I squeezed my eyes shut again, hoping to finally fall asleep and stay that way for a while, when my cell phone bounced and vibrated next to me. I grabbed it so fast my wrist slammed into the corner of the cheap-as-hell pressed-laminate nightstand hard enough to swear like a crazy beggar who hasn't had a meal in days.

"Daira?" I hadn't even bothered to see if it was her before desperately calling out her name. But it wasn't like she had hordes of friends or family calling. It was literally just her and her alone that he was willingly socializing with.

I felt comfortable and smiled so much when her face appeared on the screen as the video chat was fully connected. I didn't even care that it was pixelated as hell. I was so happy to see her and hear about all the adventures I had already had on her journey, like, we did a few days ago.

"How long are you supposed to feel like an idiot about the silly jet lag?"

I laughed at the first thing she said and felt that hole in my chest start to fill up again, however the older I got the more I felt like it would never really fill up. It would never be completely full. When I thought that one day I would have my own family, a clean-faced husband to love me, little babies that looked just like us, it gave me a look of wholeness, but it also had a detachment. Maybe I'm just a mess inside of me that doesn't have any kind of hope.

It was like I was looking at this stupid ball of dough that totally represented my life, and I had no idea how to mold it the way it was supposed to be.

“You're asking the wrong girl. I haven't been out of town, let alone been on a plane." I smiled, laughing as the screen froze and lag, Daira's face turning into an odd expression before quickly speeding up as the connection went down. on going.

"That was incredibly rhetorical."

I rolled my eyes in good humor and Daira laughed.

She's only been there twenty-four hours. I'm sure it will take a few days for your body to acclimatize. I got to see a bit of her bed and breakfast room as she sat up in bed. I wanted to order a little video tour right now, eager to live vicariously through her and with her.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I fell as soon as I got here and woke up twelve hours later with a completely dark room and an excruciating lower back cramp from not moving for hours on end.”

"Did you at least feel better?"

she snorted. "No, not at all. I felt like complete shit and was so groggy. Then I couldn't sleep until the sun started to come up, at which point I went back to sleep and woke up with just enough time to spend an hour in the public records office. Before the old lady who worked at the front desk threw me out of there.”

She was moving around a lot and he had to assume that she was getting ready for more exploring. With her six hours ahead of me, she'd probably already done so many exciting things while I was here, lying in bed and staring up at the yellow-tinged ceiling.

"So it wasn't the most productive day, but I did find out a bit, which is exciting and better than nothing."

I felt a genuine happiness and euphoria fill me. I sat up straighter on the bed and smiled. ``That's fantastic! So, exactly... what did you discover?''

I could see that she was just as exhausted as I felt and, hell, she probably looked too.

“Well, when I say that I found quite a bit, it was basically just the birth records of my grandparents and my mother. They were residents here and had no family apart from each other." He got this strange expression on his face from her, and he could practically see her turning over in her head what he had just said about her. "That's weird, right? Like just the three of them. No cousins. Neither necessities nor nephews nor brothers or anything like that.’’

I shrugged and wished I was there next to her and could have been some kind of help to make her feel better. However, I could see the deflation of her in her face from her. “I think that might be normal under the circumstances,” I said, hoping to show him some kind of silver lining that might make things seem less hopeless. “I mean, look at me. Other than my broken mother, I have no one else in the world but you." At least my words brought a small, albeit sad-looking, smile to her face.

"You'll always have me". I smiled after she spoke. “But needless to say, I didn't find out much more than that. And since tomorrow is Sunday, they won't be open. And there are so many possible matches that you could get if you had enough time to go through all the documents and files.”

I shifted on the mattress, letting my back slide down to be flush with the bed, my head pounding something ferocious from lack of sleep and the full night I'd had. I held the phone against my chest and wrinkled my nose.

"My God, what a horror, this angle makes me have three chins," I muttered and sat back down, my head pounding once more and cursing myself. I held the phone away from me, but it didn't help the chin party I was currently having. I finally said, "Fuck it," and let the phone sit on my chest. I focused on Daira again and smiled. "Before you say it, because I can see it in your face, yes I'm listening, and yes I heard everything."

She smiled widely, and the image of her on the phone shook slightly as she settled back on the bed.

The conversation continued, she still looked a bit pixelated on the screen, the resolution wasn't that good, but it was normal, the distance between them was great. He wanted to talk as much as she could while she was on the call, maybe her day would go better where she was. Maybe better than me.

“So what are you going to do for the rest of the day? It is just that...? My mind was mush, so I had to count the hours on my fingers. "Five?"

“Yes, dinner time. I guess on Saturdays, the businesses here close early, if at all. I'm pretty sure the bars are open until call time, which is like sunrise,” she joked.

I started laughing, which took away my headache, but then again, fuck it. "I wish I was there. We could have gone to the pubs. Wait, there are pubs there, aren't there? She knew that the town she was in was small and a good distance from any major part of Scotland.

"Some, which should be weird, because the town is so small, but they're more like mom-and-pop restaurants where people are going to get torn apart anyway."

“Any cute or handsome boy? It may be unexpected, but maybe you will fall in love there." Even I heard how capricious I sounded and promptly gagged my mouth, which made Daira snort in amusement.

"Hardly. The average age of the population here is about sixty. Though you probably think the B&B owner is cute. He's around our age. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a Michael Phelps-type body."

Well, it was a good way to cheer me up. Living vicariously through her and all that. "Don't you think so?" I felt my slow smile start to spread across my face. But the truth was, it was all for show. I was pretty sure there was something physically wrong with me, since my arousal switch had never been activated. Or at least I hadn't felt it.

Sure, I'd noticed plenty of attractive people, but I'd never felt any hint of desire, no need to go out, to let a man touch me, kiss me, or pleasure me in anything. And he had never mentioned that to Daira. It was this secret that I harbored, not because I was ashamed, but because I really thought there had to be something wrong with me. What twenty-three year old had never felt the slightest flicker of need and lust for a man? What woman my age had never even kissed a man?

So yeah, she was good at acting like she was interested and wanting more details, but it was all very mediocre to me.

“Maybe I should take a trip to Scotland and show my charm to the bed and breakfast guy. He'll fall for my witty sense of humor and stunning good looks"—I teased.

Daira snorted again, but then it turned into a laugh. "Yeah, it's nice and all, but…" she shifted a bit and looked at something out of the camera's field of view.

"That?"

She turned back to me and shrugged. "I don't know. It just comes off as a little weird."

I felt my eyebrows go down. "What do you mean 'weird'? Like what?"

"I don't know. I'm being stupid. He's very nice. He's not Scottish, but I'm not sure where he's from. I can't place his accent or match it to the people here." I noticed her a bit strange.

"I'd comment that he's a sexy foreigner, but if he's making your weird radar go off…"

"No, no. He's harmless. I'm pretty sure it's the different cultures, the language barrier, and the fact that he's in another country for the first time that things seem weird. I'm probably the only one that seems weird to him."

I felt the worry that had been clawing at my back begin to dissipate. She could imagine the culture shock Daira was facing right now.

"But I'm actually going to brave socializing and have dinner in one of those pubs."

I sighed with feigned jealousy. “Eat something exotic. like haggis. Is that considered exotic?

I frowned at the thought of Scottish cuisine. "I don't know, but try anyway and let me know." I laughed when Daira wrinkled her nose.

“I don't know if I'm brave enough to jump right into all this about the kind of variations on Scottish food right now. I was thinking, hoping, that I could get some fries and a cheeseburger first, yes, before trying the local food. "

“Okay, well, try it all for me. Remember, I am living vicariously through you. "

We stayed in the video chat for another five minutes, although I could have stayed there all day. When the call ended and I put my cell phone on the nightstand, I hid under the covers, closed my eyes and prayed to sleep.

Maybe in my dreams I could fly off on some amazing adventure and find out what the hell I was supposed to do with my life.

Enid

If anyone had looked at me as I walked to the tables at Foresta's, the bar where she worked as a waitress, they might have thought I was a fucking social butterfly. They would see a confident girl with a carefree attitude, maybe even assuming I liked the party, always with a smile on her face. I'm sure they'd think I'm a hardcore extrovert.

In truth, being around people exhausted me, not only mentally but also physically and emotionally. It was the worst, I hated it, I'd rather be isolated in my study and staring at the wall than having drinks with strangers. Daira understood that, because she was like me in that sense.

So being a waitress in a busy city bar was like getting skinned alive. She had been working at Foresta's for a long time and, before that, she was a waitress at another bar. Same old way in regards to my employment, especially when it came to getting manhandled and sexually harassed.

Putting on a fake smile for these drunk assholes who thought they had some sort of right to try to grope and slap me with their big meaty paws was like pulling your teeth without anesthesia.

And then there was Rikard, the owner of Foresta's. I wanted to kick him in the balls more times than I could count because of his sly look on me, his subtle manipulation, and his very clear sexual harassment that he tried to cover up as "playful banter" among his coworkers.

This was insufferable, and that idea was always on my mind: find another job that was better enough and had nothing to do with what I was doing. Although he probably would have found another job easily enough, he wasn't skilled enough to land something he wasn't already doing. And that was defending against punctures in the bars. Also, the waitressing job gave me a good schedule, the tips were awesome to help save for school, and at the end of the day, I had to think about my future and where I was headed.

So here she was, five, sometimes six days a week, waitressing from six at night to two in the morning. Yes, work like this was clearly tiring, but I had been doing it for a long time, probably habit made the shit that this work represented more bearable. And soon the daily work would begin. I could already see some ``characters'' who were on the premises.

"Hello darling".

I put on my tight-lipped, but still friendly, smirk to set the sixth beer down in front of Jake, a Foresta's regular. He was an older man with an angular face, a long, graying, not-too-manicured beard, and sported a long beer belly that hung over his pants because yes, it was almost unmistakable that he'd had excessively drunk too much in the past... and still he persisted with it in the present.

But I put up with it because even though he liked to throw sick and endearment words, he never tried to get over me or touch me, he didn't touch my butt or "adjust" my name tag, which was just above my left breast. He was just hanging around, like one of those creepy old perverts who had nothing to do with their time but gobble down beers as he watched the girls barely drinking age walk in.

"Let me know if you need anything else," I said, but I didn't wait for him to reply, I just turned and headed for my tables, not staying too long at them, especially since it was very clear the guys had too much to drink and he had little or no self-control.

I was at the bar when I heard the loud conversation of the new customers who had just arrived at the place. I didn't have to turn around to know they were young guys, teenagers, probably already drunk from partying, going from bar to bar. But when I looked over my shoulder, it was to confirm what I already knew, and then I groaned, because of course they had chosen a high ceiling at my station.

"Thank you, Alex," I murmured as the bartender placed my drink order on my tray. She had the look of riding hard and enduring the bullshit around her, as if he'd lived a hard life in the city, but still survived. He saw too much with his dark gray eyes, but he had a warm smile and a smart mouth when he disrespected any of us.

``Good luck with that cute group.´´

I gave him a pained, grateful smile, and placed my last order on the table of twenty-somethings celebrating a bachelorette party. I made my way to take the drink order from the obnoxiously rowdy group of guys. I would have to be on top of my game with this group, because I could already smell the liquor coming off of them before I even got to the table. Yeah, bar hopping for sure.

``Good night, boys. What can I start with tonight? Maybe a couple of baskets of breadsticks to soak up the alcohol churning in his bloodstream?'' I put on my trademark fake smile and looked each one of them in the eye, something I forced myself to do when I was feeling a little sluggish. little out of place with drunks. It was a silent way of showing them that he was stronger than he seemed.

They all had that glassy look in their red, bloodshot eyes, a sheen of sweat on their foreheads, and their polo shirts and button-down shirts were wrinkled and askew, as if they'd been pulling and adjusting them all night, they were enveloped in a haze of drunk.

"A round of Irish car bombs."

I looked at the one who ordered. His voice rang out and I forced myself not to wince strangely as it rang in my ears. I had a feeling he would be the one to give me the worst in this fucking order as the night wore on. I called it my drunken sixth sense. And I was usually pretty spot on when it came to these matters.

"Consider it done. Do you want anything else?"

The guy he ordered smiled in such a way that he told me he was thinking of something totally obscene and disgusting that obviously had to do with me. I curled my lip and tried not to roll my eyes. "I'll take your drinks." I turned on my heel but felt them looking at my behind, as if their eyes were fingers reaching out and stroking me. I suppressed a shudder and leaned against the counter after placing my order with Alex. I absently and unnoticed glanced at the clock on the wall, grateful that the night was winding down and passing faster than usual, with only a few more hours left to finish my shift.

"Here you go, doll."

I gave Alex a grateful smile and carried the tray to the table, set down his drinks and mumbled "Enjoy it" but just as I was turning to leave, I felt a thick palm slam into my behind with such force that it unnerved me. completely. That feeling moved up my back and wrapped around my throat. It didn't feel good at all.

I slowly turned around, the one who touched me was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at his friends, the other three were smiling and almost patting each other on the back, almost trying to say to each other "Excellent friend, good job".

“Hey, how about you hang out with us after your shift?” He leaned forward, his warm, yeasty breath wafting over me and making my stomach turn. He didn't wait for me to respond before he extended his hand. as if he was about to wrap a hand around my wrist and pull me closer.

I didn't see myself doing it, didn't even realize he'd done it until I had his wrist in my hand and squeezed as hard as I could. He wasn't strong by any means, but I felt a pang of pleasure from his grimace and the way he jerked free, but it was also clear that he didn't want to look like a fagot in front of his friends. This was going to turn into something bad for everyone, especially me.

"Hey, keep your fucking slimy hands to yourself before I go behind the bar, take the hammer that's kept there for such occasions and use it against your fingers." It was all barking and no biting, because he could never bear to do something that violent, but this little piece of jerk didn't need to know that. I also had no idea if there was a hammer back there, probably not even a knife, but the threat sounded good in my head, so I told him like that.

I looked into his eyes and made sure he could see all the pure poison and fire seeping from every single pore in my body, made sure he could feel how serious I was right now. I was at the end of my rope tonight, and him putting his hands on me had pushed me over the edge.

“Damn stupid crazy bitch,” he complained, his friends muttering similar “sweethearts,” but they left, angrily throwing cash on the table to pay for their drinks and nearly tripping out of the bar. What a damn stupid, after all they were young immature and drunk.

I felt the customers staring at me, but they'd had enough, so exhausted from this shit and feeling like I was on my last legs. I grabbed the money and headed for the bar, not looking at anyone or anything, my attention firmly planted on my feet.

"Enid, can I come to my office for a moment?"

I gritted my teeth as Rikard called out to me and I narrowed my eyes at him. He didn't bother to wait for her to answer before turning and walking to the back.

I placed my tray on top of the counter, and Alex gave me an understanding smile.

“Rita, can you watch my tables for a minute?” He asked the other waitress, and she nodded and waved before moving on to her new customer.

With a frustrated exhale and hoping to get this shit over with, I headed for Rikard's office. He was already sitting behind his cheap desk, acting like a king who was at court with me.

"He close the door please."

My fingers tightened in my palm before loosening and I did what I was sure to do, because God doesn't want me to.

For a second I stood there by the door, the little bit of space between him and me not far enough for my liking. He stared at me with his dark eyes that always seemed bloodshot, as if he'd been inhaling shots here just to deal with life.

"We need to talk about something; your attitude," he finally said, and I felt my mouth go slack. As if legitimate, my lips parted, and I felt my jaw drop at what he had just said.

I shook my head slowly, blinked a few times, and finally asked, "Ehh…excuse me?"

He leaned back in his chair, the fake leather making a sickening creak as his weight settled further.

“With clients, that's what I mean. You have an unpleasant attitude towards them. "

I opened and closed my mouth. Then I repeated the action, because I was really speechless.

"I saw how you spoke to that young man who just entered with his group of friends." She clasped her hands over her protruding belly and drummed her fingers.

Slowly my shock gave way to annoyance, then anger. I felt him bubble up, so sick and tired of this shit. My cup is running over the brim.

"Oh, you mean the stop with the four jerks who said disgusting things to me?" I crossed my arms over his chest and dared to take a step toward Rikard.

"You mean the idiot who sexually assaulted me and put his hands on my body without my consent?" I took another step forward and felt my anger contort my face. I saw Rikard's eyes light up slightly, and then he shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with this side of me. "Those customers, Rikard?" She was a woman taking control and I was finally done with the fucking shit that men threw at her on a daily basis. Yes, that was me at the time.