I seize my suitcase from the floor and toss it on the bed, yanking clothes off hangers and throwing open drawers.
Jacob gets a call on the taxi ride over to Mom’s. He answers the phone with his mouth full of food, which makes me laugh a little, and soon I'm telling him all about everything. The bus crash, the blow up session I had at work and the fact that I'm no longer employed, the fight with dad. And that I'm in a taxi on my way to Mom’s with a suitcase and a handbag crammed full of all of my stuff.
“You can’t see me right now,” Jacob’s replies, “but I’m applauding.”
“Yeah? But, what if I've totally screwed myself over? I have no job, no place else to go. What if mom takes off somewhere or decides she doesn’t want me living with her anymore?”
“That won’t happen.”
“But what if it does?”
“Then you move in with me.”
“Jacob! I just met you!” I can feel my face turn beat red.
“I know, but I’m planning on sticking around, so if that ever happens, which it won’t, I plan to be renting a wicked basement suite and eating Kraft dinner just down the street from you, so you could just come live with me.”
“Jacob, that’s preposterous!”
“I’ve never met a girl who uses the word “preposterous”. You must be the perfect roommate.”
“Based on the fact that I say “preposterous”?”
“Precisely.”
“I see you have a rigorous roommate interviewing process.” I grin, momentarily forgetting that my stomach is rolling like a laundromat tumble dryer.
“Extremely rigorous. Hey, call me tonight after you’re all settled in at your Mom’s place, okay?”
“I will.”
“Promise? Don’t forget!”
“I promise. Bye.”
“Bye, Sam.”
I snap my phone shut, smiling. Even though I still feel nervous I feel better after talking to him. The cab driver pulls in front of the apartment.
“Here you go.”
“Oh, right...”
The meter says I owe him $18.75, and I realize I have no cash in my wallet.
“I have a bank card...”
“My machine is broke. No cash?”
The driver sounds annoyed and I start to panic a little, until I see the apartment doors fly open and my mother bolting out, arms waving. She's wearing a pair of black wide-legged pants with swirling silver patterns on the bottoms and a bright red tank top with silver beads that clank together as she runs.
“Sam! I’m here! Don’t pay the cab!”
I laugh as she arrives at the side of the cab and leans in to hand the driver a twenty dollar bill. “That should cover it.”
YOU ARE READING
I Am Anastasia
Teen FictionSamantha wishes she were someone else. Anastasia, to be exact. Anastasia doesn't sit in the corner and read because she's too shy to talk to anyone. She doesn't keep trying and failing. Anastasia slays dragons. Of course, Anastasia is only a charact...
