Page 87 of You'll Love it Here

Jane huffs. “So, we’re fucked.”

And Sami puts a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. “Yeah, it means you all can’t go back in for a while longer now.”

The fire marshal continues. “While we complete the investigation and clear the structural integrity, this building must be deemed uninhabitable.”

A groan sweeps through our crowd in unison, like we’re all one single disappointed beast.

“But my tenants, where are they supposed to sleep?” Irene demands from her little chair with her tiny little dog curled in her lap. “They can’t all stay with my niece through marriage.”

“Yeah, I have, like... nowhere to go,” Jane calls. Worry lines seep into her brows.

Another firefighter comes toward the crowd. A short-haired brunette woman. “There are a few options we can provide—and our teams can help facilitate hotel bookings. It’s important to know if you have a renters insurance policy.”

“What about insurance for my work I’ll be missing out on,” Carmen calls.

“And I have nothing to wear to work. I’ll be fired if I wear this every day.” Jane looks down at her bright floral jumpsuit.

“My work computer is in there,” Norm mumbles.

“I have an extra room,” Sami calls, but his jaw ticks and he carefully faces away from me. “I’m sure I could fit two of you if someone is willing to couch surf. Right, Dad?”

Abu nods. “Of course. We have to stick together, friends.”

I make my way to the group, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I call out, “Hey, guys.”

The sea of concerned faces once again turn to anger as they lock eyes with me.

“I’m so sorry this is happening. Norm, if you want, I can help pick up a new laptop from our office.” The group is silent, avoiding direct eye contact. Like I’m a ghost. “Jane, I have some extra clothes at my office—”

“That’s okay,” she interrupts. “We’re good.”

“Yeah, no worries. I’ll figure it out,” Norm mumbles. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and angles away from me.

Wetness pools in my eyes. “Guys, I know things are weird and everything, but I really do care about you.” The whine in my voice crumbles through my words. “I want to help.”

Carmen’s voice cuts through the crowd. “Mona, I think we’ve had enough of yourhelpto last us a little while.”

He practically radiates frost, every inch of him steeped in disdain.

A shiver crawls up my neck as their pain sinks into me, quiet and undeniable.

Shame is an old friend to me by now. Still, the cold burn of it feels fresh as I start to back away.

I turn my back on the smoking building, on my friends, on the place where I finally felt at home. Leave it all behind.

Once I’m far enough down the block that I’m out of sight, I pull out my phone. I only have one place left to go.

Classic Post-Fire Malaise

It was the worst of times: four days after the fire; after I biffed everything good in my life.

I’m holed up in what would be considered my old bedroom, although the only thing recognizable about it from my tenure here is the pink carpet filled with old snags that seem to press into me when I walk the ground, cruel in their unpredictability, and the single bed with the terrible mattress.

Since I’ve left, this room has become stuffed with dusty exercise equipment, a box of my mom’s weird-ass wigs that she thinks are “fancy” for some reason (even though every occasion she wears them, someone is deeply unsettled), some holiday decorations, and a whole-ass porcelain sink from when my mom had the basement salon working.

The clutter doesn’t matter, since I’ve been spending most of my time in bed looking at my phone. Alice sits on the late ’90s bedside table. After I called my mom to ask if I could stay awhile, I did in fact remember Alice existed and asked a firefighter to rescue her. She loved the fanfare of being carried out in a burly firefighter’s arms, so we’ve agreed not to talk about the moment when I forgot about her.

When I first returned to this home that holds so many of my old wounds, I drafted several texts to Jane and Sami but deleted them all before hitting send. Now, I’ve unfortunately found myway to some earwax removal TikToks and it’s been sucking up a good part of my waking hours.