Page 6 of The Jerk in Apartment 1B

But he wasn’t opening the door for me. He’s stealing my cab!

“Hey!” I yell.

He doesn’t even notice me as he gets in the cab and shuts the door.

“Hey!” I bang on the window. “That was mine!”

He ignores me and talks to the driver.

It’s just like I told Callie. Guys are jerks. What happened to chivalry? Men used to lay their coats over a puddle so women wouldn’t get their shoes wet, and now? They kick you out of their apartment and steal your cab!

Another taxi is heading this way and I flag it down.

“Where to?” the driver asks as I get in the cab.

I give him Sara’s address, then give her a call.

“Sara,” I say when she answers. “I’m heading over. Are you home?”

“Yeah. Hey, what’s going on with you and Asher? He said he’s sick, but he didn’t sound like it on the phone.”

“He’s not sick. We broke up.” As I say the words, the emotions I was holding in come bursting out and I start sobbing.

“Oh, Trina, I’m sorry. What do you need? Wine? Ice cream? Tequila?”

“All of it. Whatever you have.” I sniffle and lean up to the driver. “Do you have a tissue?”

He grunts something and shakes his head. He could’ve just said no. But he’s a man, and men are jerks.

“You said you’re on your way?” Sara says.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in like twenty minutes.”

When I arrive at her place, I wonder how we’re both going to fit in such a tiny space. It’s a studio apartment that’s barely big enough for one person. The apartment I just left was a one bedroom with a separate living room and kitchen. It was huge compared to this.

“I know it’s a little cramped,” Sara says as I look around. “But I think we can make it work.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I say, trying to stay positive. But I can’t see staying here for more than a day or two. It’s so small I can’t even turn around without bumping into something. “It’ll be like we’re in school again.”

“I think those rooms were bigger,” she says with a laugh.

Sara and I went to fashion design school here in New York. She lived on my floor, but I didn’t get to know her until we interned together during the summer. I wouldn’t say we’re close friends, but we go out now and then for drinks or to hear music. Asher didn’t like concerts so I’d go with Sara whenever I wanted to see a band.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” I tell her. “I’ll look for a place first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, I’ll find something I can afford.” I sit down on her bed, which is the only place to sit other than a pillow on the floor in front of the TV. “I lost my job today.”

“Today?” Sara says like she can’t believe it. “The same day that—”

“Yeah.” I look over at her. “What are the odds I lose my job and my fiancé on the same day? I should probably go to bed before anything else bad can happen.”

She goes over to her kitchen, which is just a tiny sink next to a mini fridge with a microwave on it, and picks up a bottle of tequila. “Would this help?”

“I’ll take whatever you got.”

She brings the tequila over. “I wish I knew of a job you could apply for, but it seems like all the fashion jobs are going to interns, at least the entry level ones.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I was let go. Why pay me to work there when they could get an intern for free?” I sigh. “I should’ve taken that Paris job. I could be there right now, sipping champagne while gazing at the Eiffel Tower. But instead, Rina’s over there, living the life I could’ve had.”

As I open the tequila, Sara brings me a plastic cup. “Sorry, it’s all I have.”

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