I was on a half shift today, so at lunch time I headed off ‘home’ with my backpack. And maybe that was where I would be going, kind of, because all of my roommate application spam had yielded me a single response and offer to meet. But you only needed one, right?

The flat was nice enough—a bit moldy, but my lungs were probably immune to all that shit by now. The kitchen was usable and I’d have my own little room, which was a huge step up. I wasn’t so sure I’d get a call back, though. The guy kept trying to ask about the last place I’d lived, and all I could do was clumsily dodge in a way that probably just made me look way sketchier than if I’d just been completely honest.

After we were done, I posted up in the first McDonald’s I came across and went back through my roommate applications. After a closer look at things, I realised that over half the places I’d applied to said ‘female only’ in the ads, which probably wasn’t helping my hit rate. Not that there were any other places left I could apply to instead.

Maybe I could just live at the nursery forever. Sure, there wasn’t a bed or a shower, but there was a hose and in some cultures it was normal to sleep on the floor, so I could probably get used to it.

But I didn’t really believe it could work out. I could be pretty careless, and Ethan was observant. Sooner or later he’d sniff me out, and then he’d make sure I stayed with them instead because he wasn’t the type to let someone suffer when he could help. Then we’d be back to the problem where I annoyed him into hating me. Couldn’t have that.

I waited an extra couple hours after close time, just in case Connor had decided to stay late, and then I took the bus back to the nursery. Everything felt quieter tonight, more deserted and alone. That wasn’t really worse than having roommates who made me feel worried and scared and sad all the time, but I wasn’t a fan. It was like an itch compared to pain.

I finished out the week doing pretty much the same things, only I didn’t get any more responses to my roommate applications. Since I didn’t seem to have been having much luck, I threw out a few more to places that were too far from the nursery or out of my budget. If one of them offered me a room, I’d figure out some way to make it work.

And I guess that did the trick, because I got another offer to go see a house after that. It was over a hundred dollars outside of the amount I’d guestimated I could afford to drop on rent each week and ridiculously nice, the pictures in the ad full of fine wooden furniture and art on the walls, but maybe I could make up the difference by mowing the lawn or something. Not that I’d ever mown a lawn before, but I could probably figure it out.

Maybe I wouldn’t have bothered if I’d taken a closer look at those pictures, because when I found myself outside the next day, it became obvious that they’d listed the room for way under market value and I’d look like a complete dickhead if I tried to haggle them down any more.

But I was here now and I didn’t have anything better to do. Besides, I was thirsty, and they’d probably give me a glass of water if I asked.