“What do my trips have to do with anything?”
“It’s not fair that you’re always getting to go someplace and I’m not. I can’t believe how mean you are sometimes. I’ve gotta go. My flight leaves in like three hours.”
Courtney must have sent her at least a hundred texts and emails while she was in the Bahamas. Ranting about what a selfish, self-centered, self-consumed bitch Allison was. It nearly ruined her holiday, her phone chirping and dinging all the time.
But it was still worth it.
When Allison returned, Courtney said she was going to kick her out, but Allison said she’d have to think twice about that, because both their names were on the lease. Allison put on a huge song and dance that she really, really, really was going to pay her back, that she was going to ask her mother for some money, that she was sure she could come up with a pretty good story, one that would touch her mother’s heart, and there’d be a check in the mail within the week.
That was a week ago. There isn’t likely to be a check in the mail today. She hasn’t called her mother yet and asked her for money. Allison thinks it’s too soon after the tooth story. She figures, if she can come up with an equally compelling tale, she’ll try it on her mother in another week or so.
Maybe a bedbug story. Everyone’s shitting their pants about bedbugs. She’ll tell her mother she has them in her building, that she and Courtney must move to a hotel for a week while the pest control people come in and spray and kill th
e little bastards. And they’re telling Allison, you have to throw out all your clothes, the bugs may be hiding in them, go buy yourself some new duds.
Allison’s mother has already been emailing her every news item she comes across about bedbugs. This story will play very nicely into her fears.
Her mother will send money. Allison is sure of it. She just has to keep herself from spending it on something else before she gives it to Courtney.
Allison’s cell, sitting on the coffee table, rings.
She comes up from under the covers, guesses it will be Courtney, and damned if it isn’t. She wants to ignore it, but Courtney will just keep trying her, so she reaches over to the table, grabs the phone, and puts it to her ear.
“Yeah,” she says.
“It’s been a week,” Courtney says. “Did the money come from your mother?”
“Not yet. I mean, I haven’t gone down to check the mail, but I don’t think it’s going to be here.”
“Why would that be, Allison?”
“Okay, look, I haven’t called her yet. I was trying to think of a good story for her, and I’ve finally got one, so I’m going to call her today. So, like, in three or four days, the money should be here.”
“Honest to God, you are such a piece of work.”
“I really mean it,” she says. “I’m going to pay you everything I owe you.”
“I don’t care whether you’re on the lease. If you don’t pay your share you’re going to come home and find all your shit in the hall. I swear to God. I’m already looking around for another roommate.”
“Jesus, what the hell kind of friend are you?”
“What kind of friend am I? What would you do if you were me?”
“Okay, look, if I haven’t paid you by this time next week, you won’t have to kick me out. I’ll leave, and you can bring someone else in here.”
“A week,” Courtney says skeptically.
“I swear. Cross my heart and all that shit.”
“I’m an idiot, a total fucking idiot,” Courtney says and hangs up.
There’s no sense trying to go back to sleep now. Allison sits up in bed, reaches for the remote on the coffee table, and clicks on the television. As NY1 comes on with the latest news roundup, she grabs her phone again to see whether she has any emails or Facebook messages.
She’ll definitely call her mother this afternoo
n. First, though, she’ll go online and read up on bedbugs so she has plenty of convincing details to work into her story. She thinks, in a way, her mother may even know she’s being taken advantage of, but it’s not nearly as unsettling as those times in the past when Allison disappeared. Just took off for a few months. At least, when Allison hits her up for money, her mother knows where she is.
Allison glances from the phone to the TV and back again. Hears something about showers in the afternoon, clearing by evening.
She opens Safari on her phone and does a search for “bedbugs.” Holy shit, only about a million stories. She narrows the search by adding the words “New York” and just about as many results come back.
Glances back at the TV. Someone has jumped onto the subway tracks on the 6th Avenue line. Back to her phone. Thinks, maybe get the name of an actual bug-killing company that the landlord’s hiring, give the story that extra ring of authenticity.
Looks back up at the TV. Is about to look away when she thinks she catches a glimpse of a face she recognizes.