I pull my phone out and scroll back through the email. Maybe if I call the company they’ll set me straight. But as I search the email, then the website, I notice there is no phone number. The only information I can find is an email address. This strikes me as odd and dread prickles across my skin as I send off an email. Because—shit. I hope Dave wasn’t right.
I open my browser and search for the company name along with the word “scam.” And my heart plummets as I read the screen. There it is, in black and white. There is no Wilson apartment block; it’s a scam that has seen dozens of people lose thousands of dollars. I have to read it three times for it to sink in. I’ve been conned.
Fuck.
I drop my phone onto the table with a thud. How could I have been so stupid? Why on earth did I think this was a good thing to do blind drunk? Not only am I out thousands of dollars, I also have nowhere to live. I’ve been in New York for less than two hours and I’m homeless.
Tears prick my eyes before I can stop them, and I raise a trembling hand to hide my face.
Of course I don’t fucking belong here. What the hell was I thinking? My parents were right—it was a fantasy, and it’s only taken a couple of hours for the whole thing to come crashing down.
My phone buzzes on the table next to me and I reach for it with a sniffle. It’s a text from Emily, asking if my plane has landed. Seeing her name flash up on my phone sends homesickness rushing through me. I’d give anything to be back in my flat, on the sofa in front of the TV with Travis’s arm around me. I push the image from my head and press Emily’s name in my contacts list.
“Hey hon!” she sing-songs on the other end of the line. “How’s it going?”
God, I love Em. We met when we were seven years old and a teacher put us in the same reading group. We’ve been besties ever since.
“Not great. I, er, don’t have anywhere to live.”
“What? What about your apartment?”
“It doesn’t exist.” I lower my voice as a couple at a nearby table give me an odd look. “It was a scam.”
“Oh my God. Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Shit.” She sounds distant over the line and it feels like I’m on another planet. “Alright, don’t panic. We’ll figure something out. Have you—”
“I should never have come here,” I blurt, my voice catching in my throat. “It’s a mess. I think I should just try and come home.” As I say it, a weight settles on my heart. There’s nothing I want back there, and my parents are only going to make me feel a million times worse. But what other option do I have?
“Oh, hon,” Emily says. “It’s okay. Don’t come home.”
“You don’t think coming here was totally crazy?”
“No! Well, okay, it was a bit crazy, but in a good way. Your life needed some crazy. I know it isn’t quite going according to plan right now, but you can figure this out. It’s all part of the adventure! I think this is absolutely the right thing for you.”
I sniffle.
“Hey!” she says brightly. “Let me call my friend, Cat. I’m sure she can help you.”
“Cat?”
“Yeah, remember the friend I told you about in New York? I met her a few years ago when I went to that yoga course.”
“Right,” I murmur
“She’s great. I’ll call her right now.” Emily’s voice softens. “You’ll be fine, honey. Don’t worry. You’ve made it all the way over there. I’m not letting you come back yet.”
I hang up and inhale slowly, taking a moment to compose myself. My fingers go up to touch the book charm necklace from my parents as Emily’s words replay in my mind: this is absolutely the right thing for you. I repeat them over and over like a mantra, until my phone buzzes again.
Emily: Cat says you can stay at her place tonight. Where are you right now? She’ll come meet you.
Oh, thank God.
I’m limp with relief as I text her the address. At least I won’t be forced to sleep under a bridge tonight.
Setting the phone down again, I glance up, letting my gaze drift out the window to take in my surroundings for the first time. I can’t believe I’m finally here, in New York. If only I wasn’t homeless.
My gut clenches again—at the money I’ve lost, at the thought of somehow trying to find a place to live, at the realization that now I’m going to have to find a job ASAP when I’m not even sure if I can, given I don’t have a working visa. When I had the apartment sorted—or thought I did—it gave me some time to settle in and formulate a plan. And now? Shit.
But I’ve got a bed for tonight, I remind myself, trying to stay positive. I push my chair back and stand to order a coffee, determined to distract myself until Cat arrives.
Dave looks up hopefully when I approach the counter. “Any luck?”
I shake my head, giving him a grim smile. How humiliating. He must think I’m some idiot tourist who falls for this kind of thing all the time. This is not the sophisticated world traveler image I was going for. Though let’s face it, nothing about me is sophisticated—and now that I’m here in the city, that is painfully clear.
I mumble my coffee order and rifle through my bag, knocking my EpiPen to the ground. I hastily scoop it up
