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“I’m not a bum. I literally just got fired. And it wasn’t even my fault. It was this hot Wall Street guy, and he—”
“Hot?” Polly giggled. “Potential hookup?”
“He just got me fired. What do you think?”
“I think you need to get laid,” Chelsea said. “Get you some dick, dick, dick.”
“I cannot with you two.” I pulled up outside my house, turned off the ignition, and listened to the sputtering of the engine with dread. “I think you both need to worry about your own love lives rather than focus on mine all the time.”
“I’m just saying,” Polly said with an exasperated voice. “You’re the most stressed out of all of us. I think one night with a man that knows how to throw you around the bed…”
“And give it to you good,” Chelsea added.
“Well, that’s all you need,” Polly finished, and I rolled my eyes.
“I’m home now. I will call you back later. Bye, girls.” I hung up before they could say anything else. I loved my sisters, but sometimes they were too much. I hurried inside the house and made my way to my room. I could see a piece of paper hanging on the door, and I frowned. What now? My jaw dropped when I saw that it was another notice to vacate. So it didn’t even matter if I had rent or not. The house was being sold, and I had to leave. My heart thudded as I made my way into my room.
Could this day get any worse?
ChapterThree
Checking Account Balance: $220 (pizza delivery)
Savings Account Balance: $10
Boyfriend Count: 0 and don’t care.
“Your father is driving me absolutely bonkers,” my mother exclaimed over the phone in the dramatic way that all her daughters had inherited.
“Mom, can’t you just speak to Dad?” I asked as I flicked through the newspaper, not paying attention to what she was saying. My parents were always on the verge of getting a divorce. I was over it now.
“I’ve had enough of how he always values his own work over mine. I feel that—”
“Mom, really? Do we have to do this now?”
“What? Do you have something better to do right now, Harriet?”
“Yeah, Mom. I kind of do. I’m looking for a place to live, and I’m looking for a new job because I got fired because that—” I paused. I was going to say “jackass,” but my mother did not like me using what she considered bad language. “I got fired, remember?”
“Well, it’s not like you wanted to work at Charlotte’s coffee shop forever, did you, darling?”
“No, I didn’t want to work there forever, but I did want to have another job before I left, or at least millions of dollars in savings.”
“Well, how much savings do you have?” she asked in her distracted way.
“I have ten billion dollars, Mom.”
“Well, see? That’s not so bad, dearie.”
“Mom, you’re not even listening to me.”
“Sorry. What, honey?”
“Mom, you were talking about Dad and I was listening to you,” I lied slightly. I had been flicking through the newspaper looking for a job, but I faked it much better than my mom. “And now you are not listening to me. What are you doing? Are you painting?”
“I was just touching up a watercolor. I noticed that I didn’t get the shadow on the table quite right and—”
“Mom.”
