CHAPTER FIVE

       Shirley had moved in with Conrad.

       I had only found out about it when I went to Shirley’s apartment, where her neighbors told me that she had moved just that morning.

       I found myself in front of Conrad’s door later, only to be met with Shirley opening the door.  She was wearing a blue shirt of his which almost matched the shade of her eyes, and her blond hair was up in a messy bun.

       “Wow,” I mouthed.

       If I were seated in front of a screen and watching myself going through this, I would be laughing at just how impossibly shitty my life was.

       “Lauren, I…” she trailed off, possibly out of excuses to make.

       “You don’t have to worry about the apologies, Shirley. I already wished you two good luck yesterday. That’s not why I’m here,” I assured her.

       “Who’s at the door?” I heard Conrad’s muffled voice from inside the house, followed by his footsteps as he finally made his way out to find me.

       His brows scrunched in a frown as he stared at me. “Lauren. Why are you here this early?”

       I had been shamed so much that it was supposed to be almost impossible for me to have any pride left, but a part of me just wanted to turn around and forget that I was ever here. I couldn’t possibly ask them for help like this, especially now that they lived together.

       I had one week left. I could still stay at my apartment.

       “My dad died,” I blurted.

       “Oh, Lauren. I’m so sorry,” Shirley said, her arms outstretched to give me a hug.

       “It’s fine,” I declined.

       “I’m sorry too,” Conrad said.

       “My mom…I don’t know, she got involved with some drug dealers and I don’t know where she is. I called her throughout this morning, but I couldn’t reach her. Now, out landlady has given me one week to leave. I went to Shirley’s place first, but they said you moved out. I just didn’t know it was…here.”

       “It all happened so fast. I really wanted to tell you,” she said.

       “Why? You’re an adult and…yeah.” I shrugged.

       “So, what do you want us to do now?” Conrad took us back to the point.

       “I was wondering if I could…” I paused and took a deep breath, shaking off the remainder of my pride. “I was wondering if I could stay here for a while. It’s not a permanent arrangement. In fact, I’ll be looking for an apartment soon. I just—”

       “I’m really sorry, Lauren,” Conrad interrupted, “but I can’t. Not right now.”

       “Conrad,” Shirley gasped, surprised at his words. “She has nowhere to go.”

       “For now,” he corrected her, and then he turned to me with a regretful expression on his face.

       “You know that this house belongs to my father, Lauren. It took weeks of convincing to get him to agree to Shirley moving in. The moment he finds out that I’m letting someone else stay, he won’t take it well. I don’t want to find myself in trouble with him.” He shook his head. “I really hate to be doing this, and you know I would help if I could. You have a week. You can search for an apartment and I’ll put in a good word for you with my dad. I’ll let you know what he says.”

       He had spent weeks convincing his father to let Shirley live with him. Was she planning to move into his house even when I was in a relationship with him?

       I couldn’t say a word. What was there to say, honestly? He had assured me about putting in a good word, and it would only be worse to ask for financial assistance after he had accused me of turning our relationship into a transaction last night.

       “Thanks.” I nodded, stepping back. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

       “I’m really sorry, Lauren. I wish there was more we could do,” Shirley chimed.

       I decided that if I had to hear her apology one more time, I would pull all of my hair out of my scalp and run into oncoming traffic.

       It felt as though they were both snickering at me behind my back as I turned around and started to walk away, which fueled me to walk even faster until I got out and flagged down a taxi.

       I dialled my mom’s number once again, but it went straight to voicemail.

       It was almost time for me to clock in to work, so I directed the taxi driver to Milano’s, where I worked.

       As I got in, my phone chimed with a text, but I ignored it.

       “You look like shit,” Eduardo, the owner’s son—who worked as a busboy to pass his time—commented as soon as he saw me.

       “I feel like shit,” I confirmed. “Do you think I could get four thousand dollars somewhere and just take it without consequences?”

       “Let’s see.” He leaned against the counter, stroking his chin comically. “You could rob a bank, you could sell drugs or guns and other arms.”

       At the mention of that, I grabbed my phone from my purse in an attempt to call my mother again, only to see that the text I had received earlier was from my mom.

 Mom: 34 Winston Avenue, the blue house with an old truck in front of it. You have one hour to make it here if you want to take your mother alive.

        I had wasted fifteen minutes of the time I had.

       Another text came in instantly, and it was an image of my mother tied up and crying. She was in her underwear and her face was bruised.

Mom: Tick-tock, Lauren.

       “Please cover for me, Eduardo,” I said, rushing out of the restaurant.

       I ran a little too forward that I couldn’t stop as soon as I was supposed to. I found myself in the middle of the road with a black car heading in my direction.

       That was when I knew that my luck was just about to get even worse than it already was.

       I was going to die.