We drove the next five blocks to the diner and pulled into the parking lot. Inside, I couldn’t help myself. I ordered French fries and a soda because I felt like crap. When the food came, I pushed the fries to the middle of the table.

Ava sighed. “He came by the salon today.”

I chewed one fry after another, barely even tasting their salty goodness.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Ava tried again.

“He offered to let me rent half of the cabin.”

“Half of the cabin?” She snuck one fry and popped it in her mouth.

“Like we would be roommates,” I clarified.

“Oh?” Ava’s voice indicated that she didn’t hate the idea.

“I could have one of the bedrooms, and we would share the fridge and the living room.” I wiped my hands on a napkin. “He said he works a lot, so he wouldn’t often be home.”

“That’s good, right?” Ava sipped her tea.

“No, it’s not good,” I snapped. “I don’t want a roommate.”

“You could come live with me,” Ava offered.

I thought about it. Ava lived in a studio apartment, with one large bedroom/living room area, a kitchenette, and a single bathroom. The idea of trying to squeeze into her life was absurd. Where would I sleep?

“No but thank you.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing to share a cabin with Jason,” Ava said, picking up another fry.

“I can’t believe you’re even suggesting that,” I sputtered.

“Hear me out,” Ava said, waving the fry at me. “He’s a cop. So, you know you’ll be safe out there in the forest. You’ll get out from under that asshole landlord. You’ll keep your eye on the market and buy a new cabin when one becomes available.”

I let my head fall to the table, muttering into the laminate, “I don’t have the money to buy a cabin. That’s why this deal was so perfect.”

“The deal is over, Lindsey,” Ava said. “You just have to pick the best option moving forward.”

I sat up again, no closer to an answer but tired of self-pity. “I wonder if I can get my old apartment back.”

“There you go.” Ava smiled and pushed the plate of French fries back at me. “You ordered these things, and now I’m eating all of them.”

I laughed. I sat back in the booth and picked up my phone.

“Now?” Ava asked.

I thumbed my way to Apartments.com, put in the zip code, and scrolled some of the listings. Ava sat back and pulled out her phone to join me in my search.

“Here’s one.” She leaned forward and held out her phone screen to me. It was an apartment community in a neighboring town, a twenty-minute commute away.

I shook my head. “Too far. I want to stay in Singer’s Ridge.” I pulled up a listing on my device, a basement apartment in a home on Main Street. Pictures showed dingy walls and a bathroom that shared space with a water heater. I swiped left. The next listing was for the apartment complex I had just vacated, only there weren’t any one bedrooms left. I set my phone down in frustration. “This is crazy. I don’t want an apartment. I can’t move back into town after I’ve been living on the mountain. You don’t know what it’s like up there…” I reached my hands across the table to plead with my friend.

“I’m sure it’s nice,” she said, “but you don’t have a lot of options.”

“I’m just going to refuse to leave,” I decided. “What’s the worst they can do?”

“Um, call the police?” Ava said. “Force you out? Throw all your shit out on the front lawn and change the locks?”

I felt my heart breaking and again wished for some ice cream.