“No,” Holly said. “You’re still on my shit list.”
“I’m a paying customer.”
“Go away.”
I wasn’t sure if Tess was going to forgive me. She may not. I had treated her pretty poorly after all. But at least she would have somewhere to live that wasn’t a soggy apartment where the door didn’t shut properly. And the girls could see her.
It would be torture though to be that close to her and not be able to hold her.
But what else could I do?
64
Tess
Maeve’s phone alarm went off too early the next morning. The whole apartment smelled like cake batter, and since the gas was off, that meant the hot water was off, and last night I had been faced with the option of not showering or showering in cold water, and I chose to sleep in my own filth and pray the water was back on in the morning.
Maeve rolled off the bottom bunk and stumbled over the couch to the floor then turned on the water at the kitchen sink.
“Hot water’s still off,” she said. “I’m calling in sick. I can’t work under these conditions.”
“I want pizza.” I groaned. “And a new life.”
“Rent is due in a few days by the way.”
“We could just cancel our lease,” I mumbled as she crawled back into bed. “We could go pretend to be supermodels and sneak into a hotel and live there.”
“Neither of us looks like a supermodel,” Maeve reminded me. “Also, you have cake batter shellacked in your hair.”
“How do you know?” I murmured.
“Because I saw it plastered to the side of the bunk bed.”
I sat up then yelped as the back of my head was yanked.
“Oof!” I let my head fall back on the pillow. “I guess this is my life now.”
“It can’t be,” Maeve said. “We got a confirmation for interviews from the mystery firm. They want to meet tomorrow. We need to pick up your clothes.”
“Just go without me. Leave me! Save yourself,” I said dramatically.
“We’re in this together! No fellow baker left behind!” She poked the underside of the bunk bed. “Call Beck and demand that he allow you to retrieve your clothes.”
The thought made my stomach churn or maybe it was all the uncooked cake batter I had eaten last night.
“I just need to work up to it,” I said, staring at the sagging ceiling. It looked like there was a big water bubble under the paint. At least if it popped, I would be free of the cake batter chains.
Workingup to it included ordering pizza and sitting around in our pajamas, watchingGilmore Girlsreruns.
“Ready to go get your clothes?” Maeve asked after we had finished two pizzas and half of season seven.
“Maybe after a nap.” I yawned.
After food-related nightmares of being chased by giant doughnuts, it was the then subsequent craving for doughnuts that finally coaxed me out of bed.
“Yay! We’re doing it!” Maeve said as I crawled out of bed.
“I’m just going out for doughnuts,” I warned.
