The Year I Was Starving, I Worked for Carter Hayes

The year I was the hungriest, I worked for Carter Hayes. I copied his notes for a day in exchange for a single meal. Years later, after I graduated from college, Carter came looking for me. "Two million bucks. Come here and be my fiancée." 1 Back in high school, my mom cut me off. She refused to give me a single cent. She said if I was so stubborn about staying in school instead of dropping out to work, then I shouldn't be afraid of starving. But I went to school anyway, clutching the twenty-dollar bill I'd secretly saved up. Twenty dollars lasted me half a month of extreme penny-pinching. When the money ran out, I drank water from the bathroom sink. It was late autumn and freezing; the cold water sloshing in my empty stomach felt like solid ice. I could hear the water sloshing around every time I walked. I starved for three days straight like that. At fourteen years old, starving for three days makes you want to bite the next person you see. I was so hungry I seriously considered chewing on the grass outside the school. Just as I was about to pass out, Carter Hayes sat down next to me with his lunch. I stared at him. He turned his head and met my gaze. I didn't move; I just stared dead at his food. Carter got thoroughly creeped out and quietly asked if I wanted to share his lunch. My eyes instantly lit up. "Can I?" He let out a breath of relief and nodded. "Yeah, eat. My mom packed way too much anyway..." Later, Carter told me that the look in my eyes didn't say I want to eat your food; it said I want to eat YOU. He felt like giving me his lunch was the only way to save his own life. For a long time, I worked for Carter. In class, I copied his notes; between classes, I wiped his desk. The compensation wasn't much: a meal or two. He started bringing an extra portion for me every day. I'd split it into breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but it still wasn't enough to fill me up. So Carter would slip me whatever snacks he brought. "Here's some beef jerky my mom brought back from a road trip. It's probably still good." I took it and chewed. Too tough. Kept chewing. "Here's some fruitcake from last Christmas." I took it. Crunch, crunch, chew. "Here are some fruit-flavored antacid Tums my mom bought." I hesitated for a second, then swiftly ripped the package open and popped them in. Chew, chew, chew... Carter would sneak me these things during class, and I'd secretly eat them. Once the bell rang, he stared at me, eyes wide. "You ate two whole rolls of Tums?!" "Yeah..." He looked utterly defeated. "Sadie, I'm not going to accidentally kill you by feeding you this crap, am I?" I didn't know if he would kill me, but I knew I was already starving to death. 2 For a long time, I survived on the food Carter brought. Until Fall Break. Initially, I wanted to go home. But the moment I got there, my mom grabbed me by the collar and dragged me out the door. She wouldn't let me in. She said that for every day I stayed in school, she wouldn't recognize me as her daughter. Other girls my age were already working full-time in out-of-state factories, but I was too delicate for that. Since I thought I was so capable and refused to listen, I shouldn't rely on the family. Better yet, I shouldn't come home at all. I sniffled, standing awkwardly on the porch clutching my backpack. The smell of roast chicken drifted from inside the open door. My mom brought the chicken out, and my younger siblings scrambled for it. My little sister Lily grabbed a piece and glanced at me, but my mom slapped her hand. "Eat your food! Don't look at her!" Lily froze, sitting obediently. I lowered my head. The dim light from the house stretched my shadow, making it look as defeated as I felt. Eventually, my mom slammed the door shut. The light vanished. I hugged my backpack and walked away. That night, I slept at the Greyhound bus station. The next morning, I woke up and saw Carter. He was supposed to go on a trip with his parents. When he looked up near the ticketing gate and saw me, he jumped. "What are you doing here?" "My mom won't let me stay at the house. It's warm inside the bus station." "Holy shit. Is she your biological mom?" "Yeah." "..." Carter didn't get on his bus that day. I don't know what he told his parents, but he saw them off and stayed behind. He turned around, looked at me, and sighed. "Come on. Let's go to my place." He walked ahead, and I hurried to put on my backpack to follow him. Carter was two years older than me, tall with long legs. For every step he took, I had to take three. After a few steps, he turned back and snatched my heavy backpack. I looked up at him, and when he met my gaze, he laughed. "Sadie Harper, I'm just an unlucky bastard. How did I end up running into you? My parents were supposed to take me to the beach! And now here I am, carrying your backpack." "I'm sorry." "Whatever, forget it. Are you hungry?" "Starving..." "Alright then. While your boy's still got some cash, let's go get some real food." 3 I stayed at Carter's house for seven days. His house was nothing like mine. I had three siblings; the older ones cried, the younger ones threw tantrums. All four of us crammed into one room, always a chaotic mess. He was an only child. His entire house was spotless, organized, and beautiful. The neighborhood was landscaped, the building had an elevator, they had a guest room, the balcony was full of plants. The only downside was the lack of food. I woke up starving in the middle of the night but couldn't find a single bite to eat—not even a roll of Tums. Eventually, my eyes locked onto a small, decorative potted orange tree on the balcony. I stared at the oranges for half an hour until Carter walked past the balcony, saw me, and let out a shriek. "!!! Holy shit, it's a ghost!" I froze and looked back at him. That's when he realized it was me. "Dude, Sadie, what are you doing squatting on the balcony? Oh... the oranges... if you want to eat them, just pick them!" Carter was so scared he actually shed a tear. I cried too, hugging my oranges, deeply moved. These oranges were delicious! So sweet. The next day, Carter took me out to buy groceries and snacks, warning me repeatedly, "Sadie, you are forbidden from squatting on the dark balcony in the middle of the night with your hair down looking like a creepy ghost girl." I nodded vigorously, looking at him with immense gratitude. He paused when he met my eyes, and after a long moment, let out a laugh. "Come on. Let's go home." When we got back, I cooked. After cooking, I did my homework. After finishing my homework, I tutored Carter. He didn't really care, casually flipping through his notebook, only half-listening. Later, he suddenly remembered something, holding my student ID. "Sadie, you're in high school, why are you only 14?" I thought about it before explaining seriously. "I skipped grades in elementary school. I didn't go to preschool, just started first grade at six, and then skipped straight to third grade. That's why I'm two years younger than everyone else." "Tsk, what was the rush?" "My parents always said I'd have to start working full-time when I turned 16. When I was little, I figured if I could test into college before turning 16, I wouldn't have to go work in a factory. But high school requires tuition fees, so my parents still wanted me to drop out. They said labor laws are looser out of state, and if I went there, I could start earning money at 14." "..." Carter was silent for a long time. Eventually, he was so mad he laughed. "Fourteen... your parents are real pieces of work." I had originally planned to find a part-time job during Fall Break, but since I was under 16, no one would hire me. I finally found a gig taping up promotional flyers on telephone poles for 80 bucks a day. Carter had nothing better to do, so he found a gig too: getting paid to tear down illegally taped promotional flyers. I worked for half a day, got caught by Carter, and received a lengthy lecture from him. At the end of the shift, I made 80 dollars, and Carter made 120. I looked at my 80, then at his 120. He smirked and shoved the 120 into his pocket. I gripped my 80 bucks, hesitating for a moment before handing it to him. "Carter, let me buy you dinner." He was stunned. After a long pause, he took the cash. We went to a greasy spoon diner near his neighborhood. Two bowls of chili, an order of fries, and some sliders—it cost 40 dollars. I don't remember the rest, but I remember leaving completely stuffed that day. 4 Between the holiday and the weekend, I worked six days total. Minus the dinner, I had 440 dollars. The first day back to school was the happiest day of my life because my financial aid check finally cleared. I scraped together two thousand dollars, counting the cash over and over again. Then I went to borrow Carter's phone. He asked what I needed it for. "I borrowed money from the older girl next door to pay for my high school fees. I need to pay her back." He looked confused. "How much do you owe?" "Fifteen hundred." After paying her back, I had five hundred left. That was enough to survive for a month, and I could find odd jobs on the weekends. I could finally breathe. I even bought myself a new backpack. My old one was practically shredded and tied together with knots. The new one was 20 bucks online—big and roomy. Carter sighed when he saw me that day. As my desk-mate, he continued to bring me food. He claimed his mom always cooked too much, so bringing a little extra was no big deal. Carter was a good person, and his mom was a wonderful person too. Because after that break, every portion of food Carter brought me had a perfectly fried egg on top. The kind sprinkled with freshly chopped scallions. One weekend, Carter asked, "Are you going home this week?" I shook my head. "My mom won't let me." "Perfect. Pack your stuff this afternoon, you're coming to my place." "..." Our prep school had a brutal schedule: classes from 7 AM to 8 PM, six days a week. Weekends didn't officially start until Saturday evening. At 5 PM, I packed my bag and left with him. When I got there, I found out his older cousin was getting married, and they were prepping the house the night before the wedding. I helped Carter out all evening, ate the huge family-style dinner, and slept in the same room as his younger cousin. I woke up in the middle of the night and found Carter sitting in the living room playing video games. I walked over. He saw me, turned off his phone, and asked, "What's up?" "Why aren't you sleeping?" "Can't sleep..." "Why?" He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "My mom's been trying to send me to a boarding school overseas. She says with my grades, I won't amount to anything staying here." He lowered his head and stared at his phone. I knew better than to press him, but when I went back to my room, I stared at the ceiling and couldn't help but think: If Carter leaves, who will I find to eat with when I'm starving? The next morning started early with the wedding prep. I rode in the same car as his younger cousin. It was a beautiful, elegant wedding. The bride looked stunning in her white gown. I stared in awe until the bride's mother handed me a tip envelope with a warm smile. In that moment, I understood why Carter wanted me to come. The girls helping the bridal party got a 200-dollar tip and plenty of amazing food. Carter was one of the groomsmen—tall, long-legged, sharp in a tailored suit, every hair perfectly in place. I chewed on some candy, watching him standing at the altar. Later, he stepped down and waved at me. I ran over, and he shoved a handful of expensive chocolates into my hands. "Come on, grab your backpack, I'll take you to the back to grab some more snacks..." He trailed off, looking at me and grinning. "Who did your hair and makeup? That little puffy dress, the double buns... you look like a cosplay of Princess Peach." "Who is Princess Peach?" "A video game character. Gotta admit, it's a good look." I didn't understand, so I just opened a chocolate and chewed. Chew, chew, chew. 5 Carter had phases where he studied hard, but he always gave up eventually. He was just too lazy. I kept copying his notes for him. I took my own notes during class, and copied them for him during breaks. Whenever I had a spare moment, I'd gnaw on a plain bagel and read my textbooks. I had several bagels stuffed in my desk. I'd eat whenever I got hungry. In high school, I wasn't the only one starving; teenagers are always hungry. We had breakfast at 7 AM, and lunch wasn't until noon. Growing kids get hungry around 10 AM. The cafeteria didn't make enough bagels. Sometimes when I pulled one out, Carter would ask for a piece. Then the guy in front of me wanted a piece. Then the girl behind me. Eventually, it became a routine. I'd tear off a piece, pass the rest forward, and it would circle the classroom. By the time it got back to me, it had magically transformed into a few bags of chips or half a pack of cookies. High school was a blur of endless assignments, test prep, and workbooks that never seemed to end. Time flew. Shortly after New Year's, my first semester of freshman year ended. Even though Christmas break was approaching, I still couldn't go home. I didn't want to fight with my mom, but I still desperately wanted an education. I was young but stubborn; I genuinely believed that going to school meant my life wouldn't be limited to factory work. I didn't go home for the holidays. Instead, I found a warehouse packing job that desperately needed seasonal workers. Twelve-hour shifts, a hundred bucks a day. I worked for 20 days and made two grand. On Christmas Eve, the warehouse closed. Carter came to pick me up on his electric scooter. The little scooter wound its way across half the city. The river on the outskirts was frozen solid. People were ice skating and setting off fireworks. The daytime fireworks weren't as bright, but they were still beautiful. We hung out for hours until the sky grew dark and all the shops closed. Carter took me to his family's main estate for Christmas Eve. His extended family was massive—seventy or eighty people all celebrating together. The holiday dinner spanned six massive tables. I blended into the crowd; no one bothered me, and no one really noticed me. Later, when it was time for gifts, all the kids gathered around. Carter pulled me along to join them. The adults handed out Christmas cards stuffed with cash, and they gave me one too. In the dim lighting of the courtyard, someone hesitated when looking at me but handed over an envelope anyway. Later, I overheard someone asking, "I don't recognize that girl. Whose kid is she?" "Oh! Carter brought her. Probably a cousin from his mom's side!" I was no one's cousin. My face flushed bright red. I clutched the stack of cash, ran over to Carter, and tried to shove it into his hands. He had been trying to figure out how to light a roman candle and jumped when I grabbed him. "Sadie, why are you giving me money?" "This is your family's Christmas money. I can't take it." Carter shoved the cash right back into my coat pocket. "If they gave it to you, keep it. Now back up, I'm lighting this thing." First came the loud pops of firecrackers, followed by a brilliant spray of colorful fireworks. All the kids gathered around to watch. Carter grabbed the collar of my jacket and pulled me back a step. "Sadie, make a wish. It's the start of a new year." "I want to be ranked number one in the school." "Idiot, you can't say the wish out loud." "Oh, really? Let me make a new one." For the new year, I want... I want to be as happy as I was last year... and I want Carter to stay.

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