Page 4 of Best of Me

In my car, I check the time and see I still have a solid hour before I have to be at the school, so with time to kill, I head out in search of caffeine. Driving toward the center of town, I take note of the shops and restaurants I’d like to check out in the coming days. As I roll through the stoplight where the two main streets meet, I notice an empty parking spot, and lucky me, it’s right in front of a little coffee shop called Oh, Sugar.

From the white-washed bricks to the sunny yellow door with a striped awning hanging over it, Oh, Sugar is as cute and charming as the rest of Bay Ridge. At the counter, I order my usual—an iced Americano with a splash of heavy cream—before shuffling to the side to wait. A corkboard hanging on the wall catches my eye, and I venture over for a closer look. It’s covered in all of the usual stuff: flyers advertising dog walkers, babysitters, and lawn care companies galore. But it’s the small paper in the bottom corner with FOR RENT stamped across it in bold that catches my eye.

The barista calls my name, and I snap a quick picture of the flyer with my phone with the intention of texting the number listed later today. But first, coffee.

My meeting with Mr. Simms ends up being a breeze, and my classroom is better than I could have ever imagined, with its spacious layout, wall of windows, and a smartboard. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been so excited about the start of the school year before. Back in my car, I program my GPS to take me to the nearest Target before dialing Ashley.

“Yo! How goes it, fair maiden?”

“You are so freaking weird,” I murmur through my snort of laughter.

“Damn straight!” Pride colors her tone. “Now, answer my question; how’s everything going?”

My knee-jerk response is to lament about how much I hate it here without her and how proximity to my family alone is already draining my life-force, but I know that won’t fly with Ash. She’s a ride-or-die-no-bullshit kind of friend. Talking with her is like gazing into a mirror at my most honest reflection—she won’t ever let me hide, even when my truth hurts.

“Honestly, I’m kind of…excited.” I go on to tell her about meeting my principal and seeing my classroom. “I’m actually pulling into Target right now to hit up the dollar spot.”

“You know it’s not called that anymore, right? It’s Bullseye’s Playground now. First, everything was a dollar. Then it was the one, three, and five-dollar spot. And then—” I suck in my lips, knowing better than to interrupt her tirade; it’s one I’ve heard countless times before, and I know she won’t be able to focus on anything else until she gets it all out. “Hello? Mally? You still there?”

A small laugh escapes my lips. “Yeah, I’m here. I just didn’t wanna interrupt your rant.”

“Yeah, whatever. For real though, I know it’s only been a few days, but I’m really proud of you.”

“I haven’t done anything to be proud of,” I mumble, laying my head against my steering wheel.

“Mallory Parsons. Yes, you have. You had a shit home life, and instead of letting it beat you down, you got out and made something of yourself. You went to a top-notch university and graduated with a three-point-five GPA. You didn’t let your shitbag ex drag you down. You weren’t scared to leave a good job for agreatone. And now, here you are, facing your fears like the boss-ass bitch you are. You’ve taken your adversity and conquered it. You’re a freaking warrior, Mally!”

Even though I’m in my car alone, I can feel the blush staining my cheeks crimson. After a lifetime of only ever having insults hurled my way, I’m still learning how to accept a compliment. “Oh! Guess what else?” I ask, desperate for a subject change.

“What?”

“I saw a flyer for a rental house. I haven’t seen it or even contacted them, but…I don’t know, something about the ad stood out to me.”

“Text them. Rightmeow!”

“Okay. Stay on the phone with me while I do?”

“You know it.”

With my bestie’s strength at my back, I grab my phone and fire off a text to the number from the flyer.

Me: Hi. I saw your flyer this morning at Oh, Sugar. If the house is still available, I’d love more info and to maybe come and see it.

“Okay, I did. Gah. It’s probably not even available anymore. And if it is, I doubt they’d even want to rent—”

Ashley cuts me off. “Mallory, you’re spiraling. Chill. If it’s not available, it wasn’t meant to be. As for renting to you, they have no reason not to. You can cover the deposits, you have a good history, can pass a background check, and—if I do say so myself—have the most kickass personal reference there ever was.”

“You’re right.” She doesn’t say anything, but I swear I canheartheI-told-you-so-smirkshe’s undoubtedly wearing. “Okay. I’m gonna do my Target run. I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Good. Love you big.”

“Love you bigger,” I reply and end our call, my heart feeling a little bit lighter.

Two hours and three hundred dollars later, I’m walking out of Target with a buggy full of classroom essentials, along with some snacks, a new coffee pot, two pairs of pajamas, a robe, and a pair of fuzzy slippers. Once I have the trunk loaded down and the air conditioner cranked to high, I grab my phone from my purse, intending to snap a picture of my receipt to email to the school secretary, only a text notification catches my eye before I can.

Oh, holy guacamole! It’s the number from the flyer!My nerves take flight, ricocheting around in my belly like a pinball. I force myself to take a deep, calming breath as I release my swipe-down screen, tap open my camera app and finish the task at hand. With my email sent and my belly only fluttering a little, I return to the text thread.

Unknown: The house is still available. What days are you free to come check it out?

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