= SARAH POV =

Week two of officially staying at Chris’ place. 

A week before Chris’ Promotion.

I woke up suddenly feeling hands roaming all over my body. I gasped and tried to pull away, but I was yanked back hard against a warm, lean frame.

“S-Stop” I exclaimed and tried to peel off the hands that were wrapped around my waist, but the grip was strong and firm, and as a leg flopped over my legs, a soft snore could be heard gently from behind me.

I sighed as I realized I was fighting a losing battle. 

Chris was using me as a booster…. again.

I groaned; this was so uncomfortable. She always wrapped her arms around my waist, which meant her hard muscular arms dug into my ribs, causing me to sleep uncomfortably through the night. The only saving grace was that she eventually would need to roll over and would release me, but that would be a few hours of restless sleep before then..

The best thing I could do was shift my body slightly down such that her arm was more towards my pelvis, and hoped that she grew tired of holding me sooner than later.

After a few restless hours, I finally fell asleep again at 3:30 am when Chris stretched and rolled to the other side, releasing me from the sweet but torturous embrace. 

 I am not a pillow! 

5 hours later I sat up straight in bed. It was getting annoying, being interrupted in the middle of the night, and basically made to stay up against my will until the perpetrator released me.

 It was getting so frequent that I was very close to asking that when she said, ‘Sleep with me in my bed,’ could the floor also be considered part of the bed? 

Because that is where I would rather sleep right now.

I dragged myself off the bed and stumbled into the living room, rubbing sleep from my eyes. 

Today there was a note on the kitchen counter. I swiped it off the table and glared at it.

“Do you really think you are trying hard enough? Or do you just love mooching off people you rent a room from?” 

“AARGH!” I shouted in the empty apartment. I was so tempted to tear up the note, but I knew I’d have to clean it up, so I threw it into the wastepaper basket and went for a bath.

Once I had cleaned up, I went straight to my room to change, sat down at my computer, and started sending out applications again.

The problem for me was that there weren’t many new positions opening within my area.

I had already applied for jobs that I could commute to via train or bus within a 1-hour radius. Any further and I might have to take my lousy ass to someone else’s couch to make it on time to my job.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. There was always…. 

The café…

I mean, I had a job waiting for me right there…I was just scared.

However I was broke and getting rejections left right and centre. Did I really have a choice? 

I checked my emails again… all rejections and well wishes for my future. 

I was either underqualified or other times I did not have enough experience…

Sighs

I sat up and grabbed a hair tie from my table. 

I tied my hair up in a bun and stood, walking over to the beautiful full-length mirror that the team had placed next to my computer desk.

 I wasn’t dressed amazingly; short lace summery cream-colored midi dress and black stockings, but I think with a cute brown bag and a pair of black heels, I would look decent enough for a walk-in interview… right?

I placed a hand over my heart, closed my eyes, and took in a few deep breaths. 

I had to grow up and bite the bullet.

 I was clearly a huge burden on Chris, and it was about time I stepped up and did something about it. 

So, what if it made me uncomfortable and potentially put me at risk of being sexually assaulted… the money had to be paid back, one way or the other.

I grabbed my brown leather guess bag, threw in my keys, and selected a pair of black Mary Jane pumps on my way out. 

I mean maybe a little groping could be tolerated if I landed a paycheck in two weeks right? And with these heels adding a bit of height and accentuating my calves, I was sure to get the job since I already knew the hiring manager’s type.

I lingered in the doorway for a moment, my stomach twisting  for a second, a feeling of self-loathing bubbling up, but I pushed it down as I unlocked the door; I needed a job, I needed to get paid.