Best Kept Promise (Best Kept #2)

Chapter 2: Welcome to The Neighborhood

Song: Crushcrushcrush by Paramore (Also known as the greatest band ever)

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Apartment hunting was a bust.

Bea, my mom, and myself have been all over the area, scouting the good apartments. But like I said, it was a total bust. There was only one apartment that was remotely in our price range and slightly decent. My parents offered to help pay for a better one in a high-end gated community, but I had declined the offer. It's time to start making my way in the world on my own.

Now, I sit outside at a café with Bea to my right and my mom sits in front of me. She's on her phone again.

I sigh and take a drink of my lemonade. "Are there anymore to look at?" I ask my mom.

Her gaze stays on her phone and she answers, "There's a couple more to look at. One's down the road and the other is about fifteen in the other direction."

Bea tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you think one of them will be the right one?"

"Possibly," my mom says. "The last one we're looking at will probably be it."

"Then why don't we just go to that one first?" I question.

She looks at me and grins. "Because you'll be wondering what-if. Might as well just get it out of the way."

I want to laugh, but I stifle it and say, "You know me well, Mother."

She turns her gaze back to her phone. "We'll leave after you finish your drink."

"I can get a cup," I tell her and wave to the waitress.

The waitress comes over and smiles at me. I ask for a cup and she leaves quickly to retrieve it. Once my drink is sealed in the clear plastic cup, my mom pays the bill and we leave.

We walk down the sidewalk by the café and across the street. Bea and I keep a steady pace with my mom. Not only is she wearing heels, but she's also looking at her phone. She manages to swerve in between people without hitting them and all I can think is that it must be a talent.

The apartment building is small and I already know I'm not going to like it, but I follow my mom inside the lobby. The woman sitting at the desk smiles at my mom and hands her a set of keys. They barely say a word to each other before my mom starts walking again.

The apartment she shows us is located on the bottom floor. She opens the door and I walk in first, Bea follows. A light turns on and I take everything in. It's stuffy and it smells like a sweaty locker room. "I could've lived without this what-if," I murmur.

My mom laughs. "Well, better to be safe than sorry. Do you want to look around at least?"

I do. First, the bathroom that's really small. The bedrooms that smell of stale cigarettes and a kitchen so small that there's no oven. How can you live without an oven in the kitchen? "Is this under our budget?" I ask quietly.

Mom nods. "Immensely."

We leave after Bea and I inspect the small apartment. Once we leave, we start our way back to the car that's parked across from the café. Mom drives the whole fifteen miles and we enter a gated apartment complex. Buildings line the streets, palm trees root from the ground, and I even spot a pool behind the main office.

Mom parks and Bea and I trail close behind her. We enter the main office and the smell of coconut invades my senses. I guess they're going for a tropical vibe, but I'm not complaining. If it feels like a beach all the time, I'm all for it.