Chapter One

“KEEGAN, I AM GOING TO NEED YOU to pick up your sister today from ballet practice. My boss called, and they want me to work an extra hour this afternoon,” my mom called from inside the kitchen.

“Mom, I can’t. I have a study group that is meeting right after my A&P class, and I can’t skip this one. Can’t you ask Uncle Murphy to get her?” I didn’t mean to sound whiny, but honestly, I’ve had to miss out on the extra help, because my mom’s job always seemed to need an extra hour.

She poked her head around the corner, her wild head of dark brown curls twisting every which way. “Seriously Keegan, I need you to do this for me. Your uncle has a life outside of us, and you know I can’t tell my work no. We need the money, and I need this job.”

Always the same guilt trip, just laced with different words. Rowan Phillips, my mother, has been a single parent since forever. My dad, aka-the sperm donor, left her when they accidentally got pregnant with me. When she told him, he ended up leaving town, and she never heard from him again. My mom had to drop out of school when her parents refused to help her. So as soon as she gave birth to me, she got a job. Growing up, it was always just my mom and me. It was an ‘us against the world’ sort of thing. But then one day when I was twelve, she sat me down and told me that she was pregnant. I remember that the words didn’t make sense. I had a barrage of questions swirling around in my head, but only one that kept sticking out. How could she be pregnant again when she wasn’t married? In fact, screw married, she wasn’t even dating anybody! She explained to me that she’d been seeing a guy, mostly lunches here and there. Apparently my mother wasn’t aware that there were methods to prevent getting knocked up. Now here we were, eight years later, and my little sister was bounding down the steps in purple leggings, a blue long sleeved top, and a yellow bow that bunched all of her hair, identical to my mom’s wild mane, on the top of her head. She had my mother’s eccentric tastes. I was surprised that she didn’t get teased more at school.

I crinkled my nose at her outfit and sighed heavily. “Fine. But I can’t miss another study session, okay? I’m already barely pulling a C in that class, and if I have any chance of getting accepted into nursing school, I really need to make sure I get some help. This has to be the last time.”

She gave me her usual grin that let me know when she’d gotten her way. “Thanks kiddo.”

“Sarah, you need to sit down and eat some breakfast.” I poked her in the ribs as she passed by me, causing her to squeal. “With all of that dancing, I need to fatten you up.”

I loved my little sister dearly. Hell, because my mom worked so much, I was practically raising her. She’d been a blessing in disguise that I’d never take back. I might get aggravated at our situation, or the fact that I had to take time away from something that was really important to me—school—but I never blamed her for it. And as much as I’d like to be mad at my mom for our lot in life, I just couldn’t. I loved our little family.

“Do boys like skinny girls?” Sarah’s question took me by surprise.

Raising my brow at her when we both sat down at the small kitchen table I asked, “What do you care if boys like you?”

She took a big bite of some oatmeal my mom had placed in front of her. “Well, some of the girls in my class said that boys don’t like fat girls, and they only like the skinny ones. So why would you want me to be a fat girl? I want a boyfriend someday you know?”

I looked up at my mom who had her back to me. She was clearly laughing, because her shoulders were moving up and down. “Sarah, listen to me. Boys like girls of all shapes and sizes. If they all liked the same kind of girl, this world would be a boring place, and everybody would try to look exactly the same. And what I said was only a figure of speech. I don’t really want to fatten you up, I was just saying you need to keep eating because you’re so tiny.” Why did I feel like I was digging an even deeper hole that held more questions?

My little sister sat there for a few moments, pondering over what I’d just said. It was amazing how the logic of a second grader worked, and you could actually see the wheels turning in her head. I was literally waiting for questions to be thrown at me. All of which involved the usual suspects: who, what, when, where, why, and how come.

“So do boys like girls to be tiny?”

My head hung down, and I let out a frustrated breath. “Mom, you can jump in any time now.”

She chuckled as she placed the last dish in the dishwasher. “Now why would I do that? You seem to be handling yourself just fine.”

Shoveling a few large spoonsful of my own oatmeal into my mouth, I stood up and dumped my bowl in the sink. “Sorry, but I don’t have time for this right now. I’m going to be late for class.” My mom could field the questions. As I walked out of the kitchen, Mom hollered at me not to forget about Sarah this afternoon. “I won’t,” I shouted back in annoyance.

Walking down the hall, I went into my bedroom to get dressed. I had class in thirty minutes. I wanted to take a shower, but I didn’t have time too. Looking in my mirror, I sighed, threw my long blond hair up in a messy bun, and put on a white tank top with skinny jeans. The outfit would probably look cuter with boots, but I slipped on my flip flops instead. Grabbing my satchel, I headed out the door.

I pulled into the student parking lot with five minutes to spare, and thankfully I found a spot around the corner from the science building. I loved this campus, but the University of Georgia was huge, and finding parking wasn’t always a picnic. Today was apparently my lucky day. Getting out of my car, I all but sprinted to my class. My teacher, Dr. Christensen, was a tough cookie, and if you were late, she made no exceptions. One minute past starting time, she locked the doors, and you couldn’t come in. One missed day of Anatomy and Physiology and you were screwed! I’ve never been late, not once, and thankfully I made it just in time. As I passed by her when I walked through the door, she said, “Cutting it close Keegan.”

“Yes ma’am. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” I kept my head down, scurried to my seat, and class began as usual. We went into great detail about the cardiovascular system and how the blood pumps through the heart. By the time I walked out, my head was spinning, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to keep the valves, atrium, and ventricles straight. This was why I needed my study group. Frustrated, I pushed out the door and into the sun, making my way to the Bulldog Café on campus where I met my best friend, Macie, for lunch every other day. This time of day was fairly quiet, because it wasn’t quite lunchtime, and most classes were still going on. I went through the line, getting a small personal pizza and a soda before grabbing a table to wait for Macie. No sooner had I sat down than she came around the corner with a tray and a pissed off glare that told me I was about to get an earful.

Dropping her tray on the table, she flopped down into the chair across from me. “So last night, you know how I was supposed to go out with Mark from the basketball team, right?”

“Hello to you too,” I said sarcastically.

“Seriously Keegan, are you listening to me? Skip the pleasantries and ask me about my date,” she replied impatiently.

I smirked at her, knowing full well that she was only going to get more irritated if I didn’t indulge her. “How was your date last night?”

She flung her arms up in the air in the most dramatic fashion and said, “Oh my God, it was awful!” I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from laughing at her. “First it started off really great. He picked me up in this really hot car and was being such a gentleman. Did you know that guys who open doors for you still exist?”

“Mace, we live in the South, most of them do.”

She was looking at me like I had grown two heads. “None of the ones I dated have.”

I raised my brow. “That’s because the ones you’ve dated are only looking to get laid.”

“Shhh, I’m telling a story,” she said, ignoring my very true statement. “Anyway, he was being sweet all night, opening doors for me, paying for dinner, holding my hand…then the end of the night came. He came inside and things started getting heated. I was really into it, he was very into it.”

“So where’s the problem? I don’t want a play-by-play, Mace.”

“I’m getting there Keegan. So I was laying down and he had taken off my pants, but just when I thought things were about to get really good….BAM!”

“What? Bam what?”

“His fingers started to go to town like some adolescent who was feeling up a vag for the first time. I mean, what in the hell? He seemed so confused down there.”

Okay, now I couldn’t hold back the smile that was creeping onto my face. “Confused how?”

“Keegan, he was fucking rubbing my clit like he was trying to start a fire. In fact at one point I’m pretty sure I saw a spark. Oh God.” She put her head on her forearm. “My lady parts are so sore today, I’m pretty sure it’s going to take a week to heal, and I know I’m walking funny.”

There was no holding back my laughter. Served her right. Macie and I have been best friends since elementary school. Growing up together had always been interesting, I was the subdued quiet one while she was loud and liked the attention. I stayed back out of the limelight, while she soaked up every little bit of it. Macie was taller than me by five inches. She stood at five-foot-eight and had legs for days. Her long brown hair went to the middle of her back, and she had warm chocolate brown eyes. Guys flocked to her with a simple batting of her curved lashes. I was happy to stay in her shadow. The thing that I loved the most about Macie though, was that she always treated me like an equal to her. Most days I envied her, today however, she proved to me again why it was that I couldn’t be in her shoes even if I wanted to.

“Do I need to take you to the store to find some burn cream? I’m not sure it can be put down there, but maybe the pharmacist could direct us…” I stopped talking when she shot me a look that said I’d better shut up. I coughed out a laugh. “Sorry, I’m sure it hurts.”

“Yeah, your voice is just oozing sympathy.”

“Hey,” I said as she looked away from me, obviously more disgruntled than I originally thought. “I’m sorry, Mace, I didn’t mean it. How did the rest of the night go? Did you at least tell Mark that he was hurting you?”

“S’okay. Nah, I just faked the orgasm of my life so he would get off of me. I wanted him to go home. Any sweetness was shot to shit with his lack of lovemaking skills. How was your night?” She changed the subject.

“Ugh! I have to head off campus to get Sarah from ballet practice and miss another study session. I’m floundering here Macie. I just got out of A&P, and I don’t think I could tell you what way is up or down. I’m so confused, and my mom’s constant need for help is going to prevent me from getting into nursing school.” I was whining again, but I couldn’t help it. If anybody understood my situation at home, it was her.

“I don’t know how you deal with it. I love Sarah just as much as you do, but your mom has got to stop relying on you. Doesn’t she realize that school is important? Have you told her that you’re struggling and need the extra help?”

“Seriously, don’t you think I’ve said something to her by now?”

She held her hands up, palms out. “You’re right, sorry. You know you can always call me and ask me to help too. I don’t know why you think you have to take everything on yourself.”

Sighing I said, “Because you already do too much. I feel like I’m never going to be able to repay you.”

She reached over and grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers. “Keegan, I love you. You’re my best friend, and that means we are there for each other. You do more for me than you realize. I swear if it weren’t for you, I probably would be knocked up already and following in your mom’s footsteps. You keep me grounded. There’s no such thing as repayment or scorecards in friendship. If you need me, tell me, and I’ll be there no matter what.” She squeezed my hand when she said that last sentence.

I looked across the table at her, my eyes feeling glassy from unshed tears. “I love you too.”

She shook her head, her long brown locks falling over her shoulder. “Ack! Enough of this mushy shit, let’s figure out what you’re going to do.”

Macie released my hand and sat back in her chair. “What do you mean ‘figure out what I’m going to do’? What is there to figure out? I’m going to go find my TA after lunch, ask for the study guide, head to work for an hour, and then get Sarah.”

“No, I meant in the long term. I think it’s time you move out of that house and have your own space. Start living your own life.”

I scrunched my nose. “I have my own life.” She gave me a stern ‘cut the shit’ look. “Okay, so I don’t have my own life. But that doesn’t matter, does it? I have a job where I barely make more than what covers my expenses, let alone my mom’s. I couldn’t afford a place right now even if I wanted to.”

Macie sat there clearly trying to think of a way around my predicament, her perfectly manicured French tip nails tapping on the table. I decided to take advantage of the silence and began scarfing down my pizza. The greasy cheese wasn’t going to sit well with me later, but I was hungry and didn’t care. I had just reached for my soda when her hand shot out and grabbed a hold of my wrist, startling me.

“I’ve got it!” she shouted a little too loud.

“Jesus Mace, keep it down.”

“Sorry.” She looked around the still pretty empty space. “I know what’s going to solve your problems,” she said softer.

“Enlighten me, oh wise one,” I said sarcastically.

“You can’t afford a place on your own, and I’d totally be your roommate if I could, but Daddy gives me money, so I’m going to mooch while I can.” The girl’s parents were filthy rich. Her mom worked as a city councilwoman, and her dad was a doctor. I didn’t blame her for drinking from that well while it was still providing.

“Okay, so what do you suggest?”

“Well, if I can’t be your roommate, then let’s find you one.” She said it like it was the most simple explanation ever.

“Like where, Craigslist? I’m not looking for a roommate on Craigslist Mace. So don’t even suggest it.”

I was getting up to go dump my empty pizza box in the trash. “Not from Craigslist. Jesus, I don’t want you killed by an ax murderer. I meant from ads posted around campus.” She grabbed my hand and started pulling me to the Common Center where students went to study or hang out. “I’ve seen flyers pinned up on the bulletin boards. Let’s see if we can find you a roomy.”

***

When we got inside the building there were a few students milling about chatting and others with their nose stuck in a book. As soon as we opened the door, wind caught some of the papers that were hanging right inside, causing them to blow around. We scoured the boards for about five minutes, plucking off the little cut edges that had a name and phone number on them. Honestly, none of them looked promising. They either lived in a crappy part of town, or they wanted more than I could afford.

“Bingo!” Macie grinned while lifting up some papers covering the one she was reading.

I was shuffling the few that I had in my hand and trying to shove them in my back pocket. “What’d you find?”

Macie read the ad, but I didn’t understand what about it made her say ‘bingo’. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure I heard you say they were looking for a male. Last I checked I wasn’t sporting an extra appendage.”

“No, it said they would consider a chick too. Just think about it. The Ridgewood Apartments are right around the corner from campus, and only two blocks away from your work. Those are really nice, and rent is within the amount you could afford. Plus, it’s a guy. Who doesn’t want to live with a hot guy twenty-four-seven? It beats living with some crazy-ass female who is constantly stealing your clothes and makeup. Dude I’d cut a bitch for touching my eyeliner.”

I rolled my eyes. “Who said it was a hot guy? He could be a complete nerd who wears his pants up to his belly button, a pair of loafers with tassels, horn-rimmed glasses, and be covered in pimples. Better yet, he could be a gamer who doesn’t move from the couch and smokes five packs of cigarettes a day, which if you think about it could endanger my life. He could fall asleep with a cigarette in his mouth, and next thing you know, you will be reading about me in the paper and how they could only identify my remains by my dental records.”

She tore the number off the bottom of the page and handed it to me. “You’re psychotic.”

I slipped the paper in my back pocket and told myself I would throw it away later. “Be realistic Mace. None of these seem like they will work. I’m going to have to stay with my mom for a while longer until I can get my feet under me. At least then I could go find my own place and not have to worry if I’m signing a lease with the roommate from hell.”

She stood with her hands on her hips, and she watched me for a second before she said, “Has anyone ever told you that you are a very pessimistic person?”

I smiled. “Only you. Now come on, I need to head to work, and you have class.”

***

“Keegan, can you take that stack of papers and file them in the records that I left out last night? I’m so behind!” Marsha asked from her desk.

I worked part-time at a doctor’s office in their medical records room. It was usually only Marsha and me that occupied this space. She had been here for almost ten years, and she was the one who hired me to help her out. When Doctor Hill increased his number of patients and hired a physician’s assistant, Marsha’s workload doubled. She was technically my boss and who I asked for time off or when I needed to cut out early to take care of stuff at home. I was thankful for that because she was nice to me.

“Sure, no problem!” I answered as I grabbed the papers and started the filing. “Ugh, when is Dr. Hill going to move to an electronic system?”

She looked up at me over the top of her leopard print glasses. “Probably never. He’s old-school and likes to have a paper trail.”

I grumbled as I moved between two tall shelves that housed stacks of medical records. While I filed I asked Marsha, “Hey you don’t mind if I head out a bit early do you? My mom needs me to pick up my sister from practice.”

“You know I don’t have a problem with it.”

We continued working for another hour before I needed to leave. I gathered my things and said goodbye before I stepped out into the bright sun. I shivered a little as I walked to my car. It was the middle of fall here in Georgia, and today it felt every bit of crisp and cool. The leaves hadn’t started changing yet, but they would soon. This was my favorite time of year. Next month I’d be taking Sarah to the pumpkin patch out in the country so we could pick our own pumpkins for Halloween.

***

After picking Sarah up, I drove back to campus and met up with the TA so I could get the study notes for class. He went through a few things on the sheet to help me understand it better, but honestly I was more confused and deflated by the time I got back to my car. Sarah had been skipping along happily beside me, and it was unfortunate I couldn’t mirror her enthusiasm. My A&P class was very important. The sciences held more weight on your academic record than say, sociology, when it came time to turn in your nursing application for the program. If I didn’t walk away from this class with an A I would have to retake it. Looking at Sarah in the backseat bouncing around, I missed the days of being carefree. No worries, or cares other than deciding what I would have for a snack after school. Something needed to change. I was starting to think that maybe Macie was onto something. Could moving out be my answer to getting my life under control? How would my mom take the news? The guilt of leaving her and Sarah to fend for themselves was creeping up my throat and making my eyes sting. The fact that I felt that responsible for the both of them spoke volumes. Well, in my head it did, but the guilt in my heart was what led to me stay. When I pulled up at the house, Sarah unbuckled and went running inside. I sat in my car for a few more moments. My pocket held at least ten ripped pieces of papers with phone numbers on them. The mere idea of calling any of them made me leery. I’d never lived on my own. I knew I could take care of myself if I left, but I worried about what would happen with Mom and Sarah. Maybe I could just call a few of them to see what they were offering and make my decision after that? Who said I would have to commit to any of them just because I called to ask? Yeah, that was what I’d do. I got out of the car and walked inside. The problem: I knew as soon as the thought crossed my mind that I would find an excuse for each one of numbers I called. No matter how perfect they would sound, they just wouldn’t work out for me.

Mom came home an hour later than she said she would. When she walked through the front door, the air from outside blew in past her, and I smelled men’s cologne wafting around her. I narrowed my eyes at her, and she knew I knew.

“Don’t start with me Keegan, I’ve had a bad day.”

“Hmmm… yeah, smells like it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She came in and set her purse on the table by the door.

Sarah was in the other room watching television, so I knew she wouldn’t hear us. “What it means, is that you are later than you told me you’d be, and I had to make dinner for Sarah.”

“You cook all the time Keegan, what’s the big deal?” She spun around and walked into the kitchen. I followed her.

“The big deal is that I had to miss out on another study session because you supposedly had to work late. Where were you?” I was trying to keep my voice down so Sarah wouldn’t hear me.

“Jed from the office asked me out for a drink. We weren’t gone that long. Cut me a break.” She bent over in front of the fridge and started digging around. “Where are the leftovers?”

“There aren’t any. I made Sarah a sandwich with chips. If you want something, make it yourself.” I was so mad, I had to leave or I’d say something I’d regret. I marched up the steps, and I heard my mom say something about me being dramatic. Oh yeah, we would see who was dramatic. I was twenty years old and still living at home. Sick of feeling like a loser that was going to fail out of college, the papers in my pocket were a reminder of my possible solution. My mom had just pushed me enough that I was ready to take a leap of faith. Sitting down on my bed, I pulled them all out. Starting with the first one I grabbed, I made the call. Taking a deep breath, I heard someone pick up.

“Hello?”

“Umm, yeah, hi. I’m calling about the ad for a roommate.”