The dentist’s quote for the surgery was between two and four thousand dollars. It wasn’t going to sink me. But it was going to be really fucking annoying.
My credit cards were maxed out from my oldest sister Mia’s bachelorette party six months earlier, and after rent and utilities, the eight hundred dollars left of my monthly income went to food, happy hours, and the minimum fifty-dollar payment toward my fifty-three thousand dollars in student loans. Probably . . . three, four months?” “Months?” My mouth gave a throb of protest. To pick your niche, build your audience, figure out an engagement strategy.
Oh, and make the content. Maybe more?” I definitely didn’t have the time or energy for that. I’ve switched my research focus to sugar-daddy sites.” I heard another voice in the background, calling her name.
It’s chaos.” The line went dead. The second thing I tried was calling my mother. Lucky for her, she didn’t need to know in order to decline my request.
And that was when I remembered something Phoebe had told me at Christmas. I was always next to her at holidays because my mother made us sit by birth order, even though we told her it was weird and sister-wifey. Phoebe was the sister I was closest to growing up, until she left for college and my sister Elise filled the role.
It wasn’t until recently, when Phoebe moved to the city, that we’d regained our footing. I had been tuning Phoebe out, primarily focused on stopping the gravy from breaching the mashed potato wall on my plate, when I heard her say, “So yeah. If you’re ever interested in some fast cash, I can hook you up.” “At the blood bank,” she said, dumping salt onto a piece of Honey Baked Ham.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
