Prologue

Jimmy had no destination in mind when he turned onto the quiet residential street. It was late afternoon, the sun hanging low enough to cast long shadows across the sidewalks. He had spent the day walking from one side of town to the other, trying to clear his head after another disappointing week of couch surfing and temporary jobs.

As he passed a two-story house with peeling white paint and flower boxes under the windows, loud voices stopped him in his tracks.

“You can’t keep doing this, Tara!”

“I said I’m sorry already!”

“Sorry doesn’t pay bills!”

Jimmy slowed down near the front hedge. Four women stood on the porch, all talking over each other. Grocery bags sat abandoned near the doorway, one of them tipped over with oranges rolling across the porch boards.

The woman being cornered-Tara, apparently-looked exhausted. Her mascara had smeared beneath her eyes, and she clutched a denim jacket against her chest like a shield. The other three women stood united against her.

Jimmy hadn’t heard the beginning of the fight, but it didn’t take long to piece things together.

Roommates.

And from the sound of it, one of them was being kicked out.

“You disappeared for three days!” shouted a tall blonde woman in yoga pants. “No call, no text, nothing!”

“I was with Kyle!”

“That’s the problem!” another woman snapped.

The third roommate, a short brunette with crossed arms, finally said the thing that made the whole situation unmistakably clear.

“You need to find somewhere else to stay.”

The porch went quiet.

Tara stared at the three of them in disbelief. For a moment Jimmy thought she might scream again, but instead her shoulders sagged. She looked defeated more than angry now.

“Fine,” she muttered. “You know what? Fine.”

She stormed into the house, and a minute later came back carrying two overstuffed duffel bags. One of the straps tore as she dragged it down the steps.

None of the other women moved to help her.

Tara paused at the sidewalk, glaring back at them.

“You’ll regret this.”

Then she marched down the street and disappeared around the corner.

The remaining three women stood in awkward silence.

Jimmy started walking again, intending to move on, but as he passed the front gate, the blonde woman noticed him.

“You heard all that, huh?”

Jimmy gave an apologetic smile. “Hard not to.”

The brunette groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Fantastic. Public humiliation.”

Jimmy shrugged. “I’ve seen worse. That was quite a blowup, though.”

All three women laughed tiredly.

“You have no idea,” said the blonde.

The third roommate-the quietest one so far, a redhead in an oversized sweatshirt-sat down on the porch steps.

“That’s been building for months,” she said.

Jimmy leaned casually against the fence. “Bad roommate?”

“Catastically bad,” said the brunette immediately.

“She never cleaned.”

“She borrowed our clothes.”

“She dated weird guys.”

“She forgot rent twice.”

“And,” the brunette added, “she somehow managed to break our microwave and blamed gravity.”

Jimmy laughed. “That’s impressive.”

The tension started draining from the group. After several minutes of conversation, introductions were exchanged.

The blonde was Melissa. The brunette was Dana. The redhead was Chloe.

Jimmy found himself surprisingly comfortable talking to them. They were funny once they weren’t yelling. Exhausted, but funny.

“So,” Melissa asked eventually, “what about you? You live around here?”

Jimmy hesitated. “Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”