Sugar babe
Chapter 1: Living and dying
Warning: Mild cliffhangers
My doctors saved my life.
My doctors ruined my life.
Right now, I’m sitting at Café Jolt and drinking tea from a thermos I brought from home. Of course, I didn’t buy anything. I would never pay five bucks for a basic coffee in a paper cup. But I’m a thin, conventionally pretty white girl — woman, I guess — so everyone leaves me alone. Except for the men.
The men stare, some politely and some less so. They’re sizing me up, wondering if I’d like some company or perhaps something more intimate. Two of them look like frat boys, tourists from out of town. More memorable is an older man on the cusp of handsome. A white scar bisects one eyebrow and stops an inch or so from his scalp. He waves to me. I shake my head. I’m already taken.
I spend a lot of time in coffee shops because my mom and I share a studio apartment. We both go out a lot to give each other space. And my mom’s presence in our cramped little home is a constant reminder that she sold her house to pay for my cancer treatment.
I hate that she had to do that. And I hate even more that it wasn’t enough. We’re still drowning in debt, hiding from collection agents and playing utility roulette each month.
