Page 26 of My Best Bet

“Where the hell did you find this place?” she asked, her green eyes wide with worry. “This looks like a place where people get killed!”

“It’s fine.” I waved her off. “The woman who lives in the house up there is very kind.” I thought so anyways, I couldn’t catch everything she said with her super thick Scottish accent. “And she said her grandson would be by next week to fix…” I trailed off. I didn't want to tell her that the lock wasn’t working all that well.

“Mer…” She said my name like a warning. “To fix what?”

“Nothing, it’s fine,” I chided.

As soon as we were inside, Piper’s eyes drifted over my 450-square-foot apartment that was completely gray, from the hardwood floor to the kitchen table, to the walls. But I think I dida decent job with the little fall decor touches I purchased from Hobby Lobby.

While she was busy checking out the place, I lodged a metal rod against the door so no one would be able to get in.

“Oh my God.” She whirled around to face me and dropped her big designer purse on the ground with a thud. “I saw that.”

“It’s fine,” I squeaked out.

Her forehead creased. “The lock doesn't work?”

I shrugged. “The metal rod thingy does.”

It took a full minute for her shoulders to relax. “Good thing I’ve been taking jiu jitsu.”

My eyebrows popped up. “You have?”

“Yupp. Every Sunday. I hate Sundays,” she said with a sigh.

I knew the feeling. I hated weekends because I had nothing to do with way too much time. I’d been like that since I was a kid. I loved the grind of the week at school and then at the rink. But the weekends seemed to stretch on forever. Like clockwork, I’d end up thinking myself into an existential crisis every time. There were only a few years of reprieve from that feeling because of…

Nope.

Thinking about him while this intoxicated was a recipe for disaster.

Right then, my whole apartment shook rather violently. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling and a loud rumbling sound filled my ears. An empty picture frame of mine clattered to the uneven hardwood floor.

“Earthquake!” Piper screamed. She scrambled over to me and hugged me tight, wrapping her long limbs around me.

“No,” I laughed, “it’s not. I promise.” When the shaking and rumbling finally stopped, I patted her arm. “Glad to know you’d hug me through it though.”

“Whatwasthat?” she demanded.

“A train.”

“A… train?” she said slowly.

“The subway,” I supplied.

“The L?” she asked.

“Maybe? Is that what they call it in Chicago?”

“Oh my God.” She pulled out her phone and tapped on the screen. “You live almost right under the L. How much are you paying for this place?”

I didn’t even want to tell her because it was still a lot– well, what I considered a lot, at least.

“Move in with me,” she demanded.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “No.”

“C’mon, I’m a good roomie.” Her eyes practically begged me.

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