Page 58 of Salto

CHAPTER 22

My mom didn’t even need to take off work to help me move. Everything I owned fit in my car, and I could move it all in a single trip.

She offered to come get me settled once I arrived, but I told her no. I already felt guilty enough that she was pitching in for the gym tuition.

Instead, Jenny agreed to follow me in her own car and help me get settled. Since the apartment came furnished with almost everything I needed, there wasn't much to do. I hung my clothes in the closet, set my meager four boxes of belongings on the floor, put a few kitchen items in drawers, and that was it.

Pretty anticlimactic.

“This is a great place,” Jenny said, taking in the little loft with the dainty kitchenette, the single bedroom, and the tiny bathroom.

There was a washer and dryer, but it was outside.

Yes, outside.

To get to it, I had to go out on the balcony, and there were double doors out there that opened to a stackable washer and dryer.

The balcony wasn’t very big either; I could maybe fit a lawn chair and a tiny plant on it if I were strategic.

But still.

I had a balcony and a place to do laundry, so I’d take that as a win.

It overlooked the ocean, and there was a narrow walking path that wound straight down to the beach.

When I'd called and mentioned Rove's name, the landlord hadn't seemed surprised. He quoted six hundred dollars, emailed me the lease, and that was it. At that price, I wasn't about to ask questions.

The place was adorably strange.

To get to it, I had to climb nearly seven flights of stairs because it sat at the very top of the building. Apparently, most of the complex had been renovated over the years, but this little section had somehow been forgotten.

The ceilings sloped in odd places. There were strange alcoves that served no obvious purpose.

There wasn't even a normal window in the bedroom, but rather what looked like a porthole in the ceiling. It was right above the bed, where a fan probably should've been, but instead there was a little round window with a hatch.

It was quirky.

But it was perfect for me.

“Right? I can’t believe I was able to rent it.” We both squished ourselves onto the balcony, shoulder to shoulder, leaning over to get a look at the ocean and suck in a lungful of salty air.

“I’m gonna miss you, Scar. I have to admit,” Jenny said, looking over at me.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” I said with a sigh.

“We’ll stay in touch.”

“Will we really? With you going off to medical school somewhere?”

“Scar.” Jenny reached over and squeezed my arm. “We'll figure out a way to see each other. We can FaceTime and text. You're stuck with me for life, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, suddenly feeling emotional. I hadn't expected my roommate to become one of my closest friends over the last few years. Now I'd be living alone.

The thought was a little scary.

“I brought you something,” she said, a goofy smile spreading across her face. She took my hand and pulled me into the kitchen.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a gallon-sized Ziplock bag filled with her famous Rice Krispie treats.