[h3]Somewhere in the Bronx the night of Saturday, October 4th.[/h3]

[hr]


[hider=6:00 PM]
“I’m losin’ her.” Said her mom’s boyfriend.

	“You’re losin’ a lot more than that,” Replied his girlfriend’s daughter.

	She continued. “But no,” She spat on the concrete, not too far from his face. “You’re not. Losing her, that is. Unfortunately.”

	“Right to the heart with this one. Help me up.” He extended a hand upwards.

	“Get up yourself, you drunk piece of shit.”

	“I’m not drunk! I don’t drink!”

	“Bullshit.” Tillie flung her head to the sky. 

	“I gamble.” Jake joked. 

	“Fuck you.”

	“You’re so-” He laughs. “You’re such a buzzkill. Not that I’m drunk.”

“How many times am I gonna have to find you like this?”

Jake shrugged at her. “How [i]do[/i] you always find me?”

She didn’t know. “I can smell you.”

“I’m [i]not[/i] drunk. I’ve had a few drinks. But I’m not drunk.”

“I wouldn’t know.” 

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? Good for you. Stay in school.”

“I dropped out. You’d remember that if you weren’t drunk.”


“I was joking, Tillie.”

“It wasn’t funny, Yancy.”

“I wish I’d never told you my middle name.”

“I wish you’d never been born.”

Yancy, or Jake, as he preferred to be called, waited a beat for Tillie to insinuate that she was joking. Or at least didn’t hate him that much. It came in the form of an extended down hand to help him up. Yancy waved her off and rose to his feet by himself, earning a scornful scoff from his girlfriends daughter.

	“See?” He said. “I’m not drunk.”

	“You’re forty.” Tillie said, hurtfully.

	“I’m thirty-six.” Yancy pointed at the air. “And sober. I could legally drive. If I wanted to.”

	“Then why were you on the fucking ground?” Tillie leaned forward.

	“I owe some money to some guys. Like I said, I gamble.” Jake shrugged.

	“...What?!” Tillie lunged forward and pushed Jake against the wall, grabbing him by the shirt. Jake let it happen, of course, since he had no interest in fighting back, but he was a little alarmed by how strong Tillie was.

	“You’ve grown.” Jake said. 

	“You’ve known me for twenty God-forsaken months.” Tillie growled.

	“And yet, you’ve grown.” Jake said.

	“Answer the fucking question!” Tillie shook him.

	“What question?!” Jake grinned, furrowing his brow.


	“I asked you [i]’what,’[/i] motherfucker!” Tillie said, and then groaned, because whenever she said that curse word Yancy got a look in his eye, even when he tried to hide it to the best of his ability. 

	“I fucking hate you.” Tillie let go of him and turned away, running her hands down her face. “How much? To who?”

	“Not much. To nobody.” Jake said casually. “Listen, kid, it’ll be fine. I just- I just had a run of bad luck, that’s all. I always bounce back. You can count on me.” Jake shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at a can, sending it bouncing towards the edge of the alleyway.

	Hesitation. Jake continued, “It’s only, uh..y’know. Ever since I lost my job…”

	“Shut up.” Tillie pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

	“Yeah.” Jake shut up for once. For a bit. “Me and my big mouth, huh?” Jake said, coming up behind Tillie and nudging her with his elbow.

	“My old boss was a real scumbag.” Yancy said. “I shoulda kept my mouth shut. When he did that shitty stuff he did. To people. Well, to…to women, really. But I thought of you, and the man I wanted to be for you-”

	“Don’t put that shit on me!” Tillie turned and pointed at him. “Don’t put that on me!”


	Jake’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t trying to.” 
	“I can take care of myself. I’m the only one who can!” Tillie swept her arms wide. 

	“Tillie…” Jake trailed off, raising a soothing hand. 

	Tillie was silent, breathing heavily, looking at him expectantly.

	“...I thought you were going to interrupt me.” Jake’s limp hand slapped against his pant leg. “Seemed like you were on a roll, there.” 

	“...I fucking hate you.” Tillie turned around again and started walking away.
	
	“You wouldn’t get it. That’s such a good fall-back option for you, you don’t ever need to think of what to say.” Jake said, before punching himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand. “Look! Tillie, look.” He hurried alongside her. “I can get the money. Just give me a month!”

	Something in Tillie recoiled. “I’m not your fucking loanshark!” Tillie backed away from him, surprised and indignant.

	“Shit, you’re right. Sorry.” Jake stopped walking, and scratched his head. “Maybe you should be. You’re one scary lady.”

	“Ugh!” Tillie clenched her fists and turned onto the street. 

	“It’s [i]really[/i] not that much money. You make it in a month. These assholes, they just- they’ve ‘got no chill’, as it were.” Said Yancy.

	“Now…Now, Tillie,” a thought occurred to Jake. “You know I hate to ask this. You really know I do. But if you-...”

	Tillie stopped walking and looked at Jake. Jake wasn’t exactly the ‘father’ type. But this was the kind of look from a young girl that would rend a guy’s heart in half. It was hard to explain. But she looked so defeated and exhausted, a look that wasn’t supposed to appear on a young face like hers.

	“No. Nevermind.” Jake shook his hands, shying away. “I can handle this. I’m a provider. I can do it.”

	“Fine.” Tillie said. “How’s, I dunno, seven hundred and fifty dollars sound?”

	“N-no, Tillie, really, I mean it. I was just joking. You know me.”

	“If it’s really only the money I make in a month, then it’s no big deal. That’s not even a lot from me. I’m employed. You don’t have to pay me back.” Tillie said, her voice flat.

	It was too good to be true. Jake would jump on such a statement. But this was too much, even for him. For once, he said nothing.


	Tillie sensed his hesitation. She sighed. “I don’t want you getting beat up, Jake. Mom worries enough already.” 
	
	“Tillie…”

	She waited again. Jake let out a breath, and put his hand to his head. Once again, he had no follow-up.

	“Think of it like this. I’m not giving it to you for you. I’m giving it to you for my mom. I’m buying her a gift. You, with all your bones unbroken. I’ll write you the check when we get home.” Tillie said. She turned and started walking. 

Yancy followed behind after a while. The city was never quiet, but this was as quiet as it got. 

	“Were you telling the truth, earlier?” He asked after a while. 

	“About what?” Tillie didn’t look back.

	“That I’m not losing her.” He asked.

	“...Yeah.” She said. “I was.”
[/hider]


—

	
[hider=10:30 PM]
“Hey, Mom.” Tillie said, leaning into the side hug that her mother gave her after Tillie leaned over the side of the couch. Her mother didn’t much look away from the TV for very long, she was gripped by the news.

	“Sometimes Tillie, I worry about you when you don’t come home at the usual time. Look at this on the news. A bombing! At the college. Can you believe it? So many young people, hospitalized or worse. It’s awful.” She said.

	“Yeah.” Tillie said, looking away. “Yeah it’s uh. It’s crazy.” She stared off into space for a while. Out the window of their apartment, towards the sinking sun behind the not-so-distant but oh-so-far metropolis of New York City. In here though there was a clutter all on it’s own, with warm orange lights. Tillie could never reach the walls. Despite it all, at home, it felt like there was nothing to lean on.

	“Tillie?” Her mother asked, turning away from the TV. 

	“Good thing I never made it to college, right?” Tillie blinked back into focus. “Otherwise I woulda gotten caught up in that attack. What a waste of a life that would have been.” Her tone was harsh. 

	Jennifer Hythe stared, silent, her mouth trying to form some word. “Isn’t that…a horrible thing to say.”
	
	“I mean, it’s true, isn’t it?” Tillie shrugged. “But at least I didn’t miss out on college only to end up there and get caught up in it anyway. Now [i]that[/i] would be stupid.” She smiled. Jennifer hated when her daughter smiled, now. It was a far cry from what it used to be. Some bitter, mechanical thing. It never reached her eyes, only ever darkened them. 

	“I guess so..?” Jennifer looked away.

	“Aren’t you gonna ask where ‘Jakey’ is?” Tillie asked.

	Jennifer didn’t say anything. Tillie clenched her fists. “Yeah, well.” Tillie continued. “I told him to fuck off back to his shitty place for tonight. And by his place, I of course mean his friends place. That loser is gambling away the last of his money.” She walked into the kitchen and began cleaning glasses out by hand, with towel, sink and soap. 

	“Or should I say [i]your[/i] money.” Tillie added after another pause.

	“..My severance-...” Jennifer started. “We’re trying, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

	“Hey! You don’t have to defend yourself, Mom. I know you got let go for bullshit reasons. Oscorp moving in a different direction. You went to college, where did that get you? A worthless secretary replaced by a fucking robot. And now what are you gonna do? Some lady in her forties, pushing fifty. Certainly can’t degrade yourself to get some minimum wage job like me. Let’s be honest. If I helped you get a job at the [i]Happy fucking Lemon[/i] and we ended up working side by side, I wouldn’t blame you if you killed yourself. Hell, I’d probably beat you to it.” Tillie said, smiling again.

	Tillie pre-empted her mother’s silence. “No! No, I mean that. I really do. I’d hate for you to get the same job as me. Genuinely. That would be genuinely depressing. But when you say “we’re” trying, I disagree. ‘We’ as in you and me, sure. ‘We’ as in you and him?” Tillie laughs. She waited for a response. It was something she rarely ever had to do with Yancy. Her mother, her mother’s boyfriend- pretty much the only people in her life. One never shut up, the only one never opened her mouth. Tillie ground her teeth together. 

	“I don’t want to do this with you.” Was the only interjection her mother could offer.

	“What else is new!” Tillie’s anger grabbed her by the neck, and in the resulting struggle she ended up with a broken ceramic bowl in her hands. The shards dug into her flesh.Blood ran down into the sink. “Fuck!” Red fists quaked. 

	“Tillie!” Jennifer stood up, alarmed. 

	“I’m fine!” Tillie grumbled through clenched teeth. 

	“You’re bleeding!”

	“It’s nothing! God, damn it.” Tillie washed her hands in the sink, but the blood, of course, just kept coming. The pain was sharp at first, but rapidly dulled. She was scrubbing her hands like she could peel the wounds right off. 

	“Oh my- God! I’m calling 911. Let me- let me-” Jennifer rushed over. “Let’s-” She grabbed a towel. “Wrap this around them.”

	“I’m fine. I’m fine! See! I’m fine.” Tillie showed her hands to her mother. The water had washed all the blood off, and  there was left nothing but Tillie’s fresh hands. “So just shut up about it already.”

	“Wh-what? Let me-” Jennifer reached out to take her daughter’s hands, but she pulled them away. 

	“Let you what? You’re a secretary, not a nurse.” Tillie looked down at the bowl. The last of her blood was already washed down the drain- the bowl was some of the only evidence the wound had even happened.

	“I could have sworn…”

	“You weren’t even looking.” Tillie said. She grabbed the shards, stepped on the pedal of the plastic garbage can, and threw the debris in with a heavy thunk. “I’m going for a walk.” She stormed out of the house and into the hallway as her mother watched. 

Breathing hitching, she felt out onto the fire escapes and into the cool night air. Her fingers squeezed the hands of the other. But it was no illusion. The pain was gone. Gripping her face, she leaned against the railing and slid down into a sitting position. 

	Eyes wide, she swore, and swore again for good measure. Shutting her eyes she let herself fall onto her side, putting the heel of her hand against her forehead. 
	Tillie, as far as she knew, was the only one to walk away unscathed from what happened that day at the University. But it was one thing to walk away unscathed- another thing altogether to walk away never to be scathed again. 

	“I can’t deal with this.” Tillie said opening her eyes to look up at the stars. Or rather, the myopic view of the stars given to her through the light pollution of the Bronx and the clouds of the water itself. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t get it. I don’t get it!” She kicks out at the railing, causing it to rattle. The echo of that noise along the bricks, the barking of distant dogs and the thrumming of strange engines is the stifling response she gets in return. 

	Sleep doesn’t come to her anymore. She’s accepted that in the past month. Not in an insomniac kind of way, either. She just doesn’t get tired. At least, not physically. The only drain the anxiety of the implication of it all. And now, this… what’s wrong with her? Tillie gets out her phone, and texts her mom. ‘Friends house’ is all. It’s a lie. But really, she can’t be bothered to go back inside and talk to her again. Definitely not to apologize or make amends. The one advantage of this whole situation she’s figured out so far? She’s managed to get a part time gig as a security guard at the Mall on Bay Plaza. This money she keeps secret. All for herself. Since she’s not sure why she’s able to have it, she’s been pretending like she doesn’t have the money. At the very least, at night, when she can be by herself for hours, she finds herself able to think a bit more clearly. 

[/hider]