What Happens to Men When They Move to Manhattan

by Jill Knapp

  “Damn, I need a cocktail.” Alex slumped in his seat.

  I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s ten o’clock in the morning, man. Get it together.”

  He didn’t bother to answer.

  I took out two black-ink pens, and my reading glasses for good measure. I sat patiently as the teacher’s assistant passed out the blue test booklets.

  “You have one hour,” the T.A. said. He wrote down the current time and the time the test would end on the chalkboard.

  Thankfully, the studying had actually paid off and I breezed through the test in a record twenty-five minutes. I watched as a few students, with relieved looks on their faces, made their way to the front of the class and placed their booklets on the desk. I wanted to time my departure around Michael’s but he still appeared to be writing, so I walked up to the front. On my way out, I glanced back at Michael. I wondered if we would get a chance to talk later today.

  I started to make my way down the stairs when Olivia called my name.

  “Amalia, wait up!” I turned around as she quickly made her way down the stairs.

  “Hey! Wow how about that final? I definitely failed. She twisted her hair into a tight bun. “Do you want to grab some lunch?”

  “Sure, I guess,” I said wondering if she had only studied the one time I came over. “Let’s drown our memories of this test in Chinese food.”

  We hailed a cab to Washington Street and made our way to Baby Buddha, my favorite downtown Chinese food restaurant. We were seated immediately and set up with our own teapot, duck sauce, and those delicious crunchies they give you that I never did learn the proper name for. After only three minutes of sitting, a young, delicately framed girl with long jet-black hair appeared at our table. The service was extremely quick for that time of day, and after a quick glance of the menu we decided on the vegetable dumplings and fried rice for Olivia and me to share. I sat eating my crunchies, listening to Olivia complain about how difficult the final had been.

  After my second cup of tea, I started feeling weird about what happened between Michael and me. We hadn’t spoken or technically seen each other since last night. I wondered if he thought sex was a huge mistake and was going to avoid me now. What if he was too ashamed to ever speak to me again? Or maybe I was using him to hide my own pain, my breakup with Nicholas.

  I suddenly couldn’t take the anxiety any more. Keeping this secret to myself was killing me and it wouldn’t hurt just to tell someone.

  “Olivia, I have to tell you something.” I put down the now-empty bowl of crunchies. “But before I tell you, you have to promise me you aren’t going to tell anyone.”

  She looked up from her dish confused but welcoming. “Amalia, I promise. Is everything all right? Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  “No, nothing like that.” I shook my head and allowed myself a small laugh. “It’s just something complicated and it involves Michael.”

  I tried to play it off like it was nothing, but by the look on her face she wasn’t buying it. She waved her hand, signaling me to continue. I let out a heavy sigh. “Last night, Michael came over my apartment to help me study. While he was over we ended up, well, you know.”

  “You guys hooked up?” She had a horrified look on her face.

  Suddenly I felt nauseous. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Yeah, pretty much.” I nervously sipped my green tea.

  She pushed her plate away from her, as if she suddenly needed more table space to understand what I had just told her. Her face twisted into a grimace and I felt a scolding coming on.

  “All right, so what exactly happened?” she asked. “You two just kissed a little, right?”

  I grew more uncomfortable with each question, but I had come too far to drop the subject.

  “Um, no. We actually did a little more than that.” I was utterly regretting my decision to tell her. Her judgmental stare pressed down on me as I fumbled my fork. I dropped the cutlery on the table and began to look around the room.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” she muttered under her breath.

  I felt a sudden urge to defend myself.

  “Look, Olivia, I have feelings for Michael. It’s not like I just randomly slept with him for kicks.”

  “Amalia, he has a girlfriend,” she leaned forward in her chair. “He is cheating on his girlfriend with you. What do you think is going to happen, exactly? He’s going to leave her for you?”

  “Maybe he will; you don’t know that he won’t,” I crossed my arms. “You have no idea what’s going through his mind.”

  She had a point. Just what did I expect to happen? And I didn’t exactly have a grasp on what was going through his mind myself. But either way, I couldn’t believe Olivia was acting like this, especially when I had been so understanding about her secret romance with an unknown suitor.

  “What has he said?” she pushed. “Did he tell you he has feelings for you? Are you going to do it again? I mean, not for nothing, Amalia, but you’re making a big mistake!”

  All of her questions were starting to give me a headache. “It wasn’t just me who made the mistake! He’s the one who initiated everything. I can’t believe you would be so judgmental, Olivia.”

  She just sat there and shook her head.

  Her attitude was about as much as I could take for that afternoon. It was bad enough to have an inner monologue on repeat inside my head, telling me how bad I was. It was quite another to have one of my closest friends sit across the table and do it to me.

  I reached into my purse to pull out my wallet and noticed Michael’s gloves were still in there, which only further fueled my anger. I threw a twenty-dollar bill down on the table, looked right at Olivia and said, “I really expected something more from you, but I guess I was wrong.” I held her gaze for a moment.

  For a second I felt like I was overreacting and contemplated bringing up how silly this was. But I could tell by her withering stare she did not see the humor in all of this. As I kept her gaze, she just looked back at me, completely unapologetic and even challenging. Without saying another word, I collected my purse, my jacket, and whatever dignity I had left, and walked out of the restaurant.

  Chapter 15

  Sulking

  Later that day I was halfway through He’s Just Not That Into You, and completely through three salted caramel cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery, when my buzzer rang. I glanced at the clock on my cable box. The bold red neon numbers read 5:30. I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not at this time. Unwilling to move from my bed, I called out to Christina to answer the door. Apparently she wasn’t home, so I grabbed one more cupcake, wrapped my blanket around me and made my way to the door.

  “Yeah?” I grumbled into the intercom, still annoyed I had to move.

  “Hello? Amalia, it’s me. Buzz me up!” said Cassandra’s voice through the intercom.

  I hit the buzzer, unlocked my front door, and sluggishly made my way back to my bedroom. I hoped she was in the mood for a rom com, because I wasn’t turning this movie off.

  A few moments later, Cassandra was standing in my doorway, fresh from work, with her arms folded. She was wearing a dark-green dress with a camel-colored pea coat over it and dark-gray boots to pull the look together. I was in pajamas and had been since I had gotten home from lunch.

  “Excuse me, Miss Couch Potato,” she said, arms still folded. “Just what exactly are you doing?”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. I wasn’t expecting any company this evening and after the fight I got into with Olivia at lunch, the last thing I needed was another one of my friends giving me unneeded sass. She stood stubbornly in the doorway, clearly not accepting my sigh as an answer.

  “What does it look like? I’m sulking, Cassandra. I got into a big fight with Olivia after we took our final this afternoon and I’m upset about Michael because I have no idea what’s going on with us,” I finally said.

  I was in no mood to talk about any of this, but she’d drag it out of
me one way or another. So I conceded after a few more probing questions.

  “So what did you and Olivia fight about? And what do you mean by ‘you and Michael’? I thought you ran away from him after he kissed you?” She seemed genuinely confused. “Have you spoken to him?”

  I couldn’t lie to Cassandra any more than I could lie to Olivia. I just hoped Cassie’s reaction would be more tame.

  “Well,” I said hesitantly. “That’s not exactly the whole story, Cass.” I watched in fear as her eyes grew wider. “Look, last night something happened.”

  I patted the spot on the bed next to me, an indication for her to come and join me. She dropped her Marc Jacobs purse on my desk and slipped off her boots. As she took a seat next to me on the bed I told her the entire story of what happened, leading all the way up to this afternoon when Olivia reprimanded me.

  I expected a sturdy scolding from Cassandra as well, some sort of reminder of how bad I was. Maybe even an under-the-breath comment about how slutty I was. Instead, she moved closer to me and gave me a much-needed hug.

  “Oh, Amalia! I’m here for you, girl, whatever you need,” she said, reminding me why she was my best friend.

  I hugged her back, longer than our usual embrace would last. I really did need a friend right now, and hot tears burned behind my eyes. Then in the middle of our pow-wow, it occurred to me she had come by unannounced.

  “So what are you doing here?” I said, composing myself. “Not that I’m not glad you stopped by, but don’t you usually work until six or seven?”

  She shook her head and gave a slight eye roll. Something gave me the feeling the conversation was no longer going to be about me.

  “It’s Bryce,” she spat out, confirming my suspicions. It hurt that she immediately changed the conversation to something about her, but I decided one friend mad at me was enough and let her talk. “He’s driving me crazy! He’ll go days acting perfectly normal, calling, texting, and even making future plans. Then there are other days when I don’t hear from him at all; it’s complete radio silence. Oh! And if I initiate contact with him, he won’t answer me for hours, it’s so frustrating! I just had to leave work. The more I sat in front of my computer, the more tempted I was to check his Facebook page.”

  “Have you two spoken about where you are in your relationship? Are you two monogamous?” I asked. I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to feel more alert.

  “Relationship? Ha! Please, monogamy? I have no idea.” She waved her hands in the air. She always did have a flair for the dramatic. Her mouth turned into a self-deprecating grimace. “Any time I try to bring it up with him, he answers me with ‘I just want to take things slow, and see how it goes.’ I mean I really like him, Amalia. I just seriously don’t know what to do.”

  I let out yet another sigh and shook my head. I took my wool blanket and threw some extra material over Cassandra. “I know exactly what you need.”

  It seemed like we were both in the same position.

  She looked at me inquisitively and I handed her my last cupcake while directing her attention back to the movie. She happily accepted the treat and leaned back into the big stack of pillows I had created for myself. I grabbed the remote and hit play. It was right on the scene where Gigi tells Alex that he’s afraid of getting hurt, and that she would never want to be like him. I found it quite fitting.

  Chapter 16

  White Christmas

  Christmas Eve had come and so did a trip back to Staten Island. I stepped off the bus and took a look around. Cassandra’s parents’ house, which was located in a neighborhood called Newdorp, looked as winter-wonderful as ever. Inside was beautifully decorated with brand-new Christmas lights, shiny silver ornaments, red and green garlands, and stockings hung by the working chimney. I even had a stocking of my own. When I walked into the living room, I was immediately hit with the scent of cinnamon cookies, and the sounds of Frank Sinatra singing “White Christmas” over the stereo. I decided there and then that for the next two days, I was going to be blissfully unaware of anything going on outside of this house – which included Michael – and I was going to have a wonderful time if it killed me.

  As I made my way into the kitchen, Cassandra’s parents and a harem of guests greeted me, including her grandparents, a handful of aunts and uncles, and even her teacup Chihuahua Muffin, who had already made her away over to my new boots. Excited to get the day going, I said my hellos, dropped off my bottle of wine in the kitchen and made my way up the stairs to Cassandra’s bedroom.

  “You’re here!” she said, dropping a half-wrapped present onto the floor.

  Cassandra’s childhood bedroom was about twice the size of my bedroom in the city. The walls were still painted light purple from when she was a child, but I noticed her old bedside tables were replaced with new, shiny silver ones holding up square vases packed with sunflowers.

  “Are you seriously still wrapping gifts?” I asked with a smirk. It’s more of an accusation than a question; she always waits until the last minute. “Did you even wrap my gift yet?”

  “Oh shut up.” She tossed a small, beautifully wrapped present my way.

  I caught it one-handed and gave myself a mental pat on the back. I dug into the bottomless pit that is my purse and pulled out her gift. I made my way over to her bed and sat down, careful not to disturb any of the half-wrapped gifts.

  “Do you realize this is my fifth consecutive year spending Christmas with you?” I handed her an envelope.

  “So is this a Christmas present or an anniversary present?” she raised an eyebrow.

  “Just open it!” I said as I began to rip through wrapping paper.

  I carefully unwrapped the gold and green paper and was immediately blown away by the box. In bold black letters, the prestigious word Chanel was written in graceful script. I quickly decided it must be a joke, a re-used box she had lying around, and upon opening this box I would find yet another smaller box and so on, kind of like a Russian stacking doll. To my surprise, I did not find another box. However, what was inside was a small black patent-leather wallet with the Chanel insignia proudly displayed in the middle. It was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen, and easily above the most expensive thing I owned.

  “Cassandra, I cannot accept this! Honestly it’s just too much. I think you need to take it back.” I held it out to her.

  I meant every word, but I still secretly hoped she would tell me I was being ridiculous and that of course I could take it. Which, she did, thankfully.

  I jumped up and down and held the wallet over my head like a trophy. After my victory dance, I gently placed it down on the bed and ran over to give her a hug.

  “Your gift definitely destroys the fifty-dollar gift card to Williams and Sonoma I got you.”

  She laughed. “No way, sweetie, you know I need a new pizza stone.”

  Now we were both laughing. Being with Cassandra and her family was just what I needed. The scent of cinnamon floated its way up to the second floor, forcing a giddy smile on my face. For the first time in a long time, I felt genuinely happy.

  An hour later, we were all seated at the diningroom table, which was covered from end to end with food. Since I had been coming for many years, her mother knew my food-preference and had even made some of my favorite dishes, including their famous spinach dip and cauliflower gratin. I felt right at home and I absolutely adored Cassandra’s parents.

  “So, Amalia,” Cassandra’s mother said as she helped herself to a slice of ham. “How’s school going? And how is that boyfriend of yours?”

  Cassandra hadn’t told her mother Nicholas and I had broken up. Since the whole Michael debacle, I hadn’t thought about Nick too much, but I feared this conversation would ricochet me back into a sullen state.

  “School’s going great, Marie, but unfortunately Nicholas and I aren’t together anymore.” I mindlessly pushed a lump of cauliflower around my plate.

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry. What happened? You two seemed so perfect for e
ach other,” Marie asked. She reached over the table and took my hand.

  That had to be the worst thing someone could say, “You two seemed perfect.” She was right, we were perfect, and I still couldn’t give anyone a legitimate reason for him leaving me.

  Before I could answer her, Cassandra chimed in. “Mom, she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  Cassandra’s mother shook her head and then gave me an all-knowing glance. “I understand. His loss!” She patted my hand twice and then returned to her meal.

  I suddenly felt the need for more wine and poured myself another rather large glass.

  Dinner went by in a blur of wine and carbohydrates and before I knew it, we were having coffee and dessert. Our dessert consisted of apple pie, cupcakes with green and red food coloring, and a large vanilla cake in the shape of a snowman. Halfway through my second slice of cake, my cell phone vibrated. Not wanting to seem rude, I surreptitiously read the text message under the table.

  It was from Olivia. “Hope you’re having a Merry Christmas! P.S. I’m sorry for being a total bitch the other day!”

  I laughed aloud and had to show the message to Cassandra. We both decided I should give Olivia another chance, and that she must have just been having an off day when she chewed me out at the restaurant. A few moments later, the phone vibrated again, and I fully expected it to be another message from Olivia. To my surprise, it was from Michael. My heart started to race as I slowly opened my inbox, savoring the moment of receiving any communication from him.

  “Merry Christmas, Amalia. Hope you’re having a great time at Cassandra’s house.”

  My shoulders sank. That’s all he wrote! I grimaced and passed the phone to Cassandra again.

  “What’s with him using your full name like that? It’s very formal, like he’s talking to a client or something.” She rolled her eyes. “Why can’t he just say Merry Christmas?”