The Big Apple Effect

by Christy Goerzen

Our bags spun past on the baggage claim belt—my vintage brown leather suitcase and Anna’s black suitcase on wheels.

  “Only one suitcase each?” Thomas said, whisking our suitcases off the belt. “I thought girls overpacked.”

  “I have an extra bag in my suitcase for all the clothes I’m going to buy while I’m here,” I explained.

  “I didn’t have that many clothes to bring,” Anna said matter-of-factly.

  “This way,” Thomas said, as he led us out of the airport.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket again. As we’d gotten off the plane my phone had immediately buzzed with six texts from my mom. R u there? Maddie? R u there now? I miss u! Love u! Text me back! I hadn’t written back yet.

  Now it said: I’m worried! U should have arrived by now.

  I hurriedly typed back: Yes! All good!

  I ran to catch up with Anna and Thomas, who were headed for the subway to take us into Manhattan. As we stepped outside the airport, I paused and breathed deeply. I am inhaling authentic New York City air, I thought.

  “Hey, I’m walkin’ here!” I heard a gruff voice shout from behind me. A real New York accent!

  “Hey, girlie!” someone else shouted. “Move it!”

  I snapped back to reality and looked around. Who were they talking to?

  “She’s moving, all right?” Anna shouted, pulling me next to her.

  I felt my face flush. Unfortunately, I had chosen to stop right in the way of people trying to board the escalator.

  Anna clucked her tongue as two men dressed in business suits rushed past us.

  “Anna, you sounded like you were in a movie just now,” I said, trying to bounce back.

  “Thanks,” Anna said. “I figure while in New York, do as the New Yorkers do.”

  “Not bad,” Thomas said, clearly impressed.

  We rode the subway into Manhattan. The subway car was crowded, so Anna, Thomas and I stood in the middle, hanging on to straps that hung down from the ceiling.

  “Here’s the Delancey Street station,” Thomas said brightly. “Our stop.”

  “Maddie wants to go to a delicatessen,” Anna said, as we took the stairs to street level.

  “Let’s go to Katz’s,” Thomas said. “They have the best pastrami sandwiches there. Perfect for a late-night bite.”

  My heart fluttered. Katz’s Delicatessen had been in loads of movies.

  Dazzled, I followed Thomas. I couldn’t help staring at everything and everyone. Taxi cabs whizzed by, many of them honking. These were real yellow New York City cabs, not boring, black Vancouver ones. Impossibly fashionable women clacked by in high heels. I didn’t see a single pair of yoga pants. Brownstone buildings with funky shops and cafés lined every street. It was so much busier, so much more alive than back home.

  Once inside Katz’s, I found that I could check not only number three off my list—visit a delicatessen—but also number forty, which was to drink to a real egg cream. I’d read about egg creams in the Lonely Planet Guide to New York City. Basically, it was milk and chocolate syrup mixed with club soda to make it foamy. No eggs, despite the name. It was a must-have NYC classic.

  We found a table in the crowded deli and set down our plates. I was the only one to order an egg cream. Thomas and Anna got boring old glasses of water.

  I felt my phone buzz. I groaned.

  “Another text from your mom?” Anna said, as I took out my phone. “I’m so glad my parents don’t have cell phones.”

  How is it?! the text from my mom said.

  I paused, staring at my screen. Amazing, I wrote. I vowed not to look at my phone any more that night, even if it buzzed.

  I took my notebook and pen out of my bag. I opened to my list and put tick marks next to numbers three and forty.

  “What’s that?” Thomas nodded toward my notebook.

  “Oh,” I said. I suddenly felt shy about my list. “It’s, um, my list of things I want to do while we’re here.”

  “It goes up to one hundred and thirty-four,” Anna said.

  “Hmmm,” Thomas said. “That’s an average of 19.14 things per day.”

  “Whoa, you can figure that out in your hea—”

  “See, this is what I was telling her,” Anna interrupted me. I guessed she was used to her brother’s math prowess.

  “Might be a little ambitious,” Thomas said, through a bite of his sandwich. “What’s number seventy-seven?”

  “Why number seventy-seven?” I said.

  “We recently discussed Gaussian distribution in my Popular Proofs class,” Thomas said with a shrug.

  I looked at Anna blankly.

  “Translation?” Anna said to Thomas.

  “Just being random,” Thomas said. He turned back to me. “So, number seventy-seven?”

  “Attend a church service in Harlem,” I said. “I heard the singing is amazing.”

  “Interesting,” Thomas said. “Number one hundred and twelve?”

  “See a band at Roseland,” I said.

  “You have to be twenty-one,” Thomas said, frowning. “It’s in a bar. Sorry.”

  “Oh,” I said. I crossed it off the list. Then, I took a sip from my big glass of egg cream.

  “How’s the drink?” Anna said.

  “Pretty good.” I didn’t want to admit that it was kind of gross. I forgot that I couldn’t stand the taste of club soda. At least the pastrami sandwich was tasty.

  “Well,” Thomas said, “you’ve already checked two things off the list. Let’s see if we can’t get to the other 17.14 things we need to do today.”

  My heart melted a little every time Thomas spoke. No, Maddie, I thought. It would be wrong to develop a crush on your friend’s brother. Wrong or not, it was happening.

  “Come on, ladies,” he said. He stuck his hands in his pockets and crooked his elbows out for us to each place a hand in, one on either side. “Let’s rock this town.”

  Chapter Four

  After the deli we made our way to Thomas’s apartment to leave our bags. Luckily it was only a few streets away. My suitcase had lost its cool vintage appeal once I realized how annoying and heavy it was to carry. I’d already whacked two people with it by accident. I wanted Anna’s sleek rolling one.

  “Here we are,” Thomas said, stopping at the front door of a tall, narrow brick building. For about the hundredth time that day, I felt an excited shudder run down my back. Thomas’s apartment building was a classic New York walk-up, just like in the movies and tv shows.

  “Ta-da!” he said, throwing open his front apartment door.

  Anna and I peered in. There was a sink, a tiny fridge, two chairs and a math-related poster on the wall. A futon couch butted against a milk crate with a lamp on it. The whole apartment wasn’t much bigger than my bedroom at home.

  “Bathroom’s that way,” Thomas pointed down the hall.

  “You don’t have a bathroom in your apartment?” Anna said, her mouth gaping open. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

  Thomas looked down. “Nope,” he said quietly. My heart swelled. Gosh, he was cute when he was sheepish.

  “Early mornings are the best time to take a shower,” he added. “There’s usually hot water then.”

  Okay, so we had to share a toilet. Big deal. This place was awesome. Very bohemian.

  “I’ll sleep on an air mattress on the floor,” Thomas said. “And you two can share the futon. It folds out pretty big.”

  “Where are you going to fit, in the sink?” Anna said. “There’s no room on the floor.”

  I didn’t think Anna was acting very nicely toward Thomas.

  “I think it’s perfect,” I piped up. “I love it.” I touched Thomas’s arm lightly.

  Before I knew it, Anna stepped on my toe, hard. “Ow!” I said.

  Thomas didn’t seem to notice. “Sam’s band the Smudges is playing at the Green Room Café tonight. Want to go?”

  “Going to a Greenwich Village coffeehouse is number five on my list!” I exclaimed.

  “
I thought so,” Thomas said. “Anna?”

  “Sure,” Anna shrugged. “I’ve been wanting to meet Sam, anyway.”

  This was exciting. I bet the band was a bunch of other cute New York boys. They had to be, if Thomas was friends with them.

  “Dump your bags, and let’s go,” Thomas said.

  An hour later, I was in bliss. I was sitting between Thomas and Anna in a cool coffeehouse. Right in front of us, the Smudges were playing. I couldn’t help stealing looks at Thomas every few seconds. Thomas, meanwhile, was staring at the band.

  The band sounded kind of folk pop. I was more of a punk fan, but they were pretty good. The guitarist and the drummer were both college-type guys with shaggy hair. The singer was a super-cute girl with hair that was short in the back and long in the front. She had a gorgeous voice.

  I leaned over and asked Thomas how he knew these people. “From school,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Hey,” Anna hissed in my other ear. “Cut it out.”

  “What?” I said.

  “Stop flirting with my brother,” Anna said, her eyes blazing in the candlelight.

  I couldn’t deny it. I was flirting with him. Couldn’t I have a little fun?

  The Smudges played their last song. After packing up their instruments, they dragged over another table and some chairs to join us.

  “Great set, Smudges,” Thomas said, giving them all high fives.

  The girl lead singer sat down on the other side of Thomas, with the rest of the band across from Anna and me.

  “Anna and Maddie,” Thomas said, “this is Tony and Jeff. And Sam.” He turned to the girl.

  Thomas and his friends ordered espressos. I ordered another latte and Anna got a Pepsi. Tony and Jeff were cute, almost as cute as Thomas. But not quite. They asked Anna and me how our trip was so far and what we wanted to do.

  “Vintage store shopping!” I exclaimed. Tony, Jeff and Thomas guffawed. Then I felt like an idiot for being overly enthusiastic. Play it cool, Maddie, I said in my head.

  “You going to Screaming Mimi’s?” Sam asked, smiling. “That’s my favorite store. It’s where I got these.” She stuck her foot up in the air, revealing the red cowboy boots I’d been admiring.

  “Too bad you leave on tour tomorrow,” Thomas said to Sam. “You could have taken Maddie shopping.”

  “Next time she’s in New York,” Sam said, winking.

  Sam asked me what other shops I wanted to visit. Soon I was telling her all about my list of one hundred and thirty-four things I wanted to do. She nodded and asked me smart questions as I went along.

  It was official. I wanted to be just like Sam.

  As she and I talked, I glanced down and saw that she and Thomas were holding hands.

  I felt my heart drop to the top of my stomach, which was sloshing with the three expensive lattes I’d already drunk that night.

  Right. Of course the gorgeous, smart, cool Sam was his girlfriend. Silly me.

  I felt sweat beads gather on the tip of my nose. That always happened to me when I got embarrassed.

  “Are you hot?” Anna said.

  “I think I’m just tired,” I said.

  Anna checked her watch. “Well, we’ve been awake since four am local time. Maybe we should go.”

  We said our goodbyes. Thomas and Sam had a big slurpy kiss right in front of us. Since The Smudges were going on tour the next day, it was the last time Thomas and Sam would be seeing each other for a month. My heart continued to sink.

  I didn’t say much on the short walk home. The tiredness and the sloshy stomach were hitting me. Apparently the caffeine wasn’t.

  Back in the apartment, Thomas tucked himself around the corner, half inside a closet.

  “I’m comfortable, I swear,” he said, his voice muffled. Anna and I laughed, snuggled up on the futon.

  “I’m such an idiot,” I whispered, a few minutes later, after I heard light snores coming from around the corner. I knew that Anna would know what I was talking about.

  “I should have mentioned that Thomas has a girlfriend,” Anna whispered back.

  A few more moments went by. I decided I’d have to get over it, or I would mope the entire time we were in New York. That would not be cool.

  “Tomorrow’s my birthday,” I said. “Number one on the list for tomorrow: find amazing outfit for the art opening.”

  “Yay,” Anna said, pulling the covers up to her chin. “It’ll be a great day. Sweet dreams.” She closed her eyes and was softly snoring in moments.

  The city lights in the window shimmered like candles on a birthday cake.

  Chapter Five

  My eyes popped open at 5:00 AM the next morning. I ran to the window. It was still dark outside. A hint of light poked through a small clump of clouds in the distance.

  “I’m fifteen!” I burst out. “And look where I am!” I danced across what space there was on the floor before I stubbed my toe on the corner of a table.

  “Ouch!”

  Below the floorboards, I heard a muffled yet still loud “shaddup!”

  Neither Anna nor Thomas stirred.

  My phone vibrated on top of the milk-carton end table. I glanced at the screen. Happy birthday to my baby girl!, my mom had written. There were a few other texts that she must have written the night before. I tossed the phone in my bag.

  With more rustling than was required, I took my notebook out of my bag. I sat on the corner of the futon and started formulating my list of 19.14 things to do that day. Next to the big Canvas art show in three days, this was the most important day of the trip. My fifteenth birthday in New York City was going to be perfect.

  I turned to a new page in my notebook and started scribbling down all the vintage stores I wanted to visit.

  Anna flopped over to face me. “You have a very loud pencil,” she said. Then she hugged me. “Happy birthday!”

  “Thank you!” I said, hugging her back. I felt full of sparkles.

  Around the corner, I could see Thomas’s toes twiddling. A moment later he emerged, hair adorably tousled.

  I swallowed. Forget it, Maddie, I said in my head.

  “Hey, birthday girl!” he said, his voice husky. “What’s on your list of 19.14 things to do today?”

  Oh, man. Why did he have to be so cute?

  I held up my notebook. “Clothes stores, Little Italy, Strand bookstore…”

  I trailed off. Thomas had turned around and wandered into the kitchen area. He was rummaging around in the cupboards.

  “Sorry, Maddie,” he said. “I need my coffee. Major zombie right now.”

  It took forever to leave the apartment. After cereal and showers, we finally hit the sidewalk.

  “It’s nine AM,” I said, checking my phone. “I hope we have time for everything.”

  “Maddie, you were the one who had to try on three different outfits and model them for us before we could go out,” Anna said.

  Thomas gave a soft snort. He looked nervous whenever Anna and I argued.

  “I had to look right!” I said.

  “You look great,” Anna said. “But I still think you’re going to regret wearing those shoes.”

  “Who are you, my mother?” I said. “I love these shoes.”

  I looked down at my white penny loafers. I had gotten them a week before. Okay, so they weren’t broken in yet, but penny loafers were the ideal walking shoes. Plus, they went perfectly with my plaid skirt and button-up blouse with the Peter Pan collar.

  My mom had insisted on buying me a pair of sneakers to walk around in. “You see all the New York career gals doing that,” she’d said. “They wear their sneakers to work and then put on their high heels at the office!” But there was no way I wanted to look like a fashion “don’t.”

  “Come on, girls!” Thomas said, gesturing for us to go. “Cut the chatter and let’s get at ’er. A gal doesn’t get to celebrate her birthday in the big city every day.”

  Anna took my hand and swung it.

  “W
here to first, b-day gal?” she said.

  “Screaming Mimi’s is just around the corner,” I said.

  “Let’s go find you that art show dress,” Thomas said. “I know nothing about clothes, but I’m here to offer moral support.”

  He has a girlfriend, I repeated in my head, trying to look cool. He has a girlfriend.

  “Great,” I said. I was full of birthday glee.

  Four stores later, though, I was still no closer to finding my perfect art-show outfit. I was nervous. Anna was combing through the racks with me. Even though I hadn’t found anything at that point, at least I was having fun.

  I came out of the dressing room in Shareen’s, a funky shop with vintage designer clothes. I had just tried on a long 1970s dress with bell sleeves and a big flower pattern.

  I twirled around, waiting for Anna’s and Thomas’s opinions.

  “Nice,” Thomas said. That’s what he said to everything I tried on. Sweet, but not much help.

  “I’m sorry,” Anna said. “But it looks like a housecoat.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, looking at the price tag. “It’s one hundred dollars, anyway.” The prices were way steeper than I expected. I thought I’d spend maybe $100 maximum on my art-show outfit, including shoes and accessories. Obviously, it was going to cost more than that.

  I tried on a Christian Dior suit. Price tag: $175.

  “Nice,” Thomas said, glancing up from his phone. He was playing Angry Birds. I could hear the music drifting out of the tiny speakers.

  “Are you going to a meeting of the board of directors?” Anna said. “Too corporate for an art opening.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” I said.

  “Can’t you wear that black dress from home?” Anna said. “That looked really artsy!” She raised her eyebrows and nodded, like she was hoping to make me agree.

  “No, I can’t!” I said.

  “It’s just that nothing here is working,” Anna said.

  “The biggest night of my life is in three days,” I said, too loudly. A couple of women flicking through the racks looked over at me. “The true beginning of my career. My introduction to the visual art community of New York. Meeting Louise Bergville, my idol. It’s. Really. Really. Important.”