Indigo Blues

by Danielle Joseph

  I meet up with Hannah for dinner. She insists we eat in the Village at Bali Cafe. I've never heard of it before, but she said I won't be sorry. Hope the eats are good, because I'm starving.

  She's sitting at a window table when I arrive, gabbing on her glittery pink cell. She motions for me to sit down. There's a basket of bread on the table, so I take a piece and dip it into the oil. I look around at the wicker furniture and hanging paper lanterns. This place is so white. I wonder how they keep it so clean.

  "I'll be off in a sec," Hannah mouths.

  "Okay." I nod. She's decked out in a body-hugging turquoise dress. Not that I'm complaining. I glance down at my white button down. I'm as white as the restaurant linen. I check out the other customers-Hannah definitely stands out. The couple at the table next to us is sporting the cowboy look in flannel button-downs and jeans. They have to be tourists.

  I peruse the menu until Hannah ends her call. "The curry chicken is really good if you like spicy food."

  "I do. I was thinking of ordering it. You too?"

  "No, I'm getting a salad. I have an audition in four days. Need to drop five pounds." She pats her stomach.

  I have a career make-or-break interview in three days, but I don't tell her or she'd want to tag along. Something tells me I need to go to this thing solo, especially since the topic is twisted loves. Now, if they were doing a show on love triangles, Hannah could dive right in. And before the show was over I'm sure there'd be at least one black eye.

  "So what kind of food is this, exactly?" I ask after the waiter takes our orders.

  "Midwest Indian fusion."

  "Ah, that would explain the sides of corn bread and mashed potatoes on the menu and the couple next to us."

  Hannah eyes the cowboys. "I don't know why no one's coming up to us."

  "You need the waiter to come back?" I try flagging him down.

  "No, I'm talking about the customers. This place is known for star gazing."

  "Well, I don't see any stars here." I laugh.

  "You're a star in the making." Hannah fluffs back her hair.

  I've got a good name for you, star catcher. "If I can make music and stay under the radar, I'll be fine with that." I lean back in the chair and cross my legs. It's nice to be able to sit at a restaurant and not worry if someone is going to snap a pic of me with spaghetti sauce on my face or spinach in my teeth.

  "You don't want to be famous?" She jerks her head back, making her eyes bug out. I might as well have told her I'm gay, given the look of shock on her face.

  "Not particularly." I hand the busboy my glass for a refill of water. "Do you?"

  "Ah, yeah."

  I never thought about how Indigo must feel about her sudden fame. Even if it's on a small scale just around town, I think it's the staring that gets to you. It's going to be so weird seeing her for the first time in five months on the set of a TV show. Maybe we should get together before. Or maybe not. Indigo probably doesn't want to see me at all. I bet she's just coming to the city to meet with Sabian and then she'll head right back home. She'll probably even blow right out of the studio after the interview and never look back.

  "Well, not me," I say to Hannah. "If making music ever stops being fun, I'm out."

  Hannah frowns. "I'll be right back. I need to freshen up." She grabs her purse and heads for the restroom, checking out the people on the way no doubt.

  I'm on my third piece of bread when my phone beeps. I pull it out of my pocket. It's a text from Indigo.

  Onboard for sabian. u?

  I think about writing on a hot date with a star catcher, but I'm so over being mad at her.

  Yup. should be interesting.

  I look up. Hannah's making like the hallway from the bathroom is her catwalk. Her mega-heels make a clicking sound against the wood floor as she slowly walks toward me.

  I quickly type: Eli is something else!

  So tru0.

  I guess mad people don't use happy faces, so at least she won't be out for blood on the show. I think.

  Hannah sits back down. "Turns out we're here on the wrong night. Most celebs dine at Bali early in the week."

  Makes perfect sense. When the star catchers are not there. The waiter brings the food to the table and I dig right in. "Chicken's good."

  "Mmm, yes." Hannah slowly chews her lettuce. "Are we still on for the party on Saturday night?"

  "Yeah, I'm in. You say the host is a friend of yours?"

  "I met him at school. He's a grad student, comes from a lot of money. He's throwing himself this birthday bash, at his place in Soho. He promises it'll be a party to remember."

  "Guy knows how to party!" I chug down my water-this stuff is spicy. "Will there be any celebrities at the party?"

  "Are you making fun of me?" Hannah pouts.

  "Never."

  at, I can't believe we're actually here!" I grab my bag from the top rack of the Peter Pan bus. This week passed like dial-up Internet as we waited for Saturday to roll around, and we caught the seven a.m. this morning to make sure we had plenty of time to hang out in the city. We would've left last night, but Cat's parents were against us arriving in the dark. I was so grateful that they let her come with me that neither of us argued. The only thing my parents were concerned about was that I don't show up in wrinkled clothing for my national debut. Personally, I'm just glad that Eli wasn't able to make it. He had already committed to filming a safety video for our local Ace Hardware.

  "Yes, this is so cool. New York, watch out, we are ready to rock!" Cat screams. And surprisingly, no one gives her a second glance. They're all too busy trying to get to their destinations.

  We shuttle out of the bus terminal and hail a cab to Jane's house in Brooklyn. If it wasn't for Cat I'd be totally lost. I've been to New York a few times with my parents and once on a school art trip, but I never really paid attention to how the streets worked or where I was going. The place is so huge-unlike Caulder, which is basically like living in a snow globe. I'm not sure if I'm ready to see Adam again, especially in a TV studio, so being separated in a city of millions is fine with me. The whole thing makes me queasy. I'm just going to focus on shopping and hanging out at Pirate's Booty, the restaurant where Jane works. When I go to college, I want to get a job at a restaurant with an equally cool name. It won't be easy to top Rock Candy, though.

  The cab driver slams on his brakes. "Okay, this is Mayfair." I look up at the gray building. It's the same as the one next to it. Not exactly how I pictured New York living, but then I guess Jane is a grad student, not a hotel heiress.

  We ring the buzzer to Apartment 42 and the door unlocks, but we're too slow to catch it and have to buzz again. We quickly open the door and head straight for the elevator. While we're waiting for it, Jane comes charging down the stairs. "I thought you guys got lost." She gives Cat a huge hug. Then me.

  "We must seem like such tourists." I laugh.

  "Nah. It takes a while to get used to the city." She hits the button for the elevator again and of course it pops open. We file in. "So are you guys ready to have some fun?"

  "Yes!" we both say.

  "Cool. I'm not working tonight until five. Let's drop your stuff off, and we can go out for lunch. Then tonight you can have dinner at Pirate's Booty. There's always a lot of ambience there."

  "Thanks, Cuz, for letting us stay here." We follow her into her apartment and Cat walks around, checking out Jane's place. There's a leather sofa and pin-striped armchair in the living room. Next to it is a small kitchen with barely enough room to fit a table and two chairs. But the red and purple curtains on the windows and antique-looking vases displayed around the place make the apartment seem very charming.

  "Hey, it's small but it's mine," Jane says. I know enough about city living to know that her parents are picking up the tab for her rent-there's no way she could afford even a small place like this.

  "It's great! And I love that painting." I point to a huge Jackson Pollack-like canvas above the couch.
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br />   "Thanks. Garage sale. And that one, too." Jane points to the opposite wall, where a sunset sits.

  We freshen up and are back on the street in less than thirty minutes. There's so much to see and we'll only be here for a day and a half. We grab slices of the most awesome pizza for lunch and then hit some of the vintage shops in Jane's neighborhood. I score a skirt and a pair of hoops while Cat makes out with two Indian-print tops and the cutest clutch, made out of recycled soda cans.

  Back at Jane's place, Cat and I chill out on the couch until six and then decide to get decked out for the night. We both blow-dry our hair and raid Jane's makeup collection. I wear black on account of the fact that we're going to a restaurant associated with pirates. But I draw the line on anything with bold stripes, or a bandana on my head. I throw on my latest beaded creation instead, a matching coral necklace and earrings set-one of my more sophisticated pieces. Cat insists on a green top, because her old manager at The Gap confirmed early on that green is her best color.

  Pirate's Booty is pretty funky, with a skull and crossbones on the huge wooden door. Jane's wearing black leggings and a red-and-white-striped Pirate's Booty tee. She looks cute. The host, who has an eye patch, sits us in her section.

  While we're looking at our menus, I pinch Cat. "I can't believe we're actually here!"

  "I know, this is so cool! You might actually have something to thank Eli for."

  Maybe.

  Jane slaps a basket of mozzarella sticks on the table. "They're on the house!"

  We both thank her and place our orders. A cheeseburger for me and a chicken sandwich for Cat. The restaurant is filled with all types of people but most look like they're in their early twenties, casual with sneakers and jeans.

  I dip the cheesy stick into the marinara sauce. "This restaurant is pretty happening."

  "I know, and that cute waiter keeps on looking at us," Cat says.

  I immediately turn my head. "He is cute. Did you see his dimples?" Tall, thick brown hair, squeezable buttwhat more can you ask for?

  "Not so obvious." Cat laughs.

  Mr. Cute strolls toward our table. Cat smiles at him.

  "Saw that!" I tap her on the arm.

  There's no time to react, because now he's a foot from my face. "Hey, ladies. Heard you're friends of Jane's."

  Cat eyes him. "Yeah, she's my cousin. We're staying with her for the weekend." She points to herself. "I'm Cat and this is Indigo."

  "Nice to meet ya. I'm Bradley." He slaps his dish towel onto the table. "What are you doing tonight?"

  "Not sure yet." Cat shrugs.

  "Well, a friend of mine is having a huge birthday bash. You guys are welcome to come. It's in Soho."

  "Thanks," I say. It would be fun to go to a real New York party.

  "What time?" Cat sips her Diet Coke.

  "It starts around eight. Jane's closing tonight, but if she doesn't mind, I can take you guys over. I'm getting off at nine.

  I look over at Cat. With the smile on her face, I don't even have to ask her if she's in. "Cool," I say.

  Cat nods. "Sounds fun."

  True to his word, Bradley clocks out at nine and comes over to our table to get us. Jane told us to have a good time and make sure we have enough cab money in case we want to ditch the party. I don't see that happening. All the New York parties that I've read about in magazines sound amazing!

  You'd never know from staring at the front of the brownstone that a party is brewing inside. But when we walk up the three flights of stairs, the music is blaring and we can hear people laughing inside. The apartment is pretty sparse-totally bachelor-style, with a leather sectional and Yankees memorabilia hanging on the walls. Tons of people are hanging out, the crowd flowing onto the balcony.

  We follow Bradley to the kitchen and grab some beers. He starts talking to a couple of buddies, so Cat and I find a safe corner in the living room. All the seats are taken, so basically we hold up the wall.

  "Cheers to New York!" Cat raises her plastic cup.

  "Yeah, this is cool. A real Manhattan party." I look around the room. Wonder if we'll catch any celebrities here. Not that I'm looking, but it would be a fun thing to report back to Eli.

  It doesn't take long for me to feel no pain. If this is New York life, I am so in. I can't stop staring at all the people. They look so much more glamorous than the partiers at school back home. I mean, if someone showed up to a party in Caulder wearing four-inch heels and a plethora of makeup, they would definitely be made fun of. But here, anything goes. The less clothes the better. I'm glad Cat and I went shopping today, because my Target wear would be majorly out of place here.

  I can't get my eyes off of the girl working the keg in a tiny gold dress and red heels. She actually looks kind of cute. Bradley has wasted no time finding a girl to hook up with. Okay, so technically she could be his girlfriend, but he didn't act taken on the cab ride over. He kept on telling us how good we smelled and that my hair was really silky. He smelled like Pirate's Booty-fried food and stale beer-so I couldn't return the compliment.

  Cat grabs a couple bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade from the fridge and hands one to me.

  "Shouldn't we stick with the beer?" I ask.

  "That stuff tastes like piss. The guy with the Red Sox hat said we can have whatever we want."

  Oh yeah, he probably knows what he's talking about if he's wearing that hat in a Yankees fan's home. But I laugh. "Look at you. We've only been here two hours and you've already got an in." I taste the drink. "This is good."

  "I know. Isn't this awesome?" Cat slings her arm around me.

  "Yeah, so cool!" Some older Smashing Pumpkins song fills the air. As far as I'm concerned, old stuff is good. Safe.

  "And don't even think about your interview tomorrow."

  I slosh back some more hard lemonade. "I wasn't, until you just brought it up."

  "Oh, my bad."

  A girl with an actual beehive passes by with a tray of Jell-O shots. Cat grabs one and hands it to me.

  "I'm good." I hold up my drink.

  "Your loss." She downs the shot. "Let's go talk to them." She points to three guys huddled around a small table. They look like college students with their baseball caps and sports T-shirts.

  I glance over and make eye contact with one, a very good-looking, green-eyed hottie. I let the alcohol do the talking. "Yum, I'm in."

  "That's my slut." Cat drags me over to them. She almost trips over her own feet.

  "Slow down," I whisper. But she doesn't even hear me. She's already half gone.

  "Hey ladies." The Green-Eyed Prince smiles. His voice is deep and sexy, like a movie-voiceover guy. I melt.

  "This party is the bomb!" Cat holds her empty bottle up like a torch.

  "Looks like girlfriend needs another," a curly haired guy says. He reaches down and hands her a bottle from the six-pack next to him. Why walk over to the keg when you can bring your own?

  "Cat, are you sure you want another?" I whisper.

  "Puhleese." She holds her hand up to me.

  "The party's just getting started." Green Eyes taps his beer bottle against mine.

  I take a drink to that.

  "So where do you go to school?" he asks.

  "I'm from Boston." Only a three-hour drive, if you're into long-distant relationships.

  "Boston College?"

  "Boston University," Cat shouts.

  "Ah, BU girls." Green Eyes smiles. Whatever that means-I really don't know. But it's better than him calling us high school girls.

  "Yeah, we're just here to visit her cousin for the weekend." I point to Cat.

  "Indigo really needs to party," Cat shouts, swaying her hips to the music that's blaring from the other room. I don't even recognize the song, but it's got a techno beat.

  "Indigo? From the song?" Green Eyes asks.

  "Not really," I say.

  "Hell, yeah." Cat drowns me out.

  "Ha, Greg, check this out. This is that Indigo chick." Green Eyes, no long
er my knight in shining armor, nudges the guy next to him who's talking up a girl.

  "No I'm not." I lower my head and look to Cat for some help. But she's sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall and sipping another drink, humming. How you hum to techno music is beyond me.

  "Yeah, sure it's her." The girl joins the conversation. "I thought you'd look bitchier."

  How do you look bitchy? "I'm not her," I mumble.

  "I thought you were in high school." The girl laughs.

  Maybe if I don't answer they will all go away.

  "Indigooooo." Cat waves to me from the floor. I swear, if she wasn't my best friend, I would so leave her here. For good.

  "Come here, Jade, Haley." The girl calls over two more friends.

  I inch away a couple of steps, over to the balcony door, hoping there's an escape staircase like you see in the movies, but I don't see anything. There are too many people outside, gathered around a bamboo bar.

  "Cat, get up." I nudge her with my foot.

  "Oh, my God," Jade says. "You must be so sorry now that you screwed Adam over."

  "You could've been hot shit," another girl, with boobs the size of bowling balls, adds.

  "Now she's cold shit." Green Eyes laughs.

  I shout, "Cat, get up! We need to leave." I manage to slide her a little closer to the balcony.

  And that's when I just about lose my lunch. It takes every muscle in my body to hold it in. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. They have to be.

  Is that Adam? With a girl ... the one from the newspaper? Crap, I'm fucked, and Cat was wrong-she's pretty, really pretty in person.

  Adam looks different. More grown up, more sure of himself, like he's standing straighter or something. He used to always have his hands in his pockets, but now they're at his side.

  I can't let him see me like this. These hecklers could be his friends.

  I turn to the group. "Listen, I think you've got the wrong person.