The next day, Thursday

You wake up and perform your weekday morning routine. Shower, dressed, breakfast, makeup, go.

The bulk of the day flies by, a blur of lectures and classes. You're still finding it difficult to fit in and make friends at uni. You've met a few girls who you get on with ok, but you still feel like you're unable to break the ice and let your guard down. At school you were always the poor kid, and you still feel that shame even now. I wish I could just turn up one day with nice new clothes, expensive shoes, posh makeup, a designer bag. Would they accept me then? Probably not. Fuck 'em!

When your final class ends you don't have any time to hang around and socialise. You head straight to the cafe where you work. "Hi Gary" you say quickly to your boss as you quickly walk in past the tables, past the counter. He's a short, middle aged man, bald, slightly overweight, but for some reason he has the confidence of a king. He's busy taking an order at the counter so he doesn't respond. "Sorry I'm late" you add. You're not sorry. It's impossible to get here 4pm on weekdays. I've told him that, so he can suck it.

You walk straight past him into the back room where he let's you change. "You can stay an extra 10 minutes after your shift" you hear him shout after you. Christ, you whisper as you quickly pull off your clothes and put on the uniform. Black tights, black above the knee skirt, and a fitted black blouse. You wear flat black shoes. Gary has told you a few times now to wear heeled shoes, but you couldn't afford to buy any and you could barely fit the flats into you bag as it is. I'll wear them if you buy them you fat old creep, you thought as you quickly check yourself in the mirror. Ok, time to work.

You hate this job. Really hate it. When it's busy you have to rush around like crazy. Gary always in your way, always getting too close, squeezing past you or laying a hand on you. And when it's quiet you're stuck there with him talking your ears off, no escape. Listening to his stories, boasting, shit jokes. Your shift was only three or four hours, depending on demand, but it felt like an eternity every time. You need the money so bad though that you would take more shifts if you could, but Gary only needs you a few evenings a week.

Today was busy and by the end of your shift you felt exhausted. Fortunately Gary lets you off from working the extra 10 minutes, so you rush out just in time to get the bus home.

You get in and there's still no sign of your mum. You load up the washing machine, quickly clean around the flat a bit, cook a quick meal, shower and head to bed. Christ, I'm knackered. You text Matt back and forth a little before dropping off to sleep, phone still in your hand.