Best Laid Plans

Chapter One: And It All Fell Down

"Oliver! Did you drink all of this week's milk again?" I yelled over my shoulder in the general direction of the apartment. I'd only been living here two weeks but already I was over budget on food because of the neverending appetites of my two roommates. 

"Why do you always assume it's me?" a boy with sandy blonde hair asked from the couch where he was engrossed in a video game. His heavily freckled nose pointed in the air, feigning offense.  

"Who else eats through three hundred dollars of food a week?" I threw the empty carton into the trash and whacked him on the head.  

"I'm a growing teenage boy," he scowled, rubbing his head.  

"You're only twelve and a half and still a cute little baby to me, " I cooed, pinching the rapidly vanishing baby fat in his cheeks.  

"I'm telling Ryan about this-" 

"Whatever it is. I am not in the mood to hear it."  

Oliver's older brother walked through the front door of the apartment and sighed as he threw his backpack onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He poured himself a glass of orange juice.  

"But she-" 

"Guess what Oliver did ag-" 

"I told you I don't want to hear it. Gwen, you're an adult. Why are you arguing with a child?" Ryan turned the full force of his solemn grey eyes on me and my heart started playing hopscotch. Actually, I was seventeen and a half, but if he wanted to round up, then I suppose I was an adult.  

"I'm not a child!" Oliver protested, but Ryan just shrugged and then went into his room, probably to study.  

"What's his problem?" we both asked each other at the same time.  

"I don't know, but do you want to play some Mario Karts?" Oliver asked, holding up a second controller. I took it as a peace offering and joined him.  

"You're going down, little boy," I taunted. "Oh, and you're buying more milk tomorrow."

*****

Two Weeks Earlier

New York.  

The city of lights. The city of opportunities.  

The city of ridiculously expensive rent.  

"What do you mean the room isn't available anymore?"  

I was standing in the NYU housing office, and the graduate student behind the counter was not being helpful.  

"Exactly what the letter we sent you said. Look, sometimes students receive summer positions on campus at the last second and they get priority. I'm sorry, but you were just unlucky this time." She continued to file her nails behind the desk.  

"Look, I got my internship on the condition that I would find my own housing. Are there any other rooms?" I pleaded.  

"There are a limited number of rooms available in the summer. I am sorry." The girl ended the conversation there and waved the woman behind me forward. I sighed and angrily pushed open the door to the office. This was supposed to be my great summer, but so far it was shaping up to be a disaster. First, the airport had lost my luggage, and now even if they find it I have no idea where to have them ship it because I am apparently homeless.  

"Great," I muttered, "Where am I supposed to find a place to live now?" 

Just then the annoying tinkling ring tone of my phone went off and I saw my mother's picture appear on my phone's touch screen. Swallowing hard, I answered.