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“We’re going to have to shut down for a little while for repairs.”
It was the last straw for me, mentally. I thanked Nick for letting me know and hung up. I cried. Fully and heavily, I let the tears fall from my face because I knew what came next. I didn’t want to tell them what was happening, but I knew what I had to do.
I sent the e-mails first and responded with thanks to the kind messages that hoped I’d be back next semester. I hoped I would be as well. Next, I cleaned up as much as I could. I turned off the water supply to the toilet and mopped the floors. I moved the sofa to where it was out of the way, and picked my sopping books up off the floor. It made me cry again, to see hundreds of dollars of hard work ruined, but I just laid them on the counter and hoped they could be salvaged. I put all the glass in a garbage bag and wrangled the door back into its frame. Even though it was splintered, once I screwed the hinges back on, it stayed in the doorjamb with only a little bit of yanking needed to get in and out. It still wasn’t livable, but at least it was cleaner. I spoke to my landlord, who told me that a bunch of his buildings needed repairs and that I could expect my repairs within the next six months, or I could move out and get my security deposit back along with one month’s rent. I told him I’d take the money. It was enough to buy a one-way ticket, and I found the one I’d need to take within the fourteen-day window.
I tacked garbage bags over the shattered windows and spent three days rolling around in my bed, ignoring texts from Hannah. The place was far from warm, but it was at least dry. I didn’t bother unpacking my suitcase and instead drifted in and out of an uneasy sleep with the vial of my mother’s ashes in my hand. Apparently, Hurricane Erin had died down after attacking New York City, and upstate was only suffering strong winds and cold rains. I flipped through memes about the storm in an effort to make myself feel better, but it didn’t help.
On the third day, there was a banging on my door, and I tried to get up. The locks didn’t work though, and the person pushed in before I could stop them. Hannah stood there, looking as put together as usual, her eyes wide and staring around the place.
“Jesus, Ev!” she cried, pushing in and flopping down on my bed next to me.
“And hello to you too,” I said miserably.
I was sure I looked like crap. My eyes were red and puffy from crying, my hair hadn’t been washed, and I was wearing three-day-old pajamas.
“You never called, sonaturally, I was a little concerned. Apparently, I was right to be!”
I saw my apartment with fresh horror, the trash bag windows, the destroyed sofa, the missing toilet.
“Yeah, the hurricane kind of did a number on the place,” I said like it didn’t matter.
“So, when will repairs start? You can always spend a couple of days with me until they’re done!”
I forgot that Hannah lived in a world where things happened immediately.
“Um, sometime in the next six months…” I rubbed my eyes and sat up, “... But Han, my landlord offered me my security deposit and a month’s rent in exchange for just moving out.”
“Oh, so are we going apartment hunting?”
“And the cafe was wrecked, so Nick had to let me go.”
Hannah was still looking at me like she had no idea what I was saying.
“I’m leaving, Hannah. I emailed my lecturers, and I’ve deferred my courses for a semester. If I can’t figure out something by then, I guess I’ll transfer or just get a job in Portland…”
“No.” She said firmly.
“No?”
Hannah’s eyes were bright with tears, an unfamiliar sight to me. Hannah rarely cried.
“You can’t leave,” she said like it was simple.
“Hannah…”
“No, Evelyn Stearns, you aren’t leaving! Aside from the fact that you’re my best friend, you have worked too damn hard to get away from that hellhole youstillcan’t talk about!”
“I’ve already booked my ticket. I was going to come to see you tomorrow before I left.”
“I can give you the money to get a new place!” she cried desperately.
“I can’t take that, and you know it.”
“I know,” she muttered miserably, “But I don’t want you to leave!”
I hugged my friend, and let her cry on my shoulder like she’d done for me so many times. I felt the pain she was talking about.
“I don’t want to leave, either,” I said, “It breaks my heart.”
