All She Can Take

N I N E T E E N

*Trigger warning: This chapter contains themes of suicide. Please take care while reading.*

 The ride home was quiet and seemed to go on forever. Tomi drove and listened to Kendrick Lamar on low as they rolled out of the towering condo buildings of Downtown and into the looming project complexes deep in Fort Greene. Tomi drove with one foot tucked beneath her and the other controlling the brake and gas. Sidney hated when she drove like that and usually she would say something. But not this time. This is precisely why she hated receiving help from people. She felt like she was indebted to them. Like she couldn't be impolite and say what she really thought. Tomi helped her, and until she repaid her she had to make her feel comfortable and appreciated at all times. How messed up would it if she repaid her best friend for the money sitting in her purse by criticizing her driving?

Tomi pulled up in front of Sid's building and started to get out. Sid piped up and stopped her.

"I got it. Thank you."

"Are you sure? I can come up." She rested a hand on Sid's arm.

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

"Well, here. Take this." Tomi reached into the back seat of the car and pulled out a jean jacket. The temperature had dropped drastically since the morning and Sid's little sleeveless peplum top was doing nothing for her at the moment. She fixed the jacket over her shoulders.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. And Sid?" Tomi said, her eyes furrowed in worry.

"Yeah?"

"Look both ways before crossing the street. I mean, seriously."

"Screw you."

"Love ya."

"Love you too." Sid slammed the car door on purpose before hobbling up the walkway and into her building.

In the lobby, she pressed for the elevator and the light on the button came on which let her know that, by the grace of God, they were working. She just wished they hurried up. The thought crossed her mind that she did not want Phil, or anyone for that matter, to see her like this. She frowned at the thought. Who gave a damn how he saw her? The elevator rattled to a stop and the door opened in front of her.

"Disgusting." She said as she navigated her crutches around the puddle of urine that sat in the middle of the elevator. This was the phenomenon that annoyed Sid the most. Who was peeing in the damn elevators? When it's time to pee, every individual had two obvious choices. Find a toilet or go outside. In what universe, is peeing in an elevator ever a damn option? She held her breath. Breathing in someone else's bodily fluids made her feel like she was becoming septic by the moment. When the elevator stopped on her floor, the door had barely opened before she was out and rushing into breathable air.

Sid hoisted her purse back on her shoulder for the millionth time and steadied herself on the crutches. Her door was a few short feet away. Sid eyed her front door down the hall and her heart sank. Sid had received several notices in her life. She knew that as long as the papers and envelopes came on stock white paper she was fine. White paper meant that whoever she owed was just giving her a gentle reminder. Hey, remember that cable TV you watch? Yeah, you owe us a little bit for that. White papers meant time. However, when those papers began to reflect the colors of the rainbow, things were serious. Pink, blue and red notices meant that the time for reminders was over. Colored notices, like the tangerine-colored one on her door meant that her time was up.

The pain in her ankle was subdued temporarily by a rush of embarrassment and adrenaline. She snatched the notice off her door, quickly unlocked it, and slid inside to read her fate in private. She turned on a lamp in the living room and eased down on the couch. It was a notice to vacate. She had three days to pay the balance of the rent or leave the apartment. She hated this apartment. Really despised how they shut off the water randomly and without reason. Hated how roaches seemed to emerge from crevices that she didn't even know existed and would not cease no matter how much extermination she did. Hated how tiny and cramped it was, and that the only space AJ had to play was in a small square of space on the living room carpet. But the thought of no longer having it wrung her dry. The indignity of being homeless surrounded her even though it wasn't a reality yet.