Page 49 of Yolo

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I conceded.

“Give your notice to your landlord,” he said. “Pay the rest of the months. But get out of there.”

I knew he was right.

But why did the thought of leaving her feel like a hole was opening up inside my chest?

Part Two

Present Day

Giving away free samples of my attitude today.

—Bindi to Garrett

BINDI

It broke my heart the day they moved out.

The first time I walked out onto my balcony and Boss wasn’t there for me to feed, I cried.

The second day when I got my mail and the sexy-voiced Garrett wasn’t there getting his mail, I felt a piece of my heart break off.

The third day, I was a damn mess.

The irrational thing was, I shouldn’t have been so upset.

I mean, he’d straight told me that he was going to move out.

Sure, I didn’t expect that to happen quite so soon, but he’d been bluntly honest with me. He’d also never given me any indication that he was willing to explore more with me.

Which had me controlling my shit by the fourth week. I realized that being a sad sac wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

That was when I decided to stop acting like my life had ended the day that rock had hit me in the head and completely stolen my vision.

My mom and I—her unaware of how heartbroken I was when Garrett had left—had searched for jobs in my field in the Dallas Metroplex that was also accessible by bus.

We’d found four such jobs, and though I’d worked at all of them for a little bit, none of them had been a great fit.

The first one was pretty cool—a startup tech company that might or might not have a lot of non-native English speakers also working there—but the pay wasn’t very good.

And although I liked the concept and felt like they might go somewhere someday, that wasn’t really in my wheelhouse.

Money, unfortunately, made the world go round.

The second and third had competitive pay, but getting to the job itself was a nightmare, and they were sort of unwilling to work with me on getting there besides sending a cab that I’d then have to pay for.

The fourth one was the best of them all. Competitive pay, honestly perfect working environment. However, the woman I was covering for was out on maternity leave and had been set to come back in three weeks’ time.

That job had ended for me as of yesterday evening.

Which led me to now.

I was stepping down the steps of the bus.

“Thanks again, Cool!” I called out.

---