Landlord Wars(12)

My jaw dropped, and I stared after him as he stormed away and joined the others.

Gwen maneuvered to his side and immediately looped her slim arm through his and glanced back. She shot me a cutting look before returning her attention to Max. Meanwhile his mother smiled beatifically at the two of them.

The Golden Couple.

My hands shook. Even if Max had given me a chance to explain, it wouldn’t have mattered. He hated me. To him and his parents, I was nothing but a ladder climber, just like the last girl who’d sublet from Jack.

Humiliation roiled through my gut right as the Blue Angel fighter jets shot by overhead at an impossibly low elevation, the boom of sound making my heart race.

Everyone at the party watched the jets do their formations in awe, but not Max. He turned and stared at me with murder in his eyes.

He didn’t trust me around his family and friends, that much was clear. And that kind of mistrust hit a raw spot. I’d spent my life trying to please. This kind of censure was impossible for me to ignore. I wanted to crawl in a hole and hibernate for a year or two.

This living arrangement was never going to work. I couldn’t share an apartment with Jack if Max was going to show up every other day, spewing venom my way. I wanted to love it here, and Jack was amazing. But Max and his family and circle of friends were something else.

My insides twisted, and my head grew woozy. For years I’d worked to build a better life for me and my sister, and even my mom when she would allow the help. But it didn’t matter how hard I worked; it was never enough because I was never enough.

Even among people who didn’t know my past, I was damaged goods.





Chapter Six





Sophia





The next afternoon, my sister entered Green Aesthetic hauling a tote full of books over her shoulder. She was wearing jeans and an oversized UCSF sweatshirt, and her wavy brown hair was unbound.

Elise’s hair defied nature and always looked like she’d just returned from a blowout. No one should have a good hair day every day. It was probably her most annoying quality, aside from the corn chip addiction that kept her slim and trim. I’d grow a second inner tube on a diet like that.

She looked toward the rear of the shop where I was working, and I waved her over.

Hugging her giant bag to her chest like a baby, she edged her way back, maneuvering around the plants and fancy containers on display.

She sank into the chair across from my desk and huffed out a heavy sigh, her tote slipping dramatically to the floor with a loud thump.

“Your day going that good?” I said, heavy on the irony.

She sat forward and rubbed her shoulder. “I spent the last two hours creating the mathematical formulas for regression analysis. My brain hurts. But forget about that. What’s this about you moving?” Elise’s critical look said she was totally on to me. “It took you months to find that place. Why would you give it up?”

I’d texted Elise last night that I was moving, but I’d done it right before bed so I wouldn’t have to justify my reasoning, at least not right away. But now my time was up.

She leaned closer, probably reading the uncertainty in my expression. “Can I take your apartment now that you don’t want it? Say the word and I’ll move in tonight.”

She was testing me. We both knew I’d confess the true reason I was moving, because I caved under heavy scrutiny.

I looked at the drawing in front of me and shaded in a tree, ignoring her for as long as possible. My designs were created with software, but I hand-drew mocks. “You can’t afford it,” I said, my lips twisting as I considered plant spacing and generally tried to not think about leaving Jack’s apartment and returning to my mom’s place.

Now that I’d had a night to sleep on it, I realized that no part of me wanted to move back home. Then I remembered how frequently I would be forced to see Landlord Devil and his first family friends if I stayed at Jack’s.

Nope. Couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle that kind of condemnation on a regular basis.

I smiled at Elise, trying to distract her. “How’s the rest of school going?”

She rolled her eyes. “Brutal. And I’m referring to your comment about my finances, because that was harsh. True, but harsh. And school is painful right now. Not sure I’ll be able to do this nursing gig. I’ll never get through the math. Why does a nurse need statistics, anyway?”

I looked up and rattled off: “Mortality rates, infection rates, disease rates by population density—”

“How do you even know these things? You’re an artist.”

“There was a lot of math in business school.” I twisted my mouth to the side. “Though I always seem to struggle with converting miles into kilometers, which is annoying as hell, since I have to do it every week.”

Elise snorted. “We’re not European. Why would you need to use kilometers?”

“Most countries use kilometers, Elise, and I work with international clients.”

“When do you deal with foreigners?”

I shook my head in exasperation. “Only on a weekly basis. Do you ever pay attention when I tell you about my job?”

My criticism rolled right off her. “I zone out from time to time. You can blame it on the five hours of sleep I get during exams, which seems to be every other week.”