ARIEL

The next forty-eight hours were a total blur of internal conflict. It was like there was a civil war happening right inside my head.

Every time I reached for my phone to text Claire and tell her I was coming down with a sudden, mysterious case of the bubonic plague, I’d stop. I’d look at my bank account—which was currently sitting at a depressing eighty dollars and thirty cents—and then I’d look at the stack of student loan statements sitting on my desk like a mountain of future misery.

I realized, with a heavy sink in my chest, that I couldn't afford to be proud. My pride wouldn't pay...