“I know. But she doesn’t want my help. That’s why you have to talk to her.”
Without saying anything else, Tessa grabbed her handbag and flew out of the house.
Sindy threw herself down on her makeshift bed and sobbed into her pillow. She’d never been so humiliated in her life. This was an all-time low for her. Of all people, Lucas Blade had to find out she was homeless, living in a fucking self-storage unit. What had become of her? How had this happened? She had such big plans for her future. She thought by moving to New York she’d have opportunities that she didn’t have in the impoverished section of Baltimore. But all she had was a meaningless job as a waitress, which didn’t even pay the rent.
Just when she thought her big break had come by way of a promising band, so close she could reach out and touch it, the whole thing blew up in her face. She hated feeling sorry for herself and refused to let toxic thoughts pull her back down into the gutter. Shoulders back, she resurrected the brick wall around her heart, reinstalling all of her defenses, and stood tall. Frustrated that everything went to shit just as they were looking up, her self-pity turned to anger. She paced the small, cluttered space and stubbed her toe on one of the end tables that were jammed against the wall. “Fuck!” She got so mad she kicked it, stumbled and fell onto the blowup mattress. It was so comical, like a slap-stick skit on a B-rated comedy, that she laughed. But her laughter quickly morphed into a series of harsh sobs. She hated herself for crying, but the circumstances were too much to bear. She had nothing. No one. The daily struggle to survive took its toll on her, and she wept – hard. With her tears, she let out all of the despair and hopelessness that filled every cell in her body with worry. After her pillow was soaked with a myriad of tears and her chest hurt from heaving, there didn’t seem to be anything left inside of her. She was empty.
With her vision clear and no longer blurred, she lay on the mattress and stared at the wall thinking of nothing. Eventually, she wiped her face and sat up. She’d get through this, just like she’d overcome all of the other obstacles in her life, and she’d come out stronger for it. She was the poster child for the slogan, “Whatever Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger”.
She had deadbeat parents who cared more about getting high than anything else. They didn’t even balk when she said she was leaving the state. She’d only spoken to them three times since she’d left a year ago, all at her initiative. Each time, they had never asked if she was OK or if she needed anything. They only asked if she had any money to send them. She didn’t care about them anymore. She’d claw her way to the top, once again, or at least out of this hell hole that was her life at the moment.
Her phone rang, and she felt as if all of the blood drained from her body. Fucking Lucas. What the hell was she going to do? Too embarrassed, she didn’t want to talk to him. He said he still wanted her in the band, but she didn’t believe him. Angel Garcia was never going to sign off on giving a homeless person a recording contract. She didn’t care about the contract. She’d work for free if they’d let her play in Prodigy. Her determination always pulled her from the rubble, and she felt better about her future. She’d never give up hope.
The ringing phone still cut through the room and she reached for it, fully prepared to tell Lucas to leave her alone tonight. Tomorrow they’d discuss how to move forward. But it was Tessa’s name on the display screen, and Sindy’s inner turmoil settled. Tessa was her best friend – the only real friend she’s had in a long time – and she couldn’t blow her off. “Hi,” she said meekly.
“I’m outside the front gate. Please let me in so we can talk.”
The humiliation burned Sindy’s cheeks again. “No. I don’t want you to see—”
“Sindy, you’re my friend. Did you ever hear me pass judgment on anyone? I wasn’t raised that way. Please let me—someone opened the gate. I’m coming.”
A breath left Sindy’s lungs and deflated her. “Please don’t.”
“It’s too late. I’m on my way.”
“You’re as stubborn as your brother.”
Tessa laughed softly. “Damn right. I see the door to the hallway. I’ll be there in a second.”
“Fine.” Sindy opened the roll-up door and peered into the corridor, waiting with her heart in her throat.
“Come on. Get your stuff.” Tessa waved her hand, as if they were headed out for the evening and Sindy only needed to grab her handbag and a jacket. When Sindy didn’t make a move to invite her inside, Tessa exhaled. “We can’t stay out here in the hallway.”
She was right. The commotion could cause trouble. Not many people visited their storage units late at night, and there had already been too much commotion tonight. She couldn’t risk losing her storage unit because then she’d be back to living in her car. She lowered her head and motioned for Tessa to follow her inside the unit.
Tessa looked around the tiny room, and Sindy saw compassion in her friend’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me? We’re friends. You don’t have to keep secrets from me.”
The sweetness and empathy in Tessa’s voice made all of Sindy’s defenses fall. The steel rod that supported her spine turned as weak as a wilted tulip, and she crumbled onto the mattress.
Tessa sat next to Sindy and put her arm around her. “Please don’t cry. Everyone goes through hard times.”
This, from a girl who grew up in a three-room suite in her own private wing of a multi-million-dollar mansion with a full recording studio in the basement.
“Come on.” Tessa squeezed Sindy’s shoulder. “You’re stronger than this. You’re a modern woman ready and able to handle whatever the world throws at you. Things don’t get to women like us. We persevere and rise up. We push through.” She stood and looked around the room. “You actually fixed this place up really cute.”
Sindy let out a short ironic laugh. “Please, Tessa.”
“I’m serious. I thought you’d be sandwiched in the middle of a bunch of boxes, but it just looks like a studio apartment.”
Sindy gave her friend a look as if to ask, are you kidding me?
“Have you seen a Manhattan studio apartment? You’d pay three grand a month for something this size. You set it up really cozy. You got a TV over there. A bed over here. End tables. A little work space over there with a desk and laptop. And neatly stacked boxes.” Tessa looked around again. “Where’s the rest of your furniture?”
God, the shame. It just kept coming in waves. Just when Sindy was feeling a little bit better, it crashed down on her and knocked her over the head again. “I had to sell it. I’m trying to save up enough to put down on an apartment. They’re so expensive. I—” She wasn’t going to talk money. She knew Tessa would offer to give her a loan, and she wasn’t taking one cent from her friend. “I thought the most important thing was to get the apartment. I can sleep on the air mattress for now.”
The optimism in Tessa’s eyes turned to sadness and shock in an instant. “You had to sell your bed?”
“It was a sleeper sofa. I sold it for $500. I couldn’t pass up the money. I’ve been working extra shifts at the diner and making a decent amount playing in the coffee house and on the beach.”
