The Night of Seven by Nadia Siddiqui (each kindness read aloud .TXT) 📗

be hard all of the time. It was quite the process, but even just having a meal card as part of his college experience and having that pressure of having to be able to afford his next meal removed from his shoulders opened up his whole world. He didn’t have to worry about where to sleep. He had clothes and a way to wash them and did not have to wear them while they were wet. The classes were so much more interesting than what he could learn in high school, and he found that he really enjoyed learning. The temptation to drink and party simply wasn’t there for him because that is all that he ever did in high school. That is all that anybody that he knew ever did in high school. They all lived their lives on a loop. They did the same things with the same people and either ended up overdosed, in jail, or they lived off of the government. There wasn’t another option for any of them. He might have liked for them to have seen the light or the way out, but the system isn’t designed to help anybody that looks like they did, without them having something or some skill that somebody else wanted that they were able to exploit in exchange for a better future. In Stefan’s case, it was track and field. His legs were his ticket out of the ghetto and into real life.

When he graduated, he promised himself that he wouldn’t ever go back to living the way that he used to. Stefan promised himself that no matter what happened or where he ended up, he was going to give it his absolute best. Jobs turned out to be rather difficult to find, but he started on with this casino because they needed a night janitor, and he promised that even though it was just cleaning up people’s shit all day, every day that there was no reason to be upset about it. He’s so young, he can work his way up from entry-level. He knows that if he’s kind, and he keeps his head down, that he will be able to learn just about anything that he needs to know about working in a casino, and maybe somehow that might end up being useful to him. Sure, if something else comes along, that’s fine. It’s honest pay. It’s something that he can do to earn real money, and he can’t trade that. He has his own efficiency apartment, and it has a bed in there that he owns. He owns it. It’s his, and nobody else has ever slept in it. It didn’t fall off of a truck or anything. It might not be something to somebody else, but it sure means something to him.

However, about a couple of months into this job, Stefan learned a few other new skills. Given his rather quiet nature and the fact that he keeps to himself, people seem to either not realize that he’s there...or they just don’t mind. It took about a month and a half before people stopped lowering their voices whenever he walked into a room. Perhaps they just deemed him trustworthy, but since that time, whatever transition occurred, people have been saying whatever they want. Perhaps a little too much. He’s learned so many secrets that he really has no business knowing. At least he knows that he’s not the one that’s going to be telling anybody anything that they aren’t supposed to know. However. He overheard the boss on the phone not too long ago, talking about the dancer’s schedules. Normally, the boss man just likes to stare at them through a crack in the door when they are changing. Stefan just assumed he was some sort of limp-dicked pervert or something; he figured that the girls must know. They have to; it’s not like the man is subtle about the noises that he makes while watching them. He usually speaks about them so highly because he wishes that they liked him, and it was very shocking to hear him talking about the dancers like they were scum, like they were objects to be auctioned off. Though, that wasn’t the most alarming part of the conversation as it went on.

At the end of it, Stefan was sure that he needed to buy something to protect them with. Those girls were his friends, and they didn’t know what might happen...or the horrible things that the boss had planned for them. He wanted to tell them, but he didn’t have any proof. He knows how hard it is to say things without proof. The gun might protect him someday, sure, but he needs to protect his friends even more. It took some time before he got used to the weight of the gun underneath his uniform, but he can manage it well now.

Today, he’s delivering gifts from various suitors, and he is about two rows back, close to the women's showers when the screaming starts. The girls closest to him all duck behind his tall, slender frame, and he doesn’t have the heart to show them that he’s just as scared as they are. Stefan motions for the girls to be quiet, hoping that whoever is scaring the others doesn’t know that they are back here. He motions for them to slowly crawl into the bathroom and hide in the showers; it’s the furthest point away from the sounds of things...there is no way that they are going to be able to get to the door without being seen.

Then he hears Olivia pleading.

Not her.

Just last week, he had sat out front of the casino, on those cold concrete steps while she chain smoked and cried through her makeup. He had found her attempting to cover her black eye with foundation, and when she caught him looking...she dissolved. She told him all about her ex-boyfriend and the family that he belonged