PART ONE
Chapter 1
Julie Seagle stared straight ahead and promised herself one thing: She would never again rent an apartment via Craigslist. The strap of her overstuffed suitcase dug into her shoulder, and she let it drop onto the two suitcases that sat on the sidewalk. It wasn't like she had anywhere to carry them now. Julie squinted in disbelief at the flashing neon sign that touted the best burritos in Boston. Rereading the printout of the email again did nothing to change things. Yup, this was the correct address. While she did love a good burrito, and the small restaurant had a certain charm about it, it seemed pretty clear that the one-story building did not include a three-bedroom apartment that could house college students. She sighed and pulled her cell phone from her purse.
"Hi, Mom."
"Honey! I gather you made it to Boston? Ohio is missing you already. I can't believe you're already off at college. How is the apartment? Have you met your roommates yet?"
Julie cleared her throat and looked at the flat roof of the restaurant. "The apartment is... airy. It has a very open floor plan."
"How is your room? Is it tiny?" Her mother sounded concerned. "Well, even if it is, it's probably better than some concrete dorm room, right?"
"My room? Oh, it's, uh, rather sparse, I'd say." Julie sat down on one of her bags. A city bus squealed to a halt just behind her, and she flinched at the high-pitched noise.
"What was that? Is your room right on the street? Oh God, are you on the first floor? That's dangerous, Julie. It's much easier for some criminal to break in. Are there locks on the windows? Let me ask your uncle about that. Maybe there is something you could do to make it more secure."
"I'm not seeing any windows at the moment, Mom." Julie felt her eyes begin to tear up. This was a nightmare. She had been in Boston, or more specifically Jamaica Plain, for a mere hour, and already her hopes for a glamorous college life were beginning to smell a lot more like South American specialties than she'd envisioned. "I don't seem to actually have a room."
Her mother paused. "What do you mean you don't have a room? I sent first, last, and a security deposit just like the landlord asked. A cashier's check, for God's sake! He gave away your room?" The rising panic in her mother's voice was not helping.
"I'm at the correct address. The taxi driver assured me I was in the right place. But my supposed apartment building is a burrito restaurant."
"Burritos! Holy mother of God!"
"I know. Burritos are always alarming." Julie looked around, totally unsure what she should do next. "Mom, what am I going to do?" Although she didn't want to freak out her mother more than she had to, Julie couldn't control the waver in her voice. She was alone in an unfamiliar city, knew no one here, and was sitting on a mountain of luggage.
At least the advantage of being stranded on a crowded street was that no one seemed to think she looked at all out of place. Plenty of people had walked by without giving her a second glance. It was the first week of September, and she was in a college town; more than one U-Haul truck could be spotted weaving through traffic, delivering students and their possessions to actual apartments that did not double as restaurants. Julie quickly wiped her eyes and pulled her sunglasses down from her head. She'd give anything to be riding in one of those moving trucks, crammed in with a pile of friends.
"I don't have anywhere to live. And all that money you spent... This was supposed to be cheaper than the dorms. And it wasn't supposed to smell like burritos." Leaving home for the first time, getting scammed into paying for a non-existent apartment, and finding oneself homeless in Boston was proving to be agitating.
"Julie, don't worry about the money right now. This isn't your fault. I thought the ad looked perfectly normal, too. You sit tight for a few minutes and I'm going to call the college and see if they can help you, OK? Just hold on. You all right?"
Julie sniffed. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Don't move. I'll call you right back and we'll fix this."
Julie put in her earphones and passed the next excruciating twenty minutes by listening to morose music, chipping off the deep purple nail polish she'd applied the night before, and updating her Facebook status.Julie Seagle Boston, Day 1: Refuse to refer to city as Beantown as would sound too touristy. Still, am full resident now despite not having actual residence.
The pavement radiated heat, and so far this sauna of a city was not winning her over. A little self-pity seemed in order. All she wanted was a normal college experience and the chance to enjoy school without worrying that her friends would think it was ridiculous that she actually liked learning. She didn't need to go to the most expensive university in the country, or to the top-rated, be-all-end-all of schools. She just wanted to be free from feeling like she had to hide who she was. It would be nice to finally be comfortable admitting that she was crazy about literature, that she thought curling up with a textbook was soothing, and that she wanted nothing more than to delve into lively classroom discussions. So, wanting a place to live while she started her college career seemed reasonable enough.
Surely Whitney College wouldn't let a progressively more and more anxious southern Ohio transplant fend for herself on the streets of Boston? She could always spend the night in a hotel, obviously, but it would certainly be preferable to find a more permanent solution. There must be a few students who changed plans at the last minute, freeing up a dorm room, right? Maybe. Well, the burrito restaurant was hiring, so perhaps this was a sign that she should brush up on her Spanish, cultivate an interest in ethnic cooking...
Julie's phone barely got out a full ring before she answered. "Mom?"
"That damn college was no help whatsoever. Apparently every school within a thirty-mile radius is in the same awful housing crunch, and Whitney is stuck putting up students in hotels themselves. I had another idea. Do you remember Erin Watkins?"