The Bachelor

One

I drive along the dimly lit road, on my way home from the library. It's almost midnight and I had been studying since about two o'clock. I have the car radio blaring, so loud it's hurting my ears. But I need the stimulation to keep my tired eyes from closing. I'm functioning on zero caffeine and I haven't eaten since lunch. I jolt back up, after almost losing focus. Luckily for me, the roads are practically empty.

I live in an apartment about twenty minutes from campus with my best friend Becky. I lived on residence for my first year but it was way too expensive. We managed to find this place and by splitting the rent, I'm able to get by. It's a crappy apartment- I'm just going to say it. It's not even meant to be lived in by two people. There's one bedroom off of a tiny living area with a kitchen and a bathroom. Becky gets the bedroom, I sleep on the pull out couch. It's not really what I would like, but I can't afford anything else. I'm in fourth year at University of Oregon. Even with a year of working before going to university, I've racked up so much debt, I'm seriously wondering if I'm going to be living on the streets next year. I don't ask my parents for help, it wouldn't be fair.

I bring my eyes back to the road, not even noticing that they had strayed. I'm a few blocks from my building. My arms are getting tired from holding them up to the steering wheel. Before I know it my eyes are closed and within seconds they are opened again to the deafening and horrible sound of metal crashing on metal and a hard impact forcing me forward, my seatbelt the only thing preventing me from flying through the windsheild of my beat up 2004 Toyota Corolla. I feel my car crash back to the ground sending a shock through my whole body. I gasp for air. I lean back on my seat and bring my hand up to my neck slowly, feeling the immediate effect of whiplash. Then I feel the searing pain in my left wrist. I must have jammed it into the steering wheel. I reach my other hand across my body and open my door. It opens without issue, and I slowly shift my legs sideways and get out. As soon as I stand up I feel the pain in my right leg and immediately grab on to my car behind me for support. Still in somewhat of a daze, I assess the situation. It didn't take a genius to figure out that I had just rear ended someone at a red light. It's only then that I see a man looking at the smashed rear of what I think is a mercedes. He turns to me and I can see that he is angry. He starts to yell,

"What the fuck?!" I take a step back. He shouts profanties into the air and all I can do is stand there. I must have fallen asleep. Shit. I'm starting to realize that this is going to get really bad. I can barely afford insurance as it is and after a claim like this my rates are going to skyrocket. I realize that my mouth is hanging open and I can feel tears welling in my eyes. I don't want to be that girl that cries to get out of trouble so I bite my lip and hold it in. The man is right in front of me,

"Are you ok?" he asks, "Can you hear me?" I realize he has been talking this whole time. I'm still kind of out of it but his harsh voice brings me back to reality.

"Um, yeah, are you? I'm so sorry I-"

"I'm fine but what the hell were you doing?" he says harshly.

"I don't know I'm so sorry I don't know what happened I-" and then I lost control of my tears and they began to fall. The man didn't look sympathetic and with every second I grew more and more embarassed.

"I'm going to need your insurance information," he says flatly. I cringe at the thought. I run my hands through my hair in frustration, and I can see him getting impatient.

"Shit," I mutter as I turn around to go back to my car.

"Wait," he calls out, and I turn around to see a look of pity on his face, "How old are you?" It seems like an odd question but I reply,

"Twenty-two."

"Are you a student?" he asks.

"Yes," I respond, wondering why this was relevent.

"Would this ruin your life?" he asks. The question surprises me and I take a second to understand what he means but he elaborates.

"I mean, can you afford this?" he asks, and I assume he means having to file an insurance claim. I look at him and shake my head no. I hear him swear under his breath before he speaks again,

"Listen, give me your phone number, I'll call you tomorrow and we can talk. I think we'll be able to work something out."

"Um... ok sure," I stutter, confused, but willing to accept any way out of this situation. He pulls out an iphone and hands it to me so I can enter my information. When I give it back to him he immediately calls for tow trucks. I walk over to the curb and sit down. I can't believe this just happened. I feel myself about to cry again but the man walks over.

"My name is John Freeman by the way," and he sits down beside me, extending his hand.

"Caroline Davies," I reply, shaking his hand. I notice my hand is still trembling.

"I can call you a cab," he offers.

"No I only live a few blocks from here, I can walk,"

"Are you sure? I can-"

"Really I'm fine," I say as politely as I can. Upsetting him would be the last thing I would want to do. Thankfully he doesn't argue. The tow trucks arrive and after everything is sorted out I say goodbye to Mr. Freeman and begin my walk. It takes me just over five minutes to reach my building. The key card mechanism is out of order so I walk right in the front door. I make my way across the drab lobby with yellowing tiles and a front desk with no one behind it. I walk past the elevator without a second glace because, surprise, it's broken down. It hasn't worked the whole time I've lived here. Luckily I only live on the third floor because after three flights of stairs my legs are ready to collapse.

I emerge into my hall and shuffle along the faded green carpet to the door with a black '3' painted on the door. The rest of the doors have metal numbers but ours had fallen off before we even moved in. I slide my key into the lock and a sweet sense of relief washes over me as I step into my familiar apartment. I lock the door behind me and walk straight to my "bed" which is still folded out from the night before. I don't bother changing my clothes before I plop myself down on my bed and pull the covers over me. I fall asleep almost instantly. I don't even think about what is going to happen. I'll just take it one day at a time. Everything is going to be ok.