“Milan, stop! Your closet is like five times cooler than mine. These boots simply can’t have you floored.”
“You’re under-selling your style. But I’m sure Bradley doesn’t think so.”
“Shhh! Milan.”
“I’m sorry.” I guess I wasn’t allowed to say his name. “No one’s here. Dimitri and you-know-who left like half an hour ago.”
“I don’t know how you live like this?”
I exhaled. “Lots of deep breathing.”
We walked to my room. I locked the door behind me. “Did you want anything to eat?”
“No, ate with my mom at the Food Hall.”
“I kind of like that place. Although I don’t like any of the shops in the basement at the Plaza.”
“We’re just not the target demographic, that’s all. One of the sales ladies looked to be my grandmother’s age. She freaked me out when she shoved this eye shadow in my face. All I can remember are her fingers jutting toward me and her saying, ‘Why don’t you try this?’” Cece puckered her lips to imitate the woman.
“That does look kind of scary!” I laughed.
“So, Bradley called me back. It was a little awkward. He was like, ‘You called me, so …’ and then he was silent.” She shrugged. This was the most animated I had ever seen Cece. “I was like, I don’t expect you to feel the same. I know I said I loved you a long time ago. But I still mean it. It would be cool if we could be friends. Then he said he had to go.”
“So he just hung up?”
“Pretty much. I never heard back from him. Then—” she paused. I was on the edge of my seat. “I saw him in the hallway on my way out. I was headed toward the east exit. You know you pass his locker if you go down the east hallway. I said ‘hey’ as I walked by him. He grabbed my arm.”
“What!” This was definitely a breaking point!
“My heart was thumping so loud, my entire chest cavity was vibrating,” Cece said. I laughed. “Then he spoke to me! He was like, ‘Hey, do you want to get something to eat?’ I was in shock. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.”
“Oh, gosh!”
“It gets worse! He was like, ‘Maybe we can stop some place on your way home, if you have time.’ I still couldn’t speak. Then he was like, ‘You have plans?’ ‘No,’ I said.”
“Good, at least you spoke up when it counted.”
“Don’t give me a high five yet. Right then, Henrietta stormed up the hallway.”
“Oh, no!”
“‘Where the hell have you been?’ is how she greeted him. ‘I told you to wait for me by Chem,’ she was screaming. He just rolled his eyes. Honestly, I was a little scared. ‘I texted you two times,’ she said. He was like, ‘I got them, I replied, am busy.’ ‘What?’ she said in this hissing type of way. Then she threw her cell phone at him. He jumped back, and it hit his locker.”
“Okay, I would be scared too,” I said.
“Then she was like, ‘And what are you even doing talking to her? I know this is not the reason you’re busy.’ He was like, ‘Why?’ Then she laughed.”
“Ewu!”
“I know, it was really sarcastic. Then Bradley was like, ‘I thought you got it.’ She was like, ‘Excuse me? Why are you speaking to me like this? And why is she still here?’ At that point, I was even asking myself that question. I just walked away slowly. I heard him say, ‘Look, I told you last night I’m done.’ She was like, ‘Are you kidding me?’”
“Oh, that is messed up, Cece.” I started to wonder why Cece wanted to be with that guy.
“‘I’m tired of you telling me what to do,’ he said. And something like, ‘I can’t pretend. I’m sick of you. You just don’t stop talking.’ Then I heard a loud slap. I turned around and I saw him clutching his face. It sounded really hard. ‘Deuces!’ he yelled.”
“Did you drive home with him?” I asked.
“No. I was with my mom. Around 6, he texted me, apologizing. He said he was sorry for that. He tried to deal with it last night. ‘I hope you still want to talk to me.’ Can you believe he put that down?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think I should do?”
I didn’t reply.
By now, we had made our way to the window seat. The moon was out in full force.
“It’s a full moon. Crazy things happen on these days,” I said. Cece smiled. “I believe in love … you know. Maybe it can be worked out,” I said.
I crossed my fingers. I wasn’t sure. But I could see the stress on Cece’s face. I knew if it were Noel, regardless of what happened, I would try. In love, you have to try.
Chapter 15 The Swap
I walked across 57th Street, past the Park. Then I headed up Columbus. The sun was beaming. I had on an oversize floppy straw hat, dark, Jackie O sunglasses, and my uniform. I had stopped home briefly before heading out to my doctor’s appointment. When I arrived home, things were most unusual. Not only had Cara beat me to the apartment after school, but our seeing each other was less than a friendly encounter and more of a curious, maybe even suspicious, run-in.
Daddy’s office was at the front of the house. Usually I came in, placed my keys on the welcome table, and then put my books and my handbag in the front closet. Both my parents used to keep their coats and accessories in that closet when I was a girl. About a year after the accident, Daddy vacated it. Since then, my stuff had found residence there—at least, my outerwear and school necessities did.
I came in, did my usual, and closed up shop. I passed Daddy’s office on my way to the kitchen. I grabbed my flavored water. Strawberry mango was my favorite. I reached for an apple and made a mad dash for my room. It was on the way to my room that the idea of walking to my doctor’s office occurred to me. My watch read a quarter past three. There was no time to change. I grabbed the hat, the glasses, and scurried.
When I was walking to the front door, I noticed Daddy’s office door was slightly ajar. I knew Daddy would never be home that early. Earlier, the door had been completely open. So why was it sort of closed now? I took a few steps toward the door. In the window reflection, I saw Cara standing behind his desk!
I swung the door open. She jumped back. A first! “What are you doing in here?”
“Oh. Hah. Uh, I was just getting some copy paper for Dimitri, sweetie.” She had a few papers in her hand. “This is probably not enough.” She turned around and grabbed some paper off the printer and mixed them all together.
“Oh, wait!” I grabbed the papers out of her hand. I checked the bottom sheets. They were blank. “I’m expecting a fax.” I handed the papers back to her.
“You should get an inbox for any official business,” she winked. She walked to the door. “I’m sure they’ll turn up.” She smiled. I walked past her.
“I bet you they will,” I said.
“Will you be back later?”
“Of course.” I do live here, I thought. What was her excuse? “Until then, sunshine.” I gave her two double kisses and left. I couldn’t let her know I was beginning to hate her guts.
There was just something about her. I spent the entire 20-minute walk trying to figure out what she wanted in Daddy’ office. I arrived at the doctor’s office. My stomach was fired up again. The six-year-old next to me was watching Mickey’s Playhouse on his iPad. I remember when Mickey Mouse wasn’t in 3D. What happened to old-school Mickey, like the Mickey with the magician’s hat? Or the Prince and the Pauper Mickey?
I had to ask Sierra what she thought about Cara being in my Dad’s office. Part of me hesitated. But did I have a choice? When I took out my phone, I noticed she had texted me. “Hey, do you follow Henrietta?”
“As if?” I texted.
“Geez, girl! Well, seems she has a little tiff going on with Cece,” she texted.
“How do you mean?”
“She tweeted this today: Warning, step back, apparently good girls give up for that,” she texted.
“So?”
“Then Bradley tweeted: Deuces!
Then Henrietta tweeted back: He’s a loser! Cece can have him.”
“Oh, no!” I texted.
“She put C on blast! Should we send it to C?”
“She might get mad. Why don’t you tweet something like: ‘Stop the nonsense. Hearsay is cheap.’ Try and stand up for her,” I texted.
“Um, I don’t want to be on Henrietta’s hit list.”
“Really?” I texted.
“I don’t want to be in the middle of this. You should send it.”
“If someone tweeted this about me and you didn’t tell me, I would be hot,” I texted.
“True. Will send it to her.”
“At doc’s. Hit you back later,” I texted.
“Milan,” a nurse approached me.
“Hi,” I followed her to the examination room.
“Hi, Milan. How are you, sweetheart?” Dr. Pierce gave me a hug and a kiss.
“I’m well. How are you?” I said. She looked at her chart. She flipped through the questionnaire I had filled out.
“Why are you here today, sweetheart?” she signed.
“We don’t have to sign. It’s cool.”
She looked at me like I had just told her the sky wasn’t blue. “Is there something I don’t know about?” she signed and said.
“I can read lips just fine,” I said.
“Okay. Well … is it okay if I sign? Just for me. I was sort of excited to see your name on the patient list today. One, because I hardly ever see you and you used to be one of my favorite patients! Two, I never to get practice my signing.”
“Okay. If it’s our secret,” I smiled.
“Great!” she signed.
“I get these really bad stomach aches.”
“How often?”
“I’ve had a couple this week?” I said.
“Okay, lie down. Does it hurt here?” She poked around the middle of tummy.
“Yes!”
“What about the lower abdomen?” She poked around some more.
“No, not really.”
“Does it hurt after you eat?”
“Today, for example, I didn’t eat lunch. And it was hurting on my way here,” I said.
“So it hurts when you don’t eat.”
“Also, last weekend, it was killing me, and I did eat,” I said.
“How many meals a day are you eating?”
“Two, maybe three, if we count a latte.”
“Every day?”
“Definitely two,” I replied.
“Some people need to eat more frequently. And a latte is not a meal. Eating less acidic foods may help. I’d like to refer you to a nutritionist to help create a diet that will help neutralize the acid in your stomach. You need to go there next week. I’m not going to prescribe anything just yet. I’m going to reluctantly recommend an over-the-counter antacid. You can’t use this more than twice per week. I feel like your job might be causing stress.”
“I think it’s the sleep. I get tired sometimes,” I said.
“Well, you are new to modeling?”
“Not really, I’ve been doing it for over a year.”
“You are definitely getting a lot of exposure and experience, sweetheart. Your mom would be proud. You have modeling, you have school, you have friends, and it’s a big plate. How often do you exercise?” She searched through my chart. “It says here five days a week.”
“I have gym every day,” I said.
“How long is gym?”
“Almost an hour, but after they take attendance and I get dressed, it’s like 30 minutes.”
“You talk to your friends during gym?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Okay, I need you to exercise by yourself, three times a week, for 30 minutes each time.”
“Okay.”
“Have you done yoga before?”
“Yes, I do yoga in gym,” I said.
“What do you think about doing yoga three times a week?”
“I could try.”
“Good. I like yoga because at the end they do meditation. It’s good for stress busting. I need you to come back in four weeks.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Now, you know, Milan, when you were little, Glenda, rest her soul, she used to bring you to church with her. You used to play with my daughter, Malorie—I don’t know if you remember her.”
“Sure, I remember Malorie. We went to junior high together.”
“That’s right.”
“Tell her I said hi.”
“I will. You are always welcome at church. We are having a youth social in two weeks. Check it out. It is on the website.” She pulled out a business card for the church with her name on it from her white coat pocket. She was a deaconess. I was quiet for a moment. I once read in a book on the history of Native Americans that silence was a sign of respect. Great Chiefs would wait a period of silence before speaking if someone had spoken before them. This was because they were in contemplation. It’s not that I didn’t want to consider it. I was unsure about God sometimes. I knew he existed. I still hadn’t figured out why he had taken Mama away.
The walk home was somewhat more pleasant than the walk to. “I’m home early,” Merek texted me.
“How was the trip?” I texted
“Can I see you? It was cool. Kinda miss you.”
“I don’t know,” I texted.
“Tonight?” There was that acid again. The walk should’ve counted for exercise.
“No.”
“Why?”
I wanted to make him happy. I just didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what to reply. “Can we talk?”
“When?”
He called my phone. I didn’t answer. “In person.” I texted him.
“When?!!” he texted.
“Tomorrow. Or, like we planned, Sunday,” I texted.
“I’m just trying to treat you good. Be real. Why do you want to ignore me?”
I stopped at Alice & Wonderland’s Tea Cup. I was on the hook. “Come meet me now for tea,” I texted.
“Where?”
“Lex, near our fave deli.”
“I’ll be there. Wet kisses.”
He arrived two cups of Earl Grey tea later. I watched from the window as he parked his mom’s Cayenne. Watching him walk up to the table made me kind of nervous. I stood up. He hugged and kissed me. I felt slightly overwhelmed. I had put him at the back of my mind.
“How are you, princess?” he smiled.
“I wish.”
“What?” he asked.
“I just came from the doctor’s office. I’ve been having these stomach aches.”
“Oh.” His whole face changed.
“I thought I was in for it. But now I think I can take care of it,” I said.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better. Tea helps. I have to join yoga.”
“My mom does yoga on the West side. This place called Yure. She says it’s the best yoga in the city.”
“What do you know about yoga?” I asked.
“I only remember the name because she’s always talking about it.”
“What does she say? ‘Oh, Yure. It’s simply spectacular.’” I threw my hand on my forehead for dramatic effect. He laughed. I laughed. “Your mother is so sophisticated and proper. She is really cool!”
“Not as cool as you.” He gave me a wet kiss.
“I have to look at the yoga schedule,” I said.
“Yoga will help?”
“She said it would be good to meditate.”
“You have a lot of stress? Every time my father says something my mother doesn’t like, she says, ‘I have to meditate this stress away.’” We both laughed.
“Your mom is the best!” I glanced out the window, thinking about what things would be like if I was with Merek forever. Had I even considered it? Before I could catch my breath, I saw Dimitri and Cara walking toward Bloomingdale’s. I brushed the hair away from my face and took a deep breath.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.<
br />
“I need my own apartment.”
“One semester away from your wish, princess,” he said.
“True. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“That’s why you have me. I’m crazy outside the box!” He laughed. Uh! The smile that could melt a snowman in an ice storm.
“This is cool, but how about we get an ice cream?”
“Yes! Again—I hadn’t thought of it. But it is just what I want.” There he goes pushing my buttons, I thought. The more I liked him, the sadder I began to feel. I felt a little disloyal. With every smile, was he washing away my memory of Noel? We walked to the car hand in hand. I turned to him to ask him which ice cream shop we should visit. Before I could say anything, he kissed me. Then he brushed my hair back away from my face.
“Maybe we’ll go stop at the yoga studio on the way home, baby?” he asked.
“Okay.” It was then I felt for the first time that I could love him. He opened my door. I slipped into the car. Once he got into the car, he tapped me.
“Milan!”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know … I was talking to you. It’s like you were ignoring me.” Had I forgotten so quickly? He was in love with Milan, not me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No worries.” He kissed my forehead. He smiled. I smiled.
It had been dark for more than three hours by the time I got home. I was so tired. I felt a little like I had been kidnapped. When Merek had an agenda, there was no steering him another way. He almost had me at the Four Seasons. I had to threaten to jump out of the car at a red light. I couldn’t say it didn’t feel like he was trying to make me fall in love with him. I shook my head at the thought. If that was on his agenda, I’d have a struggle on my hands. We had grabbed a bite at Kent Coffee & Chocolate. It was so hard not to love spending time with Merek.
My feelings of rapture were abruptly interrupted at the sight of Cara and Dimitri fumbling across the foyer with ice cream sundaes in tow.
I blew past them. “Hi, darling!” Cara said.
“Hi,” I flashed a fake smile. “Dimitri,” I said. He just rolled his eyes. I hustled to my room. I was sure to lock the door behind me. I grabbed a pair of keys from my jewelry box. I ran to my desk. The bottom drawer was locked. I opened it. Inside was a small, bolted-down safe. I put my finger on the lock for a finger scan. Inside were copies like my will, trust documents, my father’s will, deeds to the trusts’ properties. But most important was the copy of the deed to Mama’s apartment down on Waverly, right by NYU. This was going to be my college apartment. At least, that was the plan I’d concocted. I hadn’t even submitted my application. I guessed what they said about best-laid plans were true. I never expected it would come to this.
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