Terrible Advice From a Career Temp- Chapter One: Identify the Right Direction

“You’re not ditching me to go off with Lindo, are you?” Jackie asked in a hushed voice when she caught Piper texting him on the bus.

Piper knew the truth sounded considerably worse when spoken aloud.

“Not a chance. He’s just been hard to get ahold of because the band is touring. We really do have to sort out the details if we’re moving in together before school starts.”

Jackie scoffed. “He’s a roadie, not the President. He can answer his phone whenever he wants. Chico State is an hour away. He could see you whenever he wants.”

She leaned closer.

“He’s ghosting you.”

Piper ignored her and turned her attention to Principal Ito, who was tapping the bus microphone and clearing her throat.

“Okay, kids! We’re getting close to the hotel for our weekend of Senior Bliss at Wild Rivers Park!”

The bus erupted in cheers.

“I’ll remind everyone of the ground rules. Because the hotel and park are connected, you may walk between the two. Students are not to go anywhere alone or without informing a chaperone where they’re going. Curfew means you are in your rooms by ten at night and do not leave them before seven in the morning. There will be room checks.”

A few students groaned.

“Your trip includes three provided meals. Show your class voucher or wristband. School dress code applies both in the hotel and the park. Absolutely no smoking, drugs, or alcohol. No cohabiting in other students’ hotel rooms. Violation of these rules may result in your

being denied the opportunity to walk at graduation next Saturday.”

The groaning intensified.

“Use your best Community High manners and, most of all, have fun!”

Piper wasn’t concerned. She hadn’t planned on going to graduation anyway.

She and Lindo already had everything figured out—or at least they were supposed to. They were meeting that night after he finished work so they could finally nail down the details of her moving in with him.

Jackie might not have had faith in Piper’s boyfriend, but Piper did.

Mostly.

Lindo could be aloof, but they’d been together for two years. He always eventually came through.

Jackie had never liked him, mostly because Lindo had been a senior when Piper was a sophomore. Jackie considered him too old for her. Piper didn’t see it that way.

Technically, Piper and Lindo were both a year older than most of their classmates. Lindo had been held back. Piper had started school late after her parents divorced and her family moved across the country.

Other kids had given her attitude about her age for years, as if she’d personally engineered the school district’s enrollment calendar.

Lindo had been one of the few people who made her feel as if this terrible blight on her character—being born at an inconvenient time—was a minor detail.

Now Piper was ready to move past grade school entirely.

She couldn’t wait to move in with her college boyfriend and leave all the high-school misery behind.

The bus pulled up to the hotel, and everyone settled into their rooms. Piper and Jackie ate dinner with their classmates, then spent the evening at the park until the chaperones rounded everyone up at the entrance for a head count.

Piper and Jackie were lucky enough to have Mr. Maize, the speech teacher, supervising their group.

Lucky, in this case, meant Mr. Maize appeared to have absolutely no interest in supervising teenagers.

The prevailing theory was that he’d volunteered for the trip because he had a crush on Mrs.

Everly, the new lunch aide.

Both of them were married.

Not to each other.

Piper also thought they’d make a strange couple because both had unforgivably noticeable gaps between their front teeth. She wasn’t sure why this mattered, but it did.

Piper recognized Mrs. Everly from somewhere else: the night shift at the Circle K up the road from Piper’s low-rent apartment complex, Palm Breeze Court.

Piper suspected Mrs. Everly didn’t want the general student body knowing about her second job.

Piper’s own mother had worked plenty of demeaning jobs, and Piper remembered classmates making comments about it with the casual cruelty of people who had never needed money.

So she kept her mouth shut.

There were some things you didn’t embarrass people about.

Piper had fun with her friends that evening, but she remained eager for Lindo to arrive after the final room check.

Chelsea-Lou Vonn and Gail Penta were staying across the hall. Mr. Maize had his charges stand outside their doors while he walked past with a clipboard, checking them off with the enthusiasm of a man inventorying office furniture.

As soon as he disappeared, Chelsea-Lou asked, “You guys want to come over and watch scary movies?”

Jackie immediately accepted.

Piper declined.

Lindo would be texting any minute.

“Suit yourself,” Jackie said.

Then she turned back.

“But if he ghosts you again, don’t say I didn’t call it.”

Piper found it impossible to take a person wearing hot-pink unicorn pajamas seriously. She shrugged her off and went back inside to do her hair and makeup.

At midnight, Gail knocked.

“Rachel Snyder brought a bottle of her mom’s guava wine,” she whispered. “It’s terrible.”

This was apparently intended as an advertisement.

Piper still refused.

By two in the morning, Jackie returned to the room.

Piper pretended to be asleep.

She was too embarrassed to admit what everyone already knew.

Lindo hadn’t come.

She curled under the blankets despite the room being too hot and pulled a pillow over her head.

Jackie, to her credit, said nothing.

The next day was better.

The girls spent most of it at the park, although Piper endured several jokes about being stood up. She pretended they didn’t bother her.

Apparently, she’d missed a great night waiting for someone who never showed.

Lindo finally texted after lunch.

He wanted Piper to come to where he was staying.

She checked his location.

Twenty minutes away.

Piper told him she couldn’t. She didn’t have a car. He’d have to meet her at the hotel later.

Jackie immediately objected.

“Why doesn’t he just come here? You’re taking all the risk going to him. Kellie Greenridge’s boyfriend drove all the way from Sacramento just to see her.”

She pointed a finger at Piper.

“And Lindo cannot stay in our room. I’m not covering for you. If I can’t walk at graduation because of this, I’m telling my parents it’s your fault.”

Piper’s confidence in Lindo was beginning to crack.

But Lindo wasn’t just her boyfriend.

He represented her life after childhood.

She’d already been accepted to the same college he attended, but even with financial aid, she couldn’t afford to make it work without somewhere cheap to live. Lindo already had an apartment with roommates in Chico. He knew the school. He knew college life. He knew how everything worked.

Piper felt like she needed him.

“He’s my ticket out of here,” she told Jackie. “I have to try, or I’ve gotta drop out before I even start.”

And there was more to it than Piper wanted to explain.

Things had been going downhill for her family for years.

Her father, Cleaver, lived less than an hour from the hotel but had stopped paying court-ordered child support the moment Piper turned eighteen.

The timing couldn’t have been worse.

Her mother, Dena, had already downsized twice. First, the recession hit their area particularly hard and cost Dena her job. Then Dena developed an autoimmune disorder that made working even harder.

Now they were crammed into a one-bedroom apartment.

As if that weren’t enough, Piper’s younger sister, Sofie, had gotten pregnant by her idiot boyfriend, Benny Boy. Benny Boy’s family had kicked him out, so naturally he had joined them.

Their apartment was approaching standing-room-only occupancy.

Piper did what she could. Babysitting. Yard work. Whatever small jobs she could find.

Nothing lasted long enough to pay serious bills, much less buy a car.

She desperately needed the plan with Lindo to work.

Jackie was probably right that Piper was seeing what she wanted to see.

But Lindo still looked like her best chance.

That evening, Piper’s mind remained glued to her phone.

It was their last night at the hotel. In the morning, everyone would check out, eat breakfast, and head home.

With every vague message from Lindo, Piper’s sinking feeling grew stronger.

Maybe he really was full of it.

The emotional devastation was bad enough.

The logistical devastation was worse.

If Lindo disappeared from her future, Piper had no idea how she was going to afford college—or even get out of town.

Her career counselor had warned her about this after Piper finally passed the ACT with a minimal score.

“This area is experiencing what we call an economic downturn,” Mrs. Salt had explained. “In other words, industries are leaving. What’s your backup plan?”

“Is OnlyFans an option?”

Mrs. Salt had laughed.

Piper had been serious.

There was no Plan B.

Her father certainly wasn’t one.

Cleaver had all but disowned Piper when she was still in elementary school. During her parents’ divorce, the judge asked Piper whether she wanted to live with her mother or father.

Piper instinctively chose her mother.

Cleaver went ballistic.

He had a habit of doing that, which was precisely why Piper hadn’t chosen him.

The judge apparently noticed the irony and awarded Dena full custody of Piper and Sofie.

Cleaver responded by holding a grudge against his daughters.

Piper had never particularly liked him, even before the divorce.

He remarried quickly to a woman who avoided Piper and Sofie whenever possible. Cleaver would take the girls to the mall, buy things for himself and his stepchildren, and make Piper and Sofie watch.

At holidays, the girls received hand-me-downs wrapped as presents, mostly so Cleaver could photograph them and prove to the court what an excellent father he was.

If Piper or Sofie got hurt, he dismissed them.

If one of his stepchildren sneezed, Cleaver behaved as if a medical helicopter needed to be summoned.

The only subject that reliably interested him about his biological daughters was child support.

During visits, he complained about everything he supposedly gave his “ungrateful kids.”

Piper didn’t like him.

He resented her because he knew it.

On Piper’s eighteenth birthday, Dena said she was just glad Cleaver hadn’t done anything petty, like sending the final child-support payment in pennies.

Piper was surprised he hadn’t thought of it.

Sofie later showed her what he’d done instead.

Cleaver had posted a photograph on Facebook of himself opening a bottle of champagne while holding up his final child-support check.

The caption read:

FINALLY FREE OF ONE! ONE MORE TO GO.

“Did he even send you a birthday card?” Sofie asked.

“Nope.”

“He’s always been a jerk.”

Even Sofie hadn’t expected their father to turn resentment over his most basic parental responsibilities into a victory celebration.

After breakfast on checkout morning, Piper spotted Jackie and Rachel waiting for the elevator.

She was about to wave when she realized they couldn’t see her from where they stood.

Then she heard Rachel.

“…too bad you got stuck with such a wet blanket…”

Piper stopped.

She assumed they meant her.

She hadn’t exactly been fun this weekend. She’d spent most of it worrying about her future while Lindo breadcrumbed her with vague messages that kept alive the toxic little hope that everything wasn’t exactly what it looked like.

Piper took the stairs.

When she returned to the room, Jackie had already packed and gone to Gail’s room.

Piper gathered her things.

Outside, the class was assembling to board the buses.

She unplugged her phone from the charger.

It rang.

Lindo.

Piper sat on the bed and answered.

“Hey, babe,” he said, as if the weekend had gone perfectly.

“Sorry I missed you. This gig has been crazy.”

“Lin—I thought you were coming so we could figure everything out about me moving in next month.”

A pause.

“Sure, babe. We’re going back up that way. I can meet you at the hotel.”

Piper winced.

The buses were already boarding.

After an entire weekend of defending Lindo, she did not particularly want to risk being stranded for him.

He must have sensed her hesitation.

“It’s cool, babe. I’ll be there in a few.”

Against every functioning instinct in her body, Piper relented.

“Okay. Room 201. Text me when you get here.”

She hung up.

The clock read 7:50 a.m.

Someone knocked.

Gail.

“Mr. Maize wants you downstairs now. Jackie already checked out. Everyone’s waiting.”

Piper knew what the intelligent decision was.

Unfortunately, she had already invested two years in the stupid one.

She forced a smile.

“It’s cool. My boyfriend’s picking me up right now. My mom called the hotel. I’m already checked out.”

Gail’s forehead wrinkled.

“Are you sure? Piper, it’s a three-hour ride home. You’ll be stranded if he doesn’t come.”

Both girls knew Mr. Maize would never bother verifying Piper’s story.

“I’m nineteen. If Lindo doesn’t show, my mom will get me. Or I’ll take a Greyhound.”

Gail looked like she wanted to physically drag Piper onto the bus.

Instead, she sighed.

“I’ll tell Mr. Maize your mom already picked you up. But seriously, if Lindo doesn’t come, call me.”

“Thanks, Gail. Really.”

Gail left.

Not long afterward, Piper heard the buses pulling away.

She watched them disappear from the parking lot.

Then she curled up on the bed.

Either Lindo would arrive or housekeeping would evict her.

It was difficult to say which organization was more dependable.

Apparently, housekeeping.

Piper awoke to pounding on the door.

“Housekeeping!”

A young woman in an apron walked in before Piper could answer.

Piper sat upright.

The maid jumped.

“Oh, my God! I didn’t see you there.”

Piper looked at the clock.

12:55 p.m.

Then she checked her phone.

No calls.

No texts.

Lindo had ghosted her again.

“My mistake,” Piper said, scrambling to her feet. “I fell asleep. My dad’s waiting across the street. Sorry!”

Another lie.

At this point, Piper’s fictional support network was considerably more reliable than her real one.

She threw her duffel over her shoulder and hurried out before the hotel decided she owed them another night.

On her way through the lobby, she grabbed a free tourist map.

Her new plan was to walk to the nearest gas station and figure out what to do next.

It was not an impressive plan.

It was, however, the only one she had.

Outside, the temperature was over a hundred and ten degrees.

Within minutes, the sun felt like someone was pressing a hot pan against the back of her neck.

Piper had chosen thick blue jeans and a white flowered camisole, an outfit selected that morning by someone who had expected to spend the day sitting in a boyfriend’s air-conditioned car.

That person had been an idiot.

As Piper walked, she replayed every word of her last conversation with Lindo.

Eventually she reached the most charitable conclusion possible.

He had probably been drunk from the night before and passed out after calling her.

This did not make her feel better.

She called.

No answer.

Standing at a crosswalk, Piper left him a voicemail that would not have survived review by Community High’s code of conduct.

She was hours from home.

Her mother couldn’t come get her even if she wanted to. The household’s only car was

Dena’s ancient Geo from before she married Cleaver. It could barely survive a trip to the grocery store without requiring either jumper cables or several people willing to push.

By the time Piper reached the Stop ’N’ Go, she was too dehydrated to think.

She bought a bottle of water and a nacho-cheese burrito, then sat at a small table waiting for the burrito to cool after the cashier microwaved it to approximately the temperature of the sun.

Piper had brought eighty-one dollars on the trip.

She counted what remained.

Thirty-three dollars and forty-three cents.

She counted again.

Still thirty-three dollars and forty-three cents.

Apparently, mathematics was not going to rescue her either.

She checked Greyhound fares.

Then she checked the location of the station.

She was seventy-nine dollars short of the fare.

And fifteen miles from the terminal.

Piper lowered her forehead onto the table.

She stayed that way for a while.

Hitchhiking near the freeway occurred to her.

So did posting on Craigslist to see if anyone happened to be driving in her direction.

Both sounded like the opening five minutes of a crime documentary in which viewers later yelled at the television, Why would she do that?

She considered calling Gail.

Gail would help.

That was almost worse.

The humiliation of I told you so remained stronger than Piper’s common sense.

For now.

She slouched in the chair and let defeat settle into the pit of her stomach.

Then her phone rang.

Lindo.

Piper answered immediately.

“Jesus, Lindo! I’m stranded because of you. Pick me up at the address I’m sending you. Right now.”

He sounded offended.

“I’m not getting you if you’re going to be a bitch about it.”

Piper stared at the time.

Almost four.

He had slept through most of the day while she wandered around an unfamiliar city with thirty-three dollars to her name.

She swallowed everything she wanted to say.

“Whatever, Lindo. I’ll be nice. Just get me.”

A pause.

“Please.”

He agreed.

Piper sent him her location.

She paced the store.

The employees changed shifts.

The first cashier had been sympathetic. The second regarded Piper as if she were personally responsible for the decline of American retail.

He repeatedly asked when she was leaving.

She repeatedly explained that someone was coming.

Finally, he told her she had to buy something if she wanted to stay.

Piper bought coffee.

Then he complained that she had made a mess at the coffee bar, despite the fact that it had looked like that when she arrived.

When he tossed her a dry rag, Piper stared at it.

Under normal circumstances, she might have objected.

These were no longer normal circumstances.

Piper wiped down the coffee station.

Even the cashier seemed to realize, eventually, that she was having a profoundly bad day.

Nearly two hours later, Lindo finally arrived.

Piper saw his car through the window.

“Really, Lindo?”

He hadn’t even come inside.

She hurried outside before he could somehow fail to locate her again.

Lindo had parked beside a pump to get gas.

“Yeah, I went to the place you sent me,” he said, “but it must’ve been the wrong location.”

The excuse was as flat as his character.

Piper knew it.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get home. My mom is freaking out.”

She reached for the passenger door.

Locked.

Lindo clicked his key fob.

Before Piper could get in, he said, “I’m not going home. I’ve still got a few gigs here.

Summer’s just getting started for me.”

Piper stared at him.

“I thought we could get comfortable in your hotel room.”

There it was.

The entire mystery of Lindo’s weekend availability solved in one sentence.

“You wanted to hook up?”

He shrugged.

Piper felt something inside her finally snap into place.

“I was automatically checked out when the class left. There is no hotel room. And I wouldn’t want to do that with you anyway. Not after you stood me up all weekend.”

Apparently, Lindo had not prepared for the possibility that Piper might say no.

He stalked around the car, muttering.

Then he exploded.

“Stop being a two-faced bitch! I came all the way over here, didn’t I? You begged me to stay with you, and now you bullshit me? I don’t have to do anything for you. Fuck you! I’m out.”

He clicked the doors locked.

Then, for reasons known only to Lindo, he punched the air.

He returned the fuel nozzle to the pump, climbed into his car, and sped away.

Piper stood there with her mouth open.

She watched his taillights disappear.

Two years.

Two years, and apparently the entire relationship could be summarized as: Lindo had expected there to be a hotel room.

Her phone had three percent battery left.

Her charger was still back at the hotel.

Piper was about to start walking that direction when a black sedan pulled up beside the pump Lindo had just vacated.

A man stepped out.

He looked only a little older than Piper, with a crew cut, ropey muscles, and a dark polo bearing a Marine emblem.

He watched Lindo disappear down the road.

“Wow,” he said. “That guy just had one hell of a temper tantrum.”

Piper blinked herself back into the present.

“He really did.”

The man looked at her.

“You good?”

Piper glanced toward the hotel across the road.

“Yeah.”

It was possibly the least convincing yeah ever spoken.

He shook his head.

“No, you’re not. I just watched that guy drive off without you.”

Piper pulled her duffel back over her shoulder.

“It’s fine. Bye.”

“Suit yourself.”

She stopped.

Jackie had said the exact same thing when Piper chose Lindo over everyone who actually cared whether she made it home.

Piper turned around.

Accepting a ride from a stranger was exactly the sort of decision she had ruled out twenty minutes earlier as something only a future murder victim would do.

On the other hand, walking fifteen miles beside unfamiliar roads after dark wasn't exactly the foundation of a long and healthy life either.

She studied him.

He looked only slightly older than her.

More importantly, he had kind eyes.

Or Piper was exhausted enough to believe he did.

“My name’s Piper,” she said. “That guy was my boyfriend. Or—I guess—was my boyfriend.”

The stranger waited.

“I live in Shasta County. Are you going anywhere near the Greyhound station? If you are, could I please get a ride?”

Hearing herself say it aloud confirmed that this was a terrible idea.

The man leaned against his car and studied her for a moment.

Then he uncrossed his arms.

“My name’s Hawk. I’m coming up from San Diego. If you want, you can ride with me. I’m going to Bella Vista.”

Piper stared at him.

Of course his name was Hawk.

Apparently the universe had decided subtlety was no longer necessary.

“Okay. But no funny stuff. Seriously. I’ve had the worst day. I can help with gas.”

Hawk raised both hands.

“No worries. I’d appreciate the company.”

Piper pulled out her phone.

Two percent.

She texted her mother and attached a picture of Hawk’s license plate.

Phone’s about to die. I’ll be home later tonight. Got a ride home from another person on the trip.

Technically true.

She climbed into Hawk’s car.

She was either saving herself an enormous amount of grief or making the worst decision in an already impressively competitive day.

Either way, for the first time all weekend, Piper was moving forward.

And none of her plans involved Lindo.