The Pretend Girlfriend(2)

It was an eviction notice. Apparently, Patterson Holdings had not received a rent check in three months. And, unless Gwen could come up with the $3600 owed in back-rent by the end of the week, in addition to another $173.45 in fees for the bounced checks (it was already Tuesday!) she would have to vacate the unit.

Panicking, Gwen dropped the notice and then tore at the letter.

It was about the same thing, except laying everything out in somewhat more depth.

Gwen's first reaction was thinking she was having a nightmare. She went so far as to squeeze her eyes shut and command herself to awaken. But when she opened her eyes, that partially-crumpled letter still waited in her hands.

Her second reaction was that this was all somehow some big mistake. They'd gotten the wrong unit (even though both the letter and the notice both said Suite 705, her unit). Janice always took care of this stuff right away. Gwen always saw the rent come out of her bank account the next day after giving Janice her check.

She tried giving Janice a call. It went to voicemail. Gwen left a message. Then she texted Janice, just to be sure. Something inside told her that she was never going to hear from Janice again.

At least Janice only took her own stuff. When Gwen realized what had really happened, she rushed frantically through the apartment, checking. All her own stuff still waited in her room. The old TV and entertainment center her aunt gave her when she first went off to school still sat against one wall in the living room. The small breakfast table with its two mismatched chairs still waited in one corner of the cramped kitchen.

Gwen pulled one of those chairs out and sat down. Her wet clothes hugged her skin, but she barely noticed.

She always hated it in movies and TV when characters sat around telling themselves "This can't be happening!" and not doing anything about their problem.

But she really couldn't think of anything. The pittance she earned from manning the desk at the campus library a few days each week barely paid her half of the rent, groceries, cell bill, that sort of thing.

Where am I going to get almost $4000?

It wasn't like she had anything worth selling. No one would want the old TV; it weighed almost as much as she did. Her laptop might get her a couple hundred bucks. She could take on every shift at the library anybody offered. Even so, it would take her months to save up that much. And they wanted the money in three days!

Gwen found the rental agreement from the files she kept by her desk in her room. People are reasonable, she figured, if I just explain the situation to them, we can work something out.

The phone rang once before a deep-voiced woman answered, "Patterson Holdings, how may I direct your call?"

"Hi, I live at your building on Maple, unit 705. I need to talk to someone about late rent."

The secretary put her through to gravelly-voiced guy named Gabe. Gwen associated voices like that with those new Batman movies, and so her mind supplied her with the ridiculous picture of Batman sat at a desk in a boring office, licking his finger to flip through some paperwork as he squinted beneath the fluorescent lights.

Gwen explained the situation as best she could, feeling proud of herself that she managed to keep so much of the panic burbling in her stomach out of her voice.

"Look, Ms. Browning... Gwen, can I call you Gwen? Good. Anyway, look, you're already three months behind. Patterson Holdings knows that sometimes people have difficulties, and we do give a grace period. However, you've already used your grace period up. This was all outlined in the letters we've been sending..."

"Letters? What letters?" Gwen said. The panic swirling in her stomach mixed with cold apprehension.

"We normally begin sending out letters reminding you of your obligation one week after failure to pay your rent... Yeah, it says right here that we've given you twelve letters over the last three months," Gabe said, his fingers tapping softly at a keyboard in the background.

"Janice..." Gwen said. She always got the mail. Insisted on it, even. And no wonder, Gwen knew, she'd been stealing the rent for the last three months and covering her tracks.

Gwen bit back a few choice words doing their best to push their way out through her lips. The way she felt, nothing she could say had any chance of truly expressing her feelings at that moment. Betrayal, rage, frustration, terror. Those came close, but still missed the mark.

"So what am I supposed to do?" Gwen said, addressing the question to both the ceiling and to Gabe.

Gabe answered first. "I'm sorry, really, I am. I'd get in touch with the police as soon as possible. They'll start searching for your roommate. Who knows, maybe she'll even still have your money if they find her in time."

"In time for what?" Gwen said, the twisting in her stomach telling her she already knew the answer.