Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned #3)(10)
Author: Belle Aurora

I need a little me time.

As I said goodbye to my parents and held them tight, trying to memorize their smells, I was shocked to find I wasn’t even sad about leaving. I would’ve thought I’d have shed a tear or two, but no. After my parents, I stood in front of Nina. She placed her hands in her pockets and looked down at the floor, avoiding my eyes. Nina is never emotional.

Never.

Not. Ever.

It should’ve had me worried, but it might make me a shitty sister to say it made me happy. I think I melted the ice queen. She cleared her throat. “You got everything you need?”

I patted my hand luggage. “Everything. I’m all good.”

She peeked up at me. “You’re coming home for Christmas, right?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, but then I thought about it. I shrugged lightly. “If I get time off, definitely.”

This answer did not placate her. At all. She scowled. “You better come visit.”

I glared right back. “Why don’t you come visit me?”

She made a face. “Because I have a salon to run and it would be easier for you to visit us here.”

I placed a hand on my hip. Oh yeah, she knew she just threw down. “Well, you have two sisters in New York now. Get off your fat ass and come vacay with us sometime.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Why should I? You’re the assholes who left!”

I continued to glare while she scowled. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

We stood there another minute or so before I caved. I’d miss my sister. I love my sister. Even if she is a total fucknut.

With a sigh and roll of my eyes, I rushed over to her and wrapped her in a tight hug. The bitch didn’t hug me back for a full minute, but then her hands gently gripped the back of my jacket and she pushed her head into my shoulder. I felt wetness there. I kissed her cheek and whispered, “I’ll come home for Christmas.”

She sniffled and choked out, “And I’ll come visit. I promise.”

We held each other tight until an overhead announcement aired. My flight was now boarding. I waved goodbye to my forlorn family and boarded a flight to my new life.

Nat told me she’d left a key with the little old lady in apartment 309, the apartment across from mine. As soon as I landed, I gathered my suitcases and caught a cab over to the apartment complex. When it came into view, I broke out into a huge smile as butterflies flew around in my stomach, a mixture of nervousness and excitement flowing through me.

The cab driver is sweet enough to help me with my suitcases. We walk them up the stairs to my apartment on the first floor, I pay him, and then I knock on apartment 309. Not a second passes before it opens with a jarring bang as the security chain stops it from extending all the way. I jump and hold a hand up to my heaving chest. She scared the crap out of me.

A wrinkly face appears in the gap, covered by thick coke-bottle glasses. I force a smile. “Hello. I’m Helena Kovac. My sister Natalie told me she left a key with you for me.”

The tiny woman’s face wrinkles in confusion. She yells, “What?”

I blink.

Are you fucking kidding me, Nat?

I clear my throat and speak louder. “My sister Natalie says you have a key for me.” But the lady just blinks. I dip my chin to stop myself from laughing. After I get myself under control, I lift my face and smile. I point to my own ear and say, “Can you hear me?”

But the woman just frowns at me. “You’ll have to speak up. My hearin’ isn’t what it used to be.”

I nod sympathetically and near-shout, “My sister Natalie says you have a key for me. I’m Helena.”

The woman scowls. “No need to holler, young lady. I hear just fine, thank you very much.”

What the fucktruck?

She heads inside and locks the door. I wait patiently, but nothing happens.

She’s abandoned me.

I knock again. The door opens and the little old lady looks up at me through her glasses expectantly. I’m not sure what’s happening here, so I go on and just stare back. When she attempts to close the door in my face, I quickly say, “I need the key Natalie left you to get into my new apartment.”

The woman blinks. “You’ll have to speak up. My hearin’ isn’t what it used to be.”

Oh, for the love of cake.

I dip my chin and my body shakes in silent laughter. New York, I like you already. I lift my face and ask slowly, clearly, and loudly, “Do you know Natalie in 306?” I point at Nat’s apartment door to help her along.

The woman looks over at Nat’s apartment, then back up at me. “She’s not home. She works.”

I explain again, “I’m her sister. I just came from California.” I point to my suitcases next to me. “I need the key to my apartment.” I point to my new apartment before making a key-unlocking-a-door motion.

The little old lady’s face beams in recognition. She smiles. “You’re the sister!”

I beam right back at her. “I’m the sister!”

She laughs. “You need the key.”

I chuckle and confirm, “Yes! I need the key! The key, please.”

She nods and steps back into her apartment. “Just a second, sweetie.”

She closes the door and I sigh in relief. I wait. And wait. And wait some more.

Nothing.

I knock once more. Maybe she needs help finding the key. The door opens, and the little old lady looks up at me through her glasses like she’s seeing me for the first time.

Part of me wants to laugh, but another part of me wants to knock her over the head with something so I can find the damn key myself. I smile sweetly. “Do you have the key yet? I really need to get inside.”

The woman blinks. “You’ll have to speak up. My hearin’ isn’t what it used to be.”

I run a hand down my face.

Oy vey.

***

It takes me a whole forty-five minutes to get Mrs. Crandle to give me the fracking key. Turns out she’s not only hard of hearing and forgetful, but she has a thousand cats, all of which she wanted to introduce me to. By name.

She made me promise to come drink tea with her sometime, and I promised I would.

As I put the key into the lock and open the door, I laugh in relief. Relief that this is actually the key and I won’t have to word battle Mrs. Crandle again. I open the door and shuffle my suitcases inside. Pulling the door closed, I look around. My boxes are stacked nice and neatly by the right-hand wall.

A sudden thought comes to mind. You could pack your entire life into eight boxes?