Devon Hartford - Painless

* * *

SAMANTHA

A big boulder dropped down into my stomach, reminding me that my insides were more intact than I’d realized. I wasn’t a hollowed out husk.

Yet.

But my mom was working on it.

She was right. Without my parents’ signature, I wouldn’t get any loan money at all. I’d have to earn every cent of my tuition and books. I’d never be able to find jobs that paid for everything. But there was no way I was going back to D.C. As far as I was concerned, San Diego was now my home.

Maybe I could plug my parents’ PIN number into the form online and sign it myself? I knew what their number was.

“And don’t think about using our PIN to forge the electronic signature,” Mom chuckled. “We’ve already changed it.”

Wow, Mom had read my mind. I wasn’t surprised. I’d learned most of my dirty tricks from her.

My dad was leaning his elbows on his knees. He looked very tired. “Sam, this was our last resort. We’ve tried reasoning with you, but nothing has worked. We can’t in good conscience let you continue as an Art major. Come back home to American University and get your degree in Accounting. Your mother and I will make sure you don’t have to work and you can focus entirely on your studies. Maybe you’ll even find a boyfriend who is a business major like you. After you graduate, perhaps you can pursue art in your spare time. Everyone needs a hobby.”

A hobby? He was completely insane and it was making me insane. My mom was crazy too. I don’t think they’d listened to a word I’d said all evening. They were ignoring me and trying to grind me down until I agreed to go home.

My head was spinning from all their arguments. I couldn’t deal with either of them. I felt totally betrayed. My parents were treating me like an infant, like I was holding my fingers too close to the flame because I didn’t know any better. They were wrong.

I’d had enough.

“No!” I shouted and literally stomped my foot. “I’m not doing it! I’m not moving back home and I’m not changing my major! If you don’t like it, tough shit! Get out of here! Go home!” I pointed to the front doors. “I’m sure the Motel 6 has a room waiting for you. In fact, let me go pack your bags and I’ll drive you there myself.” I turned and marched toward the stairs, heading toward the guest rooms.

“YOU COME BACK HERE, YOUNG LADY!” Mom roared.

I ignored her.

Until her hand bit into my arm and she whipped me around.

Her other hand clamped on my other arm and she shook me violently with both hands as she screamed in my face, “YOU’RE MOVING BACK TO WASHINGTON D.C. WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT!!”

After she stopped throttling me, I sneered at her. “Are you through?”

Her eyes burned hot with fiery insanity and her brows twisted into a rotten knot. She shouted, “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR BACK TALKING!!”

I glared at her, my lips compressed into a thin line. “No, Mom,” I said calmly.

WHACK!!

She had slapped me across the mouth. My cheek stung.

“YOU WILL DO WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I TELL YOU, AND THAT’S FINAL!!”

I planted my palms against my mom’s chest and shoved her as hard as I could. She reeled backward, her arms pinwheeling, and stumbled into my dad. The two of them fell down on the couch in a tumbled heap.

My hands fisted at my sides. I was ready for whatever she did next. I was going to punch my mom in the face if I had to.

Her eyelids peeled back in stark horror. Her mouth was agape like I was the devil himself. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the devil in this room. She was.

I felt confidence and resolve fill me from head to toe. My heart beat strong in my chest. I was a rock, and neither of my parents were going to budge me. “I’m not doing anything you say. Mom—” I sneered when I said the word ‘Mom’ “—Linda. Whoever you are. You’re the worst parent ever. You’re a bully and you’re a jerk. Go back to D.C. where you belong. And take your loan money with you.”

I turned and calmly walked out of the living room.

SAMANTHA

Luggage banged around inside the guest room while my parents packed. After our argument, I think they’d decided to stay at the Motel 6. I imagined my mom would’ve been throwing dishes against the wall, or at me, if it had been her house and her dishes. Since she couldn’t, the only thing she could do was assault her shoes, her clothes, and her travel kit as she shoved everything into her suitcase.

I stayed in my room with my door closed because I was convinced that if I looked at my mom one more time, I was going to vomit. My face still stung and throbbed where she’d slapped me. Every thump I felt in my cheek steeled my resolve to stay in San Diego and stay with Christos.

Eventually, I heard Mom stomping down the hallway toward the stairs. She was leaving in a huff.

Fine by me.

A few seconds later, I heard my dad mumbling as he trudged down the hallway after her. My parents were flying out the next day anyway, so it really didn’t matter if they spent the night here or not. They could spend it in a gutter somewhere, for all I cared.

The front door slammed shut. Their rental Honda revved and drove off.

Good riddance.

I was just glad Christos and Spiridon hadn’t been around to watch my parents’ bad behavior.

I laid down on the bed and covered my eyes with my arm. I must’ve dozed off because the next thing I knew, Christos was waking me.

“Agápi mou?” he said softly. “What happened to your parents? Their car is gone and their room is empty.”

I slid my arm down to my chest. It weighed about a thousand pounds. I was going to need a crane to lift me off this bed, I was so depressed. Not even ten gallons of ice cream could move me now.

Christos sat down next to me gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” I said flatly.

He smiled and nodded. My heart accelerated as I took in that beautiful grin of his. It melted my world every time. All the pain my parents had stabbed into me faded to a fuzzy pressure that was someone else’s problem. At least for now. For now, I was going to bask in the blue glow of Christos’ loving gaze.

He smiled more widely. “You sure? Talking it out will make it better.”

I had resolved to keep my emotions in check, but with all the love pouring off of Christos, I didn’t see the reason to hold them in. I sat up and wrapped my arms around him and cried softly. “Christos, agápi mou, my parents are evil. They want me to quit SDU and move back to D.C.”

I felt Christos suddenly tighten.

“What did you tell them?” he asked cautiously.

“I told them they’re crazy.” I felt him relax and melt against me.

“Thank goodness. I don’t think I could deal with losing you.” There was a tenderness in his voice that pierced straight to the center of my being. “I love you, agápi mou,” he said, “I don’t want to live without you in my life. I can’t imagine waking up to an empty bed because, once you leave it, my bed will remain as empty as my heart until the day I die. Life without you would be a dull, gray, tasteless thing without meaning. I would rather die a quick death than live a vacant life without you by my side.”

Whoa. Swoon.

Yeah, my mom was totally out to lunch about Christos.

“Oh, agápi mou,” I murmured, “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

Two days later, I was back at work at the Eleanor M. Westbrook art museum.

“Samantha,” Mr. Selfridge said, “I need to go out for a little while. I have a meeting with the Provost of Adams College. I’ll be gone for about an hour. Can you handle things while I’m gone?”

“Sure,” I smiled at him from where I sat behind the counter in the lobby.

“See you shortly,” he waved as he walked out the front doors.

I really loved my job at the museum and really liked having Mr. Selfridge for a boss. I only wished the museum could give me more hours. I’d asked Mr. Selfridge about it at the beginning of my shift today, but he had apologized that the museum had no more hours to give.

Now that Spring Quarter classes had started, and my remaining loan money had been eaten up paying the first of my monthly installment payments, I needed more cash in a hurry. I’d have to find a second job once again. With any luck my job hunt wouldn’t eat up all my study time. The last thing I needed was for my GPA to drop low enough that my loans got suspended.

With my parents back in D.C., I actually felt a sense of relief, despite my heinous financial predicament. My parents were just one more hassle that I wouldn’t have to deal with. I was going to figure things out without their help.

Somehow.

No customers had come into the museum today, so I had some down time. I pulled out my laptop and started searching for jobs online. As much as I hated the idea, it was time to suck it up and look for a math tutoring job. There had been tons the last time I’d looked for a job.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long to realize that Sheri at the Financial Aid offices had been right. Jobs in general were scarce these days. The numerous math tutoring listings I’d seen a few months ago were all gone.

Great.

I sighed and closed my laptop. I’d do more job searching later. At least I had my museum job, which meant a little money coming in to offset my hemorrhaging budget crisis.

One of the glass front doors of the museum opened and Tiffany Nofun-Poophouse walked inside wearing a tight dress and platform heels. There went my good mood. Not that I had much of one to begin with, but she definitely knocked it to the bottom of a deep and dreary well, the kind of well with slippery slime on the sides you couldn’t climb back out of, the kind where they had to call the rescue crews to pull your muddied mood out.