And on days like this, I wondered if maybe they were right.
I was just biding my time until the vulture of New York came barreling toward me.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked Nicole, holding out my arms for a hug. We’d grown close in our months together—as close as random passengers on the struggle bus in New York could grow, which was something just shy of family.
“Jessa, you will be fine. I just have enough sense to hang up my theater hat. You, on the other hand—you have too many designs youshouldhang up. Literally. On a clothing rack in the best boutiques in Midtown. I belong in Peoria.”
“Peoria?” I spat.
“Yeah, Peoria. Illinois. I’ll pay a third of what I paid here and still be able to afford cocktails on the weekend. I’ll get a job serving tables—lord knows I’ve gotten lots of experience with that here.”
Even though I hated her for leaving me, I also understood that this was the constant churn of the Big Apple, a churn that I could soon be victim to.
“Good luck, I guess.” We hugged tightly, but briefly. When we parted, she offered me a sad smile.
“You’ll be fine,” she repeated, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear as though the motion guaranteed it. Then she rolled her things out of my life forever.
Once the door shut behind her, anxiety drilled down into my gut like an oil-seeking expedition. I pressed a hand to my forehead. This felt like a four-alarm emergency.
Jeremy called again, just as I thought maybe I’d pass out.
“Can you talk now?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.
“My roommate just moved out,” I said past dry lips.
“Ohhhh shit bricks,” Jeremy offered. “She was nice, wasn’t she?”
“Very nice,” I confirmed, “until that whole last-minute decision to move out of our apartment thing.”
“Where is she moving?”
“Peoria.”
“Peoria?”
“It’s in Illinois,” I said, as though I hadn’t just learned it thirty seconds ago.
“Well look at you, Miss Geography. What’s in that weird-soundin’ city?”
“Lower rent, I guess,” I grumbled.
“I know a place that hasreallow rent,” Jeremy said, extending his drawl in the way that told me a fatherly lesson was around the corner.
“Oh, Jeremy, don’t—”
“It’s calledOakville. You heard of it?”
I heaved the most annoyed little sister sigh I could muster. “I donotneed your sass right now.”
“Rents are so low they’refree, little sister,” he went on, oblivious to my pleas. “You’ve got a nice twin bed with your name on it at my house. Besides, Louisville ain’t too far from Oakville. It’s an easy commute, and you can get plenty of that ‘city culture’ you like so much.”
He was referring to the bed in his spare room I’d used briefly after breaking up with my ex-boyfriend Tommy. It had seemed safe until Tommy started showing up in the bushes of Jeremy’s front landscaping nightly, tapping on my window with the rim of his Busch Light and begging me to forgive him. One of the downfalls of crashing with your brother in your hometown. Not only does everyone know your name and your history, they also know which window to peep through when harassing an ex-girlfriend.
But forgiveness was not in order after I discovered Tommy’s lies and manipulation throughout the end of our relationship.
“That twin bed isn’t a refuge anymore,” I reminded him. “Way too close to Tommy for my comfort.”
“Tommy has moved on,” Jeremy said on the heels of a sigh.