Free My Lost and Found Life by Melodie Bowsher

very experienced with guys—her romantic nature always got in the way. She’d get a crush on someone for a while, but then go off him pretty fast when he got into a farting contest or got drunk and urinated on the lawn or some other stupid guy trick. I don’t think they can help themselves; guys are just naturally gross. Poor Nicole, she actually believed her soulmate was out there somewhere and she’d find him someday. Till then, she refused to bend her standards or do the deed. For her sake, I hoped she’d find Mr. Perfect. I had no such illusions about the opposite sex.
    Nicole found it hard to believe I’d done “it” just like that.
    “It sounds so cold-blooded,” she protested. “You don’t even love him. Do you?”
    “Don’t be silly. I just wanted to get it out of the way, and you must admit he’s hot. Anyway, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
    “What if he tells someone and it gets around?” Nicole was so sweet, the way she worried about me.
    “So what?” I gave her a sly smile. “I hope it does get around. I hope it gets all the way around to Scott. He missed out and I chose Webb. I hope that annoys the hell out of him.”
    • • •
    Whether Scott ever found out or not, I had no way of knowing. I didn’t see Webb again either. Eventually Tattie let it drop that Webb had a job working construction in the East Bay, and he was going to boot camp in September.
    I had no idea what I would be doing in the fall or even tomorrow. Without my mother, there wasn’t going to be any freshman year at Boston University or anywhere else. Unfortunately, my mother had not reappeared, except in my fitful dreams.
    While I should have looked for a job, I didn’t know how to go about it. If someone had offered me one, I would have taken it. But I just couldn’t walk up to some counter and ask to be hired—what if they turned me down and everyone laughed? I’d die of humiliation.
    Selling clothes to Couture Closet was the main source of my funds, and the pittance I received disappeared fast. It’s a good thing I’m not a big eater and fast food is cheap. Still, I had to buy shampoo, tampons, cat food, and so on. I canceled the cleaning lady and the garden service but just tossed the rest of the bills on the dining room table.
    Then the phone calls started—first, little reminders that our Visa bill or water bill was overdue, and then more strident requests for payment. I let the answering machine get them.
    Police cars still drove past our house, but Strobel and his cohort didn’t bother me anymore. They, too, seemed to be waiting for my mother to return. I couldn’t imagine that she wouldn’t, no matter how angry she was with me or what she had done. I tried to picture her as a fugitive—sunning herself on someMexican beach, sipping margaritas and forgetting all about her bitchy, selfish daughter. But I couldn’t imagine it—that wasn’t my mother. She loved me and she would come back.
    Bad things are supposed to come in threes. My cell phone was number one. Service was shut off for nonpayment. Before I had recovered from that blow, my gas card wouldn’t work at the pump.
    “Look, there must be something wrong with your machine,” I insisted to Reynaldo.
    “Okay,” Reynaldo shrugged. “I’ll go call.” He walked into the office and I could see him talking into the receiver while I waited by the pumps. He hung up and walked over to Phil’s camper, which is always parked behind the station, except when Phil is off on one of his nature trips. He called inside and Phil emerged, carrying what looked like a fishing rod. They talked for a moment and then Reynaldo returned.
    “They won’t accept your card, Ash-lee,” he said. “Phil told me to fill your tank anyway. It’s on him.”
    I nodded stiffly and got back into my car. I knew I should thank Phil, but I was too embarrassed.
    • • •
    Being served, whatever that meant, was the third bad thing. I sat on the sofa a long time,