“Wow, you’re a real wordsmith.”
“Look.” Now it’s my turn to snap. “I’m trying to get along here.”
“Why? So you don’t have to move out? Sorry, but you’re inmybedroom.”
This is so not working. “I was just trying to….” To what? What’s that expression? Oh, right. “To extend an olive branch.”
“A what?”
“To make peace.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m at peace with how things are,” she deadpans.
“Well then….” I look at the rest of the girls. Shrugging, I say, “I tried.” Then, looking back at Kara, I add, “I’m not moving out.”
“What?” she squeaks, then points to my roommates. “But they told you it was supposed to bemyroom.” She presses her thumb into her chest. “Besides, they don’t want you here.”
I look at the girls and know they aren’t going to say a word, but at least now I know why. “I can’t find a place. There’s nothing available.”
“Here.” She grabs a folded piece of paper from somewhere behind her. “I found some rentals.”
I scan the sheet and scoff. Every place on this list is double what I’m paying now, if not more. “I can’t afford these places.”
“You can with your fancy gift card.”
“No.”
“No?” she sneers.
“No.”
Turning to Patsy, Kara barks, “Aren’t you going to do something about this?”
Patsy shrugs. “What can I do? I can’t kick her out; she signed a lease.”
No I didn’t. She made that up. Jesus, this is getting ridiculous. “Can’t we just get along, Kara?” I mean, seriously.
“No!” Kara screams. Sheliterallyscreams. I’m a little afraid the neighbors will think there’s a murder in progress thanks to the volume and intensity of the sound. Piercing. That’s the best way to describe it. Or horror movie worthy. That’s another good one.
In shock at the scene before me, I step toward the door to get out of the house. I need to get away from all of this, but Kara isn’t having it. As I pass her, she grabs hold of my ponytail and yanks. Hard. So hard that I’m pulled back and off balance. I swing my arms around, doing my best to stay upright, but it doesn’t work. I fall back, hitting my head on one of the old kitchen chairs.
“Kara!” shouts Patsy. I hear the others yelling too. I just can’t make out what they’re saying. Looking up, I see everyone yelling and screaming all around me. The women are all in one giant scrum. Ha! Did you see what I did there? I used one of Cooke’s terms.
I do my best to roll onto my side and scoot back from the melee so I don’t get trampled. And that’s when I hear it. Sirens.
“Great,” snaps Robbi. “This is bullshit.”
I’m not sure who she’s upset with. Hopefully not me. When I see her glare turn to Patsy, I think I know.
Before I can figure it all out, Kat is on her knees next to me. “Quinn? Are you okay?”
I push myself up until I’m sitting. The back of my head hurts, but I’m not bleeding. At least I don’t think so. I run my palm over the back of my head, then look at it. Nope, not bleeding. But I’m definitely going to have a headache, along with a nasty bump.
* * *
“Ladies.”
I look over to where all of my roommates and Kara are sitting on the couch. The cop in front of them has both of his hands up, attempting to talk over all of the voices, while I’m on the other side of the room talking to the other policeman, Officer Golden. He’s nice. He’s checked my head several times and asked me to tell the story of the events of the morning—multiple times.
