It was just past 10 p.m., and I was tallying the cash and receipts in the register. The first month’s rent for The Leaning Tower was due in a few days, and I was still $700 short. The Hat Tournament had helped, but it wasn’t enough.
I was rubbing my temples when a couple of students tried the front door. “Sorry, we’re closed,” Carrie called out.
I looked up at the students, back down to the register, then over to the clock. My stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten since my last break a few hours ago. Come to think of it, I scarfed down food every few hours until 2 a.m. most nights. So did most of my buddies. If students were still hungry, why were we closing?
Because Bartley had little kids at home, that’s why.
But I didn’t.
I ran around the counter and unlocked the door. “Come on in. Have a seat, and I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Carrie was already in my ear. “What are you doing?”
“Serving customers,” I whispered. “Plenty of students are still hungry at this hour.”
“And plenty of them flunk out each year.” She stared me down. “Don’t you be one of them.”
“I need this too bad to turn paying customers away. But don’t worry, I can do some course reading from here if things are quiet. You go on. I can handle this myself.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll manage.” I sent Brittney a quick text letting her know I couldn’t meet her as planned, but she was welcome to hang out with me at the pizzeria.
In the end, I didn’t finish cleaning and shutting down until after 1 a.m. Brittney never showed, choosing instead to hang out with friends at the sorority. But missing time with my girlfriend was a small price to pay if it meant keeping the pizzeria open another month. I sold an extra eight pies and a dozen slices, bringing in about $155 more toward the rent. Not all of that was profit. I probably used $50 worth of ingredients, but those costs went on my credit card, which I wouldn’t have to pay until the following month. Other than that, my only costs were a couple bucks in utilities and my own time.
Of course, all that extra income came without anyone knowing I’d be open late. If I advertised the late-night hours, I’d probably draw more people. But advertising extended hours meant committing to them. If I did that, I’d have to hire more staff, which I couldn’t afford. Or I could fill the hours myself and kill my social life.
Really, I just needed to plug away for a couple more nights to make rent. After that, I could pull back to a more mellow schedule. I threw up a quick social media post advertising extended hours and wrote THIS WEEK ONLY on the bottom. Hopefully, that would create a little buzz and some scarcity.
Two mornings later, Brittney shook me awake. “Ty, you okay?”
“Wah?” I groggily opened my eyes, shocked at how bright the sun was. Why was it so high?
“You didn’t show up to Shakespeare,” she said. “I got worried.”
“Shakespeare?” I shot up. “Wait… What time is it?”
“Eleven thirty.”
I looked down at my clothes. My shoes were still on, my khakis had some funky stain, and my Leaning Tower polo was covered in flour. “It’s Wednesday?”
“Yeah. And that paper on Hamlet was due.”
“Aw, man.”
Brittney rested her hand on my shoulder. “You didn’t finish your paper?”
“Hamlet’s the least of my worries.” I tried to smack myself awake.
“But you did it, didn’t you? You texted me last night that you’d made enough for the rent payment.”
“Yeah, Brits, I did it.”
“I’m proud of you, Ty. I know you worked a lot harder this past week than you wanted to, but you really pulled through. We should go out and celebrate.”
I sat up. “Celebrate?”
“Yeah, celebrate turning around the business.”
“Brittney, I made one rent payment. That’s all.”
“I’m not saying there won’t be other challenges. But you told me getting over this hurdle would be the hardest. Now that you’ve got a full month to save up for the next rent payment, you won’t have to keep killing yourself night after night.”
I ripped off my polo and replaced it with a clean one. “It’s not that simple, Brittney.”
“What’s not simple, Ty? You told me I had to suck it up and be on my own for just a few nights while you put in long hours to pay the rent. Didn’t you?”
Actually, I’d said I couldn’t go out with her, but she was welcome to come hang out with me at the pizzeria. She’d never even stopped by. I wisely didn’t point this out. “I know I said it would only be a few nights, but I emptied my bank account to pay the rent, and now I’ve got payroll due in a couple days.”
Brittney started pulling at her cuticles, the way she did before a big exam. “And after you make payroll, you’ll have to pay your suppliers. And before long, it will be the rent again, won’t it?”
“It might be,” I admitted. “I have to right this ship. I’ve got too much riding on it to let it fail.”
“Ty, if you’re this stressed over money, how will you afford Homecoming? You still haven’t bought the tickets, have you?”
“No. But I promised I’d take you.” I held her arms and her gaze with as much conviction as I could muster. “Look, I’ll get the money somehow.”
“It’s not just the tickets. You’ll need to rent a tux. And then there’s the hotel.”
“I know. But I’ll get the money.” Brittney was a Kappa girl through and through. This was her sorority’s biggest event of the year, and she wasn’t missing it on my account. “If I can’t pay off my credit card in full for a month or two, I’ll suck it up.”
“At 22%?”
“24%. But don’t worry about that. You’re worth it.”
“You’re sweet.” She bent over and kissed me. “Now look alive. You’ve already missed class, but unless I’m mistaken, you’ve got a pizzeria to open.”
How could I forget? I jumped into a quick shower, extra cold to wake me up.
Once things quieted down after the lunch shift, I considered my options and reached a decision. With payroll due, I couldn’t stop my late nights. And Brittney was right. After each bill was paid, there’d always be another one lurking around the corner. I needed a cash cushion, or I’d never regain control of my life. I posted on social media and waited for a response. It didn’t take long for a promising lead to roll in.
The following night, I didn’t close the pizzeria until 1:30 a.m. I wanted nothing more than to crash, but some things were best done in the middle of the night. When I got back to the apartment, all my roommates except Johnny were asleep. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked.
“I’ve got to be all in. You okay with the new roommate?” The guys had wanted to meet him before agreeing to the deal.
“Gus is quiet.” Johnny shrugged. “Hopefully he’ll loosen up once he gets to know us, but I can’t see him causing any hassles.”
“Let’s load the mattress first. Then we can pile everything else on top of it.” I had the smallest, cheapest room, but even that was now a luxury. Johnny and I carried the mattress down to his rusting but functional SUV, which already had the back seats down. It took only two more trips to load the rest of my stuff before the short drive across town.
“Is it even legal to sleep in a pizzeria?” Johnny asked.
“Don’t know. Don’t intend to ask. That’s why we’re moving at this hour. No one will hassle me if they don’t know about it.”
“Guess that’s the case with just about everything. Don’t suppose you have a shower in there?”
“Nope, but the ones at the gym work just fine.”
It was past three in the morning when we finally got everything into the tiny office at the Leaning Tower. “Thanks for your help, Johnny. Carrie will kill me, but your next five pizzas are on the house.”
“I’m going to collect on that, you know.”
“I hope you do.”
“Get some sleep, Ty.” He slapped my cheek. “You look like hell.”
I plopped onto the mattress, not bothering to change out of my clothes. Again.
I closed my eyes, expecting to drift off, but I didn’t. Sleeping in my cramped office at the pizzeria would take getting used to, but it was the right choice. I couldn’t afford rent on both the apartment and the pizzeria, and I was hardly ever there these days, except to sleep anyway.
But the real win from the move was getting back my security deposit. I’d put down an extra month’s rent when I moved in. Now, courtesy of Gus, I had that money back. Tomorrow, I’d deposit that cash in the bank and use it to make payroll.
The move also resolved my Homecoming issue, though not how I’d hoped. I’d told Brittney about my plan earlier in the day. She reminded me that guys weren’t allowed into the dorm rooms at her sorority. And she didn’t need to tell me that she wasn’t the type to spend the night in the office of a pizzeria.
Earlier in the evening, she’d sent me a text:
Ty, we need to talk.
Brittney was too nice to dump me over text, but this wasn’t a talk I was looking forward to.
