Free By His Rules by J. A. Rock Page A

great effort, he opened his eyes: 9:15. He had
    to be at work at ten. Just another five minutes… He slapped
    the Snooze button and closed his eyes, falling back
    asleep immediately.
    When he woke again, it was almost noon and his
    phone was ringing.
    “Where the hell are you?” Hera demanded.
    “Huh?”
    “Rim Job’s having a fit. We’re slammed. Lunch
    rush. Where are you?”
    “Shit,” Aiden said, clambering out of bed. “Sorry,
    shit. Tell her I’ll—”
    “Were you sleeping?”
    “No, I—Fuck, Hera, tell her I’ll be right there.”
    Hera’s voice softened. “Why don’t I tell her you’re
    sick?”
    “No, don’t. I’m on my way.”
    He hung up, threw on his work clothes, and hurried
    out the door. When he got to Joe’s, he expected Rima to
    chew him a new one. Instead she smiled at him a little
    sadly and asked him to meet her in her office.
    “Aiden.” Rima tapped her fingernails against her
    desk. “There have been some issues with your job
    performance lately.”
    Aiden blushed. “I know. I’ll get it together, I
    promise.”
    “You’ve been a good employee. Joe’s really
    appreciates the work you’ve put in this year. But we
    have a strict tardiness policy. Three strikes and you’re
    out. This is your strike three.”
    “What? No—Can’t this just be a warning?”
    “I warned you last week when you came in late. I
    don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but frankly
    I’m a little worried. Not just as your employer.”
    “I’m fine,” Aiden snapped. “Or I’d be fine if
    everyone would just back off.”
    “Everyone?”
    Aiden rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ve just
    been stressed out. I didn’t realize I was in danger of—
    Fuck.” He scrubbed his eyes with his fists.
    “You don’t look good,” Rima said.
    “Yeah, well, I just got fired.”
    “It’s policy, Aiden. It’s in your handbook. I wish I
    could make an exception, but I can’t.”
    “Yeah, I get it.” Aiden didn’t care that he was being
    rude. “I’ll go.”
    “You can pick up your final paycheck next
    Thursday.”
    “Thanks,” he muttered, all but stomping out of
    Rima’s office. He was glad there was no sign of Hera as
    he crossed the kitchen and left through the back door. He
    got in his car and drove to Jackson Pier. It was too cold
    for sitting out by the lake, and he’d forgotten a jacket in
    his hurry this morning. He sat there until he was numb,
    until his nose ran and his lips were chapped and his
    fingers refused to bend. His teeth chattered as he
    returned to his car. He turned the heat on full blast and
    drove back to his house.
    His stomach plunged as he remembered he was
    expected at Scott’s tonight. Some nights, he dreaded
    seeing Scott. Others, he was excited, or at least restless
    enough that the pain Scott provided was a welcome
    distraction. Right now he dreaded the idea of being in
    Scott’s house, in Scott’s bed. Of being insulted,
    humiliated, hurt.
    What was he going to do? He didn’t even have
    enough money saved to cover his upcoming rent—with
    his upcoming paycheck, he’d have just enough for this
    month. He couldn’t afford utilities, that was for sure.
    There were no jobs in this town—he’d been lucky to find
    Joe’s. And what about his grad school application fees?
    He was fucked.
    Absolutely fucked.
    Maybe it was a sign. A sign that he shouldn’t go to
    grad school, that it was time to move to a city and start
    pursuing an acting career.
    With what money?
    He gripped the steering wheel with still-numb
    fingers and choked back a sob.
    He’d call Scott and tell him he wasn’t coming over
    tonight. Scott could just deal with that.
    He dialed Scott’s number, intending to be firm and
    assertive. Scott answered, and Aiden’s voice broke on
    “Hello.”
    He ended up pouring out the whole story to Scott,
    who listened quietly, then said, “I’m sorry.”
    He sounded so sincerely sympathetic that Aiden
    was taken aback. “Thanks,”