"Well, this is obviously the apartment I was meant to have. No wonder the one in Jamaica Plain didn't work out. It was a sign from God that I needed to find this gem. The cockroaches are a nice bonus. I've always wanted to live with animals. And I can make extra money working as a hooker. Those girls outside looked really friendly, and I'm sure they'd take me under their wing and teach me the tricks of the trade. Pardon the pun."
Matt stepped soundly on a particularly beefy cockroach. "Odds are, their pimp would be highly interested in obtaining the services of a nice Midwestern girl. Boston men are forever complaining about the same old, same old with East Coast prostitutes."
The realtor growled and tugged on his sagging pants. "Look, you two, this is the eighth goddamn place I've showed you. This is what you get in your price range, missy. Take it or leave it."
"She'll need to see another goddamn place, then, because the roaches have union ized and put a stop to further negotiations regarding new tenants. Also, I think I smell a dead body."
The realtor threw his hands up in Julie's direction. "Sweetheart, with what you're willing to pay, you'd be better off squeezing in with five roommates in a one-bedroom. And I don't have those kinds of listings. Check Craigslist."
Julie squinted her eyes. "Sweetheart will not be using Craigslist. Sweetheart will not be living here. Sweetheart will likely collapse in despair and move back to Ohio, where she will wait tables at Dirk's Drink Dive and give up on her dream of attending at least one college class before the turn of the century."
She briefly considered the option of calling her father to bail her out of this hell. That was if she could even reach him. Forget it. Way too embarrassing. Sh e was paying for college with money from her mother and student loans, and she could surely figure out this situation without humiliating herself in front of her father. She wiped her forehead. God, it was stuffy and rank in here, and she could feel the sweat practically streaming down her back. Who knew Boston was so humid? Well, Bostonians probably.
Julie knew that she had better get out of this building before she further insulted this jackass. She'd already been rude enough, but she couldn't be held responsible for what came out of her mouth right now. Poor Matt had trekked around various Boston neighborhoods with her to look at one uninhabitable place after another. After four hours of searching, she was no closer to finding a place to live than she was when they'd started. And now here she was mouthing off and acting like a total lunatic.
She took a deep breath. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to," she started slowly, hoping that by speaking positively a brilliant idea would come to her and let her complete the sentence. "I am going to consider the many simple solutions to my housing crisis and deduce what the best strategy will be." She paused. "And I choose to wander around and... and look for fliers from people seeking roommates. Yes. That is the plan."
Matt looked doubtful. "If that's what you want, sure. Let's go back into Harvard Square. It's probably your best bet. And less corpse-y."
"Corpse-y? Really? Is that an MIT word?"
"You bet. Let's get out of here."
Julie followed Matt out of the apartment and walked silently next to him for ten minutes, as he led them to the nearest T stop. "Where are we again? I'm totally confused."
"Just outside Davis Square. It's mostly a nice area, but like anyplace, it has its not-so-good parts."
"I appreciate your help. I really do. This is all my fault, and you shouldn't have to give up your day to visit every hellhole in a ten-mile radius." Julie was exhausted and dejected. She was beginning to realize that with the amount of money she had for monthly rent, finding reasonable accommodations was going to be next to impossible.
Matt held the door to the T station open for her. Julie thought that it seemed awfully crowded for a weekday afternoon, and the top landing by the stairs was mobbed with people talking on cell phones, bumping into her, and blocking her view. The heat from the swarm of commuters added to her increasing exhaustion and discomfort. She stepped up closer to Matt so she wouldn't lose him and followed him onto the staircase. Or what she thought was the staircase.
And then her heart started to pound. "Wait, no! No! No escalators. Matt, I don't do escalators." Julie tried to step off, but she was too late, now feeling as though she were plunging straight down, unsecured and helpless. She glanced at the bottom of the landing, aware of the hideously steep incline and the slow pace of the escalator. Dizzy and overwhelmingly anxious, Julie could see shapes begin to blur and felt her knees tremble as the vertigo took over.
"Julie? Julie?" She was aware of Matt's voice, but it sounded foggy and unnatural. She could make out his green T-shirt as he turned toward her, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her in as she started to drop. "I got you," he said. "I won't let you fall. Just hold on." He held her tightly against his chest, and she briefly wondered if he was wearing Axe body spray.
"Boooo," she murmured.
"What did you say? Are you OK? Just hold on for another minute."
And then suddenly they were off the horrible escalator, Julie still awkwardly slumped in his arms while people swarmed around them.
"Oh. Sorry." Alert enough to know that she didn't want to faint in a T station, she pulled back a bit, trying to steady herself against Matt as she forced her legs to work. He was surprisingly strong for someone who likely spent most of his day hunched over a scientific calculator. Slowly the world came into focus again, and she found herself staring at his shirt that enthusiastically announced, FTW!For. The. Win, she mouthed and shut her eyes in dismay.
She felt drunk, the way she had after those three shots of putrid peppermint schnapps at the prom. She wasn't a big drinker (as evidenced that night when she hurled up Chicken Divan in the ladies' room at the Hotel Carnegie), and she didn't care for the similar feeling she had now.