Ford Escort

1 - Face in the Shag

The decision was made - I was ready to move back to Sacramento. It was only October and I was barely holding a C average. My designated desk, in my pocket-sized dorm room had become chronically buried under a pile of textbooks, past-due reading assignments, notebooks and organizers. My bed was piled high with a mountain of dirty sweatpants and mismatched socks. I was too exhausted to push them to the floor, so instead I curled up on the hideous, brown shag carpet and stared at the wall contemplating my life choices.

I had done okay in high school. With a sizable group of close friends, acceptable grades and teachers who had all adored me. I was no valedictorian, but flush with extracurriculars I had been accepted to nearly every college I applied to, some of them even offering scholarships.

My pick, of course, was the one farthest from my West Coast hometown - the University of Southern Maine. In an attempt to find my independence I had brashly put over 3,000 miles between myself and my doting parents, much to their disappointment.

Now, only two months later, I was already regretting everything. My scholarship covered my tuition and my dorm, but I had to work part-time to cover the rest of my living costs. I'd flown to Maine, so my car was back in Sacramento, leaving me to walk everywhere or shell out cash for an Uber. I'd made no friends, and worst of all - I had completely lost interest in my practical-yet-boring Business Administration degree.

I dragged myself up off the floor to pace the room as I considered my plan. I could take a gap year, find my independence a little closer to home, and experience adult life without the constant stress and anxiety of schoolwork looming over me. The logistics were a little more complex - there was no way I was going back to living with my parents. Even in a shared dorm room I had the freedom to come and go as I pleased, for the first time since birth I was in charge of myself and I was not giving that up.

I would need to save up enough for the plane ride home, a few months rent in Sacramento to give me time to find a job, and a little extra for other various necessities. My growing enthusiasm met a sudden demise as I realized that would mean saving up thousands of dollars, and my part-time retail job wasn't going to cut it. I had a grand total of $456 in my savings account, and a whole $20 in cash. Based on my rushed calculations I would need over three-thousand before I could get out of Maine.

I plopped back onto the floor, anxiously fishing my phone from the pocket of my sweatpants and searching "ways to make money fast". Of course, the search results were mostly ads for MLMs and lengthy, convoluted blog posts that held no valuable suggestions. I slumped over, face in the shag carpet, and tried not to cry.

My roommate Ava found me that way sometime later. The two of us hadn't formed much of a friendship, she was a Maine native with a group of lifelong friends that she was constantly out with, but she seemed nice enough. She joined me on the floor, sitting cross-legged next to my head, and offered me a blueberry Poptart.

"What's wrong?"

I realized I must look like hell - my unwashed hair tangled into a bun on top of my head, wearing the same pair of sweats and flannel shirt I had been in for multiple days now. That, and I was in the fetal position on our floor, snarfing down her Poptart like a starved orphan.

"I'm dropping out, but I can't afford to go home." I told her through with a moutfull of pastry, knowing we hadn't bonded enough for her to try to convince me to stay.

"Oh shit." She frowned, "How much do you need?"

"Like another $2,500." I groaned, sitting up and leaning up against my bed. She nodded, considering my predicament with a thoughtful frown.

"You could try Money-Do." I raised a brow and met her eyes, "It's like an odd-job outsourcing kind of app. People post random things that they are willing to pay someone else for - like painting a fence or picking up groceries. Anyone can accept them, assuming you don't have a criminal record."