Amy rubbed her arm through her shirt. This was going to be another long night, she could tell.
"Amy, could you give me hand over here?" John yelled out from the bathroom, "It's a real mess."
Amy walked over to the door and looked in. It was a real mess indeed, water lay everywhere, all over her rug and clothes, seeping into the carpet by her feet.
"I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice to say, this was really bad Amy," John handed her a bunch of wet towels. "Can you get me some more?"
Amy walked away, the cold water of the towels sopping into her shirt. She knew it was bad, but she didn't know what to do about it, the plumbing always clogged on her. Why did he have to be so mean about it?
She dropped the towels down the chute and grabbed another handful.
"How many do you need?" she enquired.
She waited, he didn't answer. Was he that mad at her? She grabbed a bunch so he wouldn't get even more angry.
"Here," she handed him some of the towels.
John grabbed the towels and wiped up under the sink, then finally the floor.
Amy watched, afraid of what was going to come.
"Okay, it's all better now," John stood and tried to wring out the water from his knees and elbows.
"Thank you," Amy looked up at him. Deep inside she hoped he wouldn't ask for more, for money or something else.
John started to walk out of the bathroom.
"You know you promised this wouldn't happen again last time," John looked at Amy sternly. "You really have to be more responsible."
Amy looked away and crossed her arms over her chest. Why did he always make her feel like this, so small. She bit her lip.
"I know, I don't know how it happened," Amy whispered, her face still turned away.
"Okay, show how are you going to pay me this time?" John walked closer to her.
Amy backed away uncomfortably, she didn't like it when he got so close to her. It used to be okay, but now it felt oddly unsettling.
Amy felt the hair on her neck rise as he moved close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek.
"You said you'd pay me next time, remember," John placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.
"Stop it," Amy swung his hand off of her shoulder, "Stop it, it's not right."
John laughed.
"Of course it's not right, that's why you like it so much, besides my bill would be $320, do you have the cash?" John held his hand out.
Amy hesitated. She hated this, she knew all he wanted was for her to say no. Yet she had to say no, she didn't have the money. She shifted her weight from foot to foot.
"I can write you a check," Amy nervously avoided eye contact.
John laughed again, this time more heartily.
"A check from you is worth as much as a used post-it note," John shook his head from side to side, "it's cash or barter sweetie."
"I'm trying to pay for college," Amy turned around, "it's hard enough to get a meal let alone have enough money for emergencies."
"That's why I'm giving you a deal," John smiled, "I'm letting you off cheap. What did I spend here four hours? All I'm asking in return is an hour with you."
Amy shivered at the thought of having to spend an hour with him again. She hated how he treated her, how she made her feel. Yet part of her yearned for him, to feel his power over her again.
"I can't," she threw her face into her hands, "I can't do it again."
"Then I'll need you to pay," John looked at her impatiently, "now."
Amy felt her knees wobbling, she was trying to stand up to him but she couldn't. She couldn't pay him and she couldn't get him away. She thought about how she could get out of the situation, but she invited it in when she asked for his help.
She fell to her knees, her body racked with sobbing.
"Please, don't make me do this," Amy sobbed out through her hands, "I'm nineteen now, I want to be allowed to make my own choices."
John paused.
"Amy, you are making your own choices," John walked up to her and put his hand on her head, gently rubbing his finger through her hair, "it's your choice here too, you can do what you want."