Good Girl (Alphahole Roommates 2)

I stare at him, feeling dead inside right now.

This jerk thinks I’m a piece of crap.

He’s definitely a jerk. I’ve tried to explain myself, but zero benefit of the doubt has been given at all. I mean, he doesn’t know me, but if his brother recommended they hire me why wouldn’t he at least hear me out?

He leaves again, locking the door on his way out and I collapse onto the couch and bawl my eyes out. I do it for all of five minutes, because crying will get me nowhere.

So, I get back up and get to work on tidying the apartment (all but the master bedroom because I am not going in there) and charge my phone.

I head into the spare room and Shane has messed that up, too. I start cleaning it and hallelujah, find my laptop under the comforter.

I hug it and cry some more. At least this wasn’t taken. I can job hunt. I haven’t lost my stories. My life is in this thing. It’s a cheap, old, secondhand laptop, but it’s such a relief that it’s here.

***

It’s late when my phone makes a text ding. It’s past two o’clock in the morning, but I grab it in case it’s Shane. I’m sleeping on the couch in case he comes in.

Hey, this is Phil. Bonez gave me your number. Is Gramma with you?

That’s obviously a wrong number - so I pull the blanket over me and close my eyes again. I don’t fall asleep straight away. Because I don’t know what the heck tomorrow will bring.

My phone makes another noise. I look and I’ve gotten a Facebook messenger alert from Carly Carmichael. Oh wow. She changed her name already. I get a pang of happiness for her, for them.

I drop the phone in my haste to read the message, reach to the floor beside the couch and slip off and fall on my ass.

“Of course,” I grumble as I lift the phone from the floor. She’s responded to my inbox message.

Hi Jada! Of course you can stay at the condo. Austin only needs one bedroom and there’s the spare. It’s not a big deal since he’ll be busy working all the time. Just ask him but I know he’ll be cool. But we’re kind of confused - did Alice not call you to ask you to work for Austin for the next little while?”

Austin is his name. Figures. Sounds like a rich guy snob name. Yeah - Austin won’t be cool. Austin is a grouch and Austin thinks I’m a junkie, a stripper, a squatter. Well, I guess I technically am a squatter.

I send Carly a reply.

Huge congrats on your marriage. Sorry, this is gonna be long. Or I’ll try to make it as brief as possible. I was stuck and you guys didn’t answer so I used the key and stayed and my bipolar brother is off his meds and had a party. Austin came home mid-party as I was freaking out and double freaked. Rightly so. Everything was a mess but I’m cleaning up now. I’m homeless atm and freaking out. I’m so sorry, Carly, to lay this on you guys. This isn’t your problem, I don’t even work for Aiden anymore but I had the key and was stuck so was just hoping to stay a few days. I got abruptly evicted and was just stuck. Austin isn’t going to want me here after this and I totally understand. He went to a hotel and told me he’s back in 12 hours and I have to leave then. He wanted to call the cops and didn’t believe the misunderstanding. I know you’re on your honeymoon and this is the last thing you need to worry about but please don’t let him call the cops on me. I’m cleaning up everything and if anything is damaged, I’ll pay for it. As soon as I can. My purse was stolen but Austin found it in the elevator. Oh and pls can you ask Aiden to report his credit card that he gave me stolen asap? Again, I’m super sorry. Again, my apologies that I laid this on you guys while on your honeymoon. Congrats again. I can’t wait to see pictures from your big day.

My finger hovers over the send button for a second and I think about how all that must sound. Scattered. Lame. I’m tempted to go back and edit it into something less frantic and without saying sorry however many times, but instead I just hit the send function and then I start biting my nails. Asking to see pictures. Oh yeah, nice wedding pictures, they’ll make me forget all about my homeless problem.

Poor Carly, getting a message like this from me while on her honeymoon. We’ve only met a handful of times. I don’t know what I’d do if I got a message like that and was in her shoes.