What Happens to Men When They Move to Manhattan

by Jill Knapp

  Cassie just looked at me; the smile had vanished from her face and was replaced by a grimace.

  “This story is terrible,” she folded her arms. “I’m really disappointed in you. I got all excited for nothing. You know what you are? A story tease.”

  I sat back in my chair and let out an exasperated sigh. I put my left hand on my forehead and shook my head at her. “Listen missy, number one, Michael has a girlfriend. Number two, I am still not over Nick, and number three,” I said as I checked my watch. “I have to get to Brooklyn and meet him and Olivia, to study for our final, which is in two days.”

  Without saying another word, I got up, threw my paper coffee cup into the trash and grabbed my heavy down coat.

  “Fine. Goodbye Amalia ‘story tease’ Hastings, I shall talk to you tomorrow,” she said, returning to her iPhone.

  I arrived at Olivia’s Park Slope apartment right on time, hoping to beat Michael there, but there he was sitting at her kitchen table, ready to work. It was official. It was impossible for the guy to not look good. Olivia was back to her usual dowdy self, wearing jeans that were a size or two too big, and an oversized NYU sweatshirt with a picture of a Bobcat on it that she undoubtedly purchased at orientation from the school bookstore. The two of them looked as if they were already down to business and I was interrupting. There were index cards spread out all over the table, two different Cognitive Neuroscience text books, and a worn-out copy of the Gray’s Anatomy.

  “Coffee?” Olivia asked, holding a fresh pot in one hand and a mug in the other.

  “Sure,” I replied quickly, even though I was still a little wired from my last cup.

  I pulled my long blonde hair into a tight pony tail to get it off my face, in an attempt to show that I too was ready to work. Even if Michael’s presence was a distraction. I had only been there two minutes and I already felt butterflies in my stomach. A few curls fell out of place, and I quickly tucked them behind my ears.

  Over the next two hours, the three of us had two more cups of coffee, polished off a pizza, and managed to cover nearly every ounce of material that was going to be on our final. Olivia’s phone rang and she retrieved the call in her bedroom, leaving Michael and me alone. Why did he have to look so damn sexy?

  Up until now I actually managed to compose myself in what I thought was a normal manner, but now that we were alone I felt all of my anxiety return. He must have noticed it because he moved his chair closer to me and said, “Everything alright?”

  I couldn’t look at him. I told myself to keep my eyes in the book and to not engage.

  Quickly I answered, “I’m just not entirely understanding this last chapter,” as I flipped through the pages of my notebook, pretending to read.

  “Well, I think by now I know this stuff backwards and forwards, so if you’d like I can come by tomorrow after work and we can get in one more cram session before the exam,” he offered.

  “You mean, come by my apartment?” I asked, horrified.

  “Yes,” he let out a soft laugh. “I mean, if that’s a problem we can go somewhere else.”

  “No, it’s not a problem. Why would it be a problem?” I rambled.

  “Great, so I’ll come by around seven and we can hit the books. There’s just one more thing, Amalia.”

  “Yes,” I said, eyes widened. I wondered if he was going to say we needed to talk about what happened last weekend.

  “I need you to tell me your address again, because I forgot where you live”.

  “Right!” I laughed nervously. I could feel my face turning red. “Of course you need my address. I live on the corner of West 10th and Greenwich Street. It’s a brown building; you can’t miss it.”

  “Perfect. It’s getting pretty late so I’m going to take off,” he said grabbing his coat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Just as Michael closed the door behind him, Olivia reappeared from her bedroom.

  “Where did Michael go?” she asked, cleaning up our empty coffee mugs.

  “He had to go home,” I said, trying to sound cavalier. “He has work early tomorrow morning.”

  Olivia nodded and returned to cleaning. Relief rolled through me; she was obviously unaware as to what was going on between Michael and me, and I had gotten nervous for nothing the other day.

  “So who was on the phone?” I asked.

  “What?” she asked, as if she was confused by my question.

  I glared back at her. “Olivia, you were just on the phone for about fifteen minutes. Who were you talking to?”

  “Oh, um, my mom. You know how it is, living on my own now. She calls a lot.” Olivia walked back into the kitchen, turned on the dishwasher, and started looking out the window. She was acting fine up until now; I was reminded of her actions in class the other day, when I thought she was mad at me. I wondered if something was going on with her family. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and I took the hint that she wanted me to leave. I put on my coat, collected my things, and walked over to Olivia. I reached over and put my hand on her shoulder.

  I put on my coat, collected my things and crossed to her. I reached over and put my hand on her shoulder. “Olivia, if something is bothering you and you need to talk about it, I just want you to know I am here for you.”

  She turned around and gave me an unexpected hug.

  “Thank you,” she said, still holding on to me. “Really, I’m fine, just worried about this test!” she released me and lightly hit me with a dish towel.

  Suddenly, it dawned on me. The clandestine phone call, her random bad moods, the mystery man at the dinner, and any excuse to change the topic of conversation, it was suddenly crystal-clear. Her back was to me, still cleaning her already-pristine counter tops. I playfully tapped her on the shoulder.

  “So, Olivia, who is he?” I asked with a wide-knowing grin.

  “Who?” she asked, refusing to meet my eyes.

  “Your mystery boyfriend!” I cried. “Come on, Olivia, you’ve been acting crazy since the dinner party so spill the beans already and tell me who he is!”

  Well that certainly got her attention. She whipped around, nearly knocking all of her freshly washed dishes onto the floor, and stared back at me with wide eyes. “How did you know?”

  How did I know? Maybe it was because I too was in the middle of a secret romance, or at least I hoped to be, and I recognized some of the signs. I considered telling her about Michael, and then maybe she and I could compare notes. I chickened out, and instead went for a more sophomoric answer.

  “I know, because I’m a girl,” I said. I figured she would accept that reasoning.

  “Please, Amalia, don’t say anything to anyone!” she said looking really anxious. “You’re right, it is a secret, and I am not ready for our entire circle to get a hold of this information”.

  I knew exactly how she felt, so all I said was, “Of course.”

  She gave me another hug as I glanced at the clock on her microwave and figured I had better get going. As I made my way into the elevator, I felt proud of myself for figuring out the reason for Olivia’s erratic behavior. I knew first hand that love certainly can make you act crazy. When I got outside, it was snowing. It was the first snowfall of the season and I was reminded that Christmas Eve was in a few days. I pulled my faux fur-rimmed hood tightly over my head and began to make my way home.

  Chapter 13

  Crossing the line

  It was now 6:45, a mere fifteen minutes prior to Michael’s arrival and Christina still had not departed from our apartment. I could have sworn she told me she was going out to dinner with her boyfriend tonight and staying at his place, and that she would be leaving around 6:30. Calm down, I told myself; she’s probably just running late. I didn’t want her to still be here when he arrived; I imagined it could be a very awkward encounter if she were to exit while he was entering. I’d have to explain where she was going, in an effort to make Michael feel like I didn’t kick her out in anticipation of our “study session.�
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  I felt a wave of relief wash over me when she called out, “I’m leaving, see you tomorrow!” and heard the door slam.

  I ran back into my bedroom and looked myself up and down in my full-length mirror. Hair straight? Check. New “casual-looking but still effortlessly beautiful” outfit? Check. Natural make-up? Check. I had to look good without it being obvious I was trying to look good. After all, we were just going to be sitting around in my apartment; I couldn’t exactly put on a ball gown. I smacked on a final coat of lip-gloss and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the buzzer go off. I took a deep breath, walked over to my door and buzzed him in. I had about two minutes while he rode the elevator to plant myself on the couch and pretend I had been studying this entire time. A short eternity later, I heard a knock on my door.

  “It’s open!” I called out, trying not to sound too desperate.

  Finally, he had arrived, fully prepared to study, with more index cards, two study guides that companioned our text books, and to my surprise two cups of Starbucks coffee. I jumped off the couch to give him a hand, but he swatted me away, dumping everything into a pile on my table.

  “One soy Vanilla Latte for you,” he said handing me the to-go cup. “And a half caff, no foam, extra shot of mocha, skim macchiato for me”.

  “Oh really? That’s what you ordered?” I asked with a sarcastic smile.

  “Sure,” he answered, smiling. “What’s the problem?” He raised one sexy eyebrow.

  I put my coffee on the table, took his out of his hand. “Well then you won’t mind if I try some?”

  “Please, by all means,” he offered with a serious face.

  I took a sip and nearly spit the sludge out.

  “Ew! This coffee is black, and it doesn’t even have any sugar in it!”

  “Oh right. I always get black coffee and macchiatos mixed up,” he took a sip of his disgusting coffee.

  “That’s appalling,” I said playfully as I stacked all of our books into a neat pile.

  “Well, thank you for the surprise cup of joe,” I said honestly. “But shouldn’t we get started? I thought we could start with the most recent chapter and work our way backwards to the beginning of the semester.”

  “Sure thing.” he said complacently. “I am merely here to help”.

  Over the next two hours we hit the books hard, studying every morsel of information given to us over the past few months. I was even able to regurgitate most of it when Michael tested me from the make-shift flash cards he brought over.

  “I don’t know about you, but I can sure use a break,” he said as he rubbed his eyes.

  I nodded in agreement and let out a soft sigh. “Do you want anything? Maybe something to drink?”

  “Ugh. I’d love a glass of wine if you have it.”

  “Well Michael Rathbourne!” I dramatically paced a hand to my chest. “Drinking on a school night? That doesn’t seem at all like something we do at all.” I shook my head, pretending to scold him.

  He offered me a soft laugh as I opened a new bottle of Cabernet and poured us both a much-needed glass. I handed the goblet over to him and we toasted.

  “To acing our final!” he declared, holding the wine glass high.

  I let out a small laugh. “I’ll definitely drink to that.”

  As the evening went on, I started to feel a little more comfortable. I don’t know if it was the wine or the conversation, but I felt like we were really hitting it off. Dare I say in a romantic way? My heart fluttered quickly as we sat on the couch and talked about school, our friends, and even our families.

  “Can I ask you something?” He said, narrowing his eyes.

  “Sure,” I answered, feeling my heart beat harder.

  “Not that it’s any of my business, but how do you pay for this apartment?” he asked, moving a little bit closer to me.

  “Oh. Well, it’s kind of embarrassing,” I said, suddenly feeling very warm. “I took out extra student loans and put them towards the rent of the apartment. I just really wanted to live here and it seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m definitely not going to do it next year. Also, my parents help me out. Just a little, though!”

  “Hey listen, it’s really expensive living in this city,” he offered, easing my insecurity. “I mean this isn’t Gossip Girl, none of us are ridiculously rich. Except maybe Alex. I think he might be rich.”

  “I have no idea,” I said, straightening my posture and looking directly into his eyes.

  I leaned a little closer, hoping he would take the hint and kiss me.

  “So what are your holiday plans?” He sipped his second glass of wine.

  My shoulders deflated and I sank back into the couch.

  “My mother is an atheist and my father is Jewish, so for the most part we don’t really celebrate the winter holidays in my house. I usually spend Christmas with my friend Cassandra’s family.”

  The truth was I loved spending Christmas with her. I was a part of something the entire world got to enjoy, while my family devotedly protested against it.

  “That sounds like a great time. I’ve only met her a few times, but she seems like a nice girl.” He gave me a small smile. “You’re lucky to have such a good friend that you can spend the holidays with.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said. “She’s definitely a good friend.” Cassandra was lucky to have such a kind and welcoming family.

  “What about you?” I asked, fluffing my hair up a bit. “Do you go home to see your family?”

  “I actually convinced my parents to come into the city and spend Christmas here this year,” he said. “It’s going to be nice to not have to travel for once, and this way I can take them and maybe even go ice-skating in Bryant Park.”

  “What about your sister? How are you all going to fit in your apartment?”

  “She’s spending the holidays with her boyfriend,” he explained. “They’re getting pretty serious; I wouldn’t be surprised if he popped the question this weekend.”

  Hearing this news, I couldn’t help but wonder how serious he and Marge were, or if they were even still together. I leaned back onto the couch, loving how easy this was. Just to sit here and be with him felt perfect. I took another sip of my wine and made a secret wish that he felt the same way.

  It struck me as odd he hadn’t brought up our kiss at the hotel, but I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to say something. I looked up from the spread of textbooks on my table, and caught Michael’s eye. He had been staring at me. I suddenly felt self-conscious, as if I had something in my teeth and he was too polite to point it out. He took the wine glass out of my hand and placed it on the coffee table. Before I could say a word, he roped his fingers through my hair and pulled me in. He started kissing my mouth, lightly biting my lips at first, then passionately pushing me down onto the couch. I could taste the wine on his lips. He positioned himself on top of me and ran his hand down my stomach, and then down the back of my leg. I kissed back, hard and fast, like someone who was eating a meal they were scared would be taken away. He backed up off of me and a pit of disappointment opened in my stomach.

  “No, don’t stop,” I uttered, but in my head it sounded more like a plea.

  Michael let out a low breathy laugh. In seconds, he picked me up and carried me through the hallway into my bedroom. Thank goodness no one was home. He sat on my bed and effortlessly placed me on top of him. I was always amazed at how strong men were; how they could whip you around like little dolls without breaking a sweat.

  I used the opportunity of facing him to unbutton his shirt, while still afraid to stop kissing. He returned the motion by carefully pulling my chocolate-brown sweater over my head. Next came my pants, then his pants, my bra and underwear, and then we were crossing the line between friends and lovers.

  Chapter 14

  Baby Buddha

  I woke up the next morning like I would any other. I got out of bed, put on my slippers, and stumbled into the bathroom. It wasn’t until I caught a
glimpse of myself in the mirror that I finally put the pieces of last night’s indiscretion into place. My curly hair had metamorphosed into a blonde weave of bird’s nest-esque tangles, looking even wilder than the usual bedhead I sported in the morning. My lips were raw and cracked from hours of kissing. My blue eyes were entirely red from only five short hours of sleep. I also had a small but undeniable headache from the wine, and my thigh muscles were aching from sitting on top of Michael for so long.

  Problems I was more than happy to have.

  The events of last night had accelerated quickly, and after round two, Michael had to say goodnight. He didn’t end up leaving until after one in the morning, part of the reason I looked like a New York Doll. I walked into my kitchen to make urgently needed coffee. I couldn’t help but hum to myself as I cleaned out the coffee pot. In the midst of my bliss, I noticed he had left his gloves on my table. Before I forgot, I brought them into my room and tucked them into the inside pocket of my purse.

  I walked, or maybe it was a skip, back into the kitchen to continue making breakfast, and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Christina standing there.

  “Oh my gosh, I had no idea you were home!” I cried. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “I’m sorry!” she said. “Yeah, I came home about an hour ago. I have to go to class at ten today.”

  “Me too,” I said as I looked at the clock; it was only 8:45, plenty of time to get ready for class. “So you said you came home this morning right? Not last night,” I asked as I filled the kettle up with water.

  “Yup,” was all she said, as she walked out of the kitchen and claimed the first shower.

  I didn’t mind. She could have the first shower for the rest of the month and I wouldn’t mind. I sat on my couch and happily sipped my coffee and ate my English muffin. Nothing was going to ruin my good mood; not today.

  Another cup of coffee and a quick shower later, I was off to class to take my final. I had arrived at ten o’clock on the dot and to my dismay, the only available seat was next to Alex. I looked around the room for Michael and spotted him in the second row, deeply engrossed in his study cards.