Chapter One
Kelly
It’s official. I’m on my own. Like a baby bird shoved out of a nest except I threw myself out and I’m not soaring through the sky on a glorious rush of freedom. No, I’m the pitiful bird you see flopping on the ground like a disembodied testicle.
But I am free.
A little too free today since I was just fired from a job I barely had for three weeks. The small hope that none of my roommates would be home dies when I park between Remee’s car and Zara’s car. Serena must be at work.
Hot air assaults me as I step out. The humidity and heat of southern Indiana summers always feel like an attack. No matter how much you understand that it’s hot out, that first blast of it when you leave the comfort of air conditioning is still a shock.
The neighborhood is unusually quiet because of the sticky weather, but Gavin, the man who lives a few doors down from me, smiles and waves as I make my way to my front door. Fumbling for my keys, I wave back, forcing a grin.
I’ve only lived here a little over a month. In the beginning, I was apprehensive. I mean the street sign that bears the name Violet Circle has an n scribbled in between the e and t with marker, and everyone calls the place Violent Circle. My brother, Trey, who lived here before me, assured me the neighborhood can be a little strange and over the top, but it’s not dangerous. It’s not the way I’m used to living, that’s for sure. Moving from my upper-class parents’ home to an apartment in a government housing complex has been a culture shock to say the least.
Zara looks up at me from her place on the couch when I enter. “Hey, I thought you had to work.”
“Um…yeah, change of plans.”
“Are you sick?” Remee asks, pulling her attention away from the textbook propped on her lap.
“No.” Slumping into the recliner, I mumble, “Fired.”
Zara leans forward, regarding me. “What happened?”
Embarrassment heats my face. “I burned a tray of bread.”
“They fired you for that? That’s ridiculous!”
Sighing, I shake my head. “I burned a cake yesterday, and I may have accidentally caused a grease fire last week.”
A snort of laughter leaps from Remee, and she covers her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing that you got fired. But you’re the worst cook. A bakery probably wasn’t the wisest choice.”
Zara bites back a grin, and I know they’re both remembering the charred mess I made attempting a simple pot of chili. Or the accompanying cornbread which could’ve doubled as a hockey puck.
When I look from one of them to the other, a giggle escapes me, and I feel some of the weight of my terrible day lift as they burst into laughter along with me. I haven’t known them long, nor Serena either, but I like them.
When I ran an ad for roommates, I didn’t expect three girls who were already friends would move in, but they had just lost the lease on their last place since the landlord decided to sell. It’s a little intimidating to be the new person, but they’ve never made me feel like an outsider.
“The Superstore bakery was the first place I saw that was hiring.”
Remee closes her book. “You need to look for something more suited to you. Something you’re good at.”
“I’m not good at anything.” That’s not entirely true. I’m excellent at faking a smile, at small talk and keeping up appearances. It was what mattered most to my mother. I’m well aware that kind of pressure has led to some of my anxiety issues.
“Yes, you are. You just haven’t figured out what yet.” Zara swipes an errant curl out of her eyes and glances at the clock. “I have to get moving. Today is story time followed by the Lego club. We’re holding a job fair on Friday. A lot of nearby businesses will be there to recruit. You should come.”
Zara works at the town library, running the children’s programs, which is perfect for her since she’s majoring in Library Science.
“I’ll be there.”
“It starts at nine o’clock,” she tells me, then heads off to work.
Remee pulls her book back into her lap. “I can help you create a resume tonight.”
“It would have one line. Worked three weeks at a bakery and tried to set it on fire,” I groan.
“There are ways to spruce it up. You just have to know how to bullshit.” She grins at me. “Unless you want to go work at Glitties with Serena.”
“Hard pass,” I laugh. “I’d love some help with a resume. Thanks.”
Hopefully, I’ll be able to find another job before Trey finds out I was fired. My brother is a good guy and he inspired me to take this leap away from my old life by doing it himself first. He worked his way through school while living in this apartment with his friends and he now has a great life with his own family. He did it on his own, and I want to show him that I can too. I also need to prove to myself that I can be successful without my parents’ money, or a man supporting me.
I’m terrified, but for the first time in my nineteen years, I’m also free.
One thing I did agree to let Trey help me with was tuition because otherwise, it would’ve meant taking out student loans. I may not know much about living without money at my fingertips, but I know half the kids my age are in over their heads with those high interest loans. No full time job I’m qualified for would pay enough to make tuition plus rent and food. When I argued with him about taking his money, we came to an agreement that I could pay him back once I graduate. A student loan with no interest or strict payment schedule. I couldn’t say no to that.
“How are you doing homework when classes don’t start until tomorrow?” I ask Remee.
“Just reading ahead. I finished my sociology text yesterday. It was much more interesting than this history one,” she says, turning her focus back to the page.
My stare must register on her skin because she peeks back up at me, one eyebrow cocked.
“Have you ever gotten a grade that wasn’t an A?”
“Yes, once, and I don’t plan to repeat the experience.” Looking back at her book, she grumbles, “It was a stupid gym class that shouldn’t have counted anyway. So I can’t climb a rope. How many ropes does the average person get asked to climb in a lifetime? Like what are the chances I’m going to be sitting in front of a board presenting my dissertation and one of them will go, ‘Oh, first climb this rope?’ It’s ridiculous.”
I’ve clearly touched a nerve. “I’m sure graduating high school without a 4.0 GPA isn’t going to cost you in the long run.” My attempt to reassure her seems to backfire.
“I was valedictorian of my high school. I was talking about sixth grade.” A loose tendril of hair gets shoved back behind her ear as she mumbles under her breath. “Stupid Mr. Miller.”
Okay then.
Leaving her to her studying, I wander into my room where my stack of textbooks wait on my desk, still in their shrink wrap. It probably would be a good idea to at least glance through them and see what I’ve gotten myself into.
My first day of college has gone smoothly so far, much to my relief. I was a ball of nerves walking into my morning class, though I’ve never struggled with English, and judging by the syllabus, I shouldn’t have a problem.