A week was a long time, and he either figured out I wasn’t worth the trouble, or already found some other girl to rescue in the meantime. Out of all the reasons I could have given him about why I couldn’t jump into being his girlfriend, my fear of hurting my roommate’s feelings seemed incredibly stupid in retrospect. My roommate had been avoiding me, but by the second day of May, I knew it wasn’t because of his pride or a broken heart. Rent was due on the first, and his share hadn’t yet materialized. I got ready for work and left him a sternly-worded note, taped to the microwave, where he’d be sure to see it. He didn’t have to come up with all of that month’s money at once, but I did need something, as a show of good faith. When I got to work at the community center, I passed through the admin office to drop off a soy-milk latte for Gloria. Without any help on my rent, I shouldn’t have been splurging on drinks with whipped cream, but the promise of the sugar fix had been the only thing getting me through the day without crying.
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