“Forget it,” I say. “Tell me more about Austin. What did he do to makehimworthy of a third date?”
Dean launches into a story, and the rest of my worries fade as I pound them into the dough.
NOTICE OF EVICTION
This notice is sent to Evie Clements…
It’s notlike I’m surprised. My rent is two weeks late, and I’ve been waiting for this evil piece of paper to appear on my front door. I hoped it wouldn’t come on time, but for once in my life,I’mthe tardy one.
Nothing makes me more anxious than running late—whether to work, class, or a date. But that is nothing compared to being behind on my bills.
You know whatwasn’tso timely? When my car broke down three weeks ago. I had a decision to make: fix the thing that getsme to work or pay my rent. Maybe I made the wrong choice, but I hoped for a miracle.
Miracles don’t happen for people like me. We have to work our asses off. I fought to get where I am today, and I’m still not where I want to be.
I only have thirty days to move out.
Ripping the paper from my front door, I clutch it to my chest.
This 400-square-foot apartment is my home. I’ve lived here since my sophomore year of college. Everything, from the matching pink pastel appliances to the secondhand TV, ismine. And the stand mixer! It’s such a lovely stand mixer.
Perhaps the appliance is overpriced, but I worked hard for it. Don’t I deserve nice things? I run my finger along the metal bowl.
This is one thing I can sell, I suppose.
I leave my shoes near the door and pad through the apartment, my feet cushioned by cream-colored carpet. My fingers weave into my blonde hair, pulling at my scrunchie until my curled mane flows down my shoulders.
That’s better.The last thing I need right now is scalp tension.
I plop onto my pink couch and stare at my outdated phone, waiting for it to give me a miraculous answer. A job offer would be nice, or a wealthy friend to take care of my situation.
But it’s not like I told anyone about the eviction. Maybe one of my friends is a secret mind reader. Or perhaps I can win the lottery! Not that I’ve everplayedthe lottery.
Then, there’s my parents…
Well, they can’t do much; they’re retired. That’s the downside to being the youngest of five. They only planned to have four children, and I was the biggest surprise. That means I have no college fund, but it also means I was raised with no rules—or at least fewer than my envious siblings had.
My parents were practically grandparents by the time I was born, and now they’re traveling the world, cruise after cruise. It’s hard to get in touch with them, unless it’s the holidays.
No one is going to dig me out of this hole. I don’t have anyone wealthy enough to pay my rent, and even if I did, I wouldn’t swallow my pride to ask. A few months ago, I was telling my brothers about my new job. It was supposed to pay me better than the last, but it still isn’t enough. I’m barely scraping by, and my credit cards are maxed out.
That’s the problem—I’mthe problem. I need to swallow a little of my pride, or I’ll be stuck living in my shabby Subaru.
My heart pounds in my ears as I scroll through my contact list. It’s a long list, but it’s full of acquaintances—not friends. Not really. They’re people I know through school, my jobs, or the dance classes I took for fun. Best friends? I don’t have any. Dean is the closest I have these days, and I’ve only known him for a few months.
No one cares enough to help me. The realization is gutting, but there may be a way out.
There are exactly four people in the world who may care enough to take care of me—my siblings. Just because they want to help me doesn’t mean they can, and it doesn’t mean I want their help.
Too bad. I’m out of options.
My finger hovers over a name: Everett.
I close my eyes and hold my phone to my ear, waiting for the comfort of his familiar voice.
“Well, well, well. Look who finally found time for her older brother.” His voice is lilted and vibrant. I won’t be able to match his energy today. “What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
This may be my last time sitting in this little apartment. I dig my toes into the carpet, grounding myself. It doesn’t work. A tearrolls down my cheek, and when I finally speak, my voice shakes. “Everett. I’m in trouble.”
