Page 6 of Yolo

“Hello, Lea.”

I looked at Margaret.

I hated that she called me Lea.

She hated my first name—Bindi.

Needless to say, when she started calling me Lea, my middle name, at first I’d chosen not to respond. But over time, I realized that I either dealt with her disgusting attitude or I left Joseph. And despite his actions that morning, I loved him for some stupid reason.

Though, I was beginning to realize after this morning that the line between love and hate was very fine, and I was starting to lean more toward the hate side.

I’d spent the entire trip to Colorado going over my life.

If I broke up with him, he’d have to find a new apartment. That apartment was in my name, and I’d lucked out with the landlord I had, giving me a great deal on it.

Being in the middle of downtown Albuquerque, it really should be about ten times the rent. But my landlord’s mother, who’d lived in it before me, had passed away. And since he hadn’t wanted to deal with the apartment, he’d let the first person to ask move into it for a song.

It was even stuck-up Harris approved, which was why Joseph was living with me, and not the other way around.

If I left him, he’d have to move out, and he’d try to fight me on it—the location was prime. Near his job, near nightlife, and prestigious enough that people knew he had money when he told them where he lived.

I’d also have to find a way to pay for everything again.

He made way more than me, but it was me who paid the rent and utilities. He was the one who usually paid the extras, like groceries, going out to eat, and the fun stuff. I’d have to go back to paying for that myself.

Luckily I’d just paid my car off, so the only “extra” I’d have was entertainment funds.

And I didn’t have to go out to have fun.

As long as I had Netflix, I’d be happy.

“Are you ready?” Leland, Joseph’s brother, grumbled. “We’ve been waiting forever.”

They’d been waiting ten minutes.

But apparently, that was “forever,” according to them.

They weren’t used to waiting on anyone.

And the only reason they had to wait was because I’d had to use the restroom.

Imagine that.

Being cooped up in a car with your boyfriend who refused to stop for six hours and needing to use the restroom was not my idea of fun. The nerve.

“Let’s go,” I said, trying to sound cheerful and not managing it.

They all looked at me like I was the problem.

I kept my mouth shut and fell into step with them.

Then listened to them all complain when I was being slow.

I was slow.

I wasn’t out of shape.

In fact, I was in great shape. My job as a paramedic for the Albuquerque Fire Department demanded it.

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