by Haley Pearce
I sighed heavily and pulled myself up off the bed. Staggering somewhat, I made my way to the shower. I wanted to at least be clean when I apologized to Kyle and my roommates for running off on them like I had. I had quite a bit of explaining to do, after my little escapade. I needed a hot shower, a New York bagel, one hell of a cup of coffee, and my three best friends in the world. But those keys to my happiness were all close at hand. Somehow, despite the night before, I still felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
* * * * *
Chapter Seven
* * * * *
That Spring passed in fits and starts, as New York Springs often do. The persistent bouts of cold weather gave way eventually to a fleeting stretch of warm mornings and breezy nights. I spent most of the season camped out under the blossoming trees in Washington Square Park with my nose buried in book after book as I prepared to complete my first year of graduate school. I wanted nothing more than to toss aside my studies and luxuriate in the new, fresh air that was a relief after such a difficult winter. But there was no way that I was going to let the ball drop on school after all the work I’d put in that year.
I've always been an excellent student, ever since I was a kid. Grasping ideas and concepts had come naturally to me, and doing poorly in academics had always seemed like a moral failing to me. Perhaps the encouragement I received from my grade school teachers had been particularly intoxicating because I’d felt, at that point, that my parents couldn’t care less about my academic career. Knowledge and imagination were there for me when everything else in my young life was a mess. It was the least I could do to be as faithful to my academic pursuits as I could be. I’d certainly given up a lot for the sake of my schooling—play dates and softball practice when I was a kid, and lounging about New York City in various adorable sundresses as an adult.
Still, there were a few moments throughout the season that were nothing but unencumbered bliss. Dara, Ashlee and I finally got down to exploring the city in a way that we hadn’t all winter. We saw The Cloisters, Governor’s Island, every park and botanical garden and zoo that we could. The girls knew that I’d be away all summer, and wanted to squeeze in as much quality time with me as they could before I left. Or at least, that’s what they’d told me was going on.
The last week of May was perfect in a way that I had never known a season could be. In New York, summer and winter both come faster and last longer than you might expect. I could tell, during those last days of May, that the wickedly oppressive heat that we had experienced the summer we moved in would be back with a vengeance. Luckily, I was heading off to Paris on the very first day of June, to begin my summer long stay in paradise. The thought of my internship had sustained me through every all nighter and nerve wracking exam that I encountered. And each day that it ticked closer, the more excited I got. The only thing that I felt sorry about was that I wouldn’t have anyone to enjoy Paris with. I’d miss my friends terribly, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. I assumed that was why Dara and Ashlee had been so intent on spending time with me that Spring.
We were gearing up for our last big night out before I left, and our tiny apartment was heavy with the heat of three hair dryers blasting, as well as a thick cloud of hairspray that had exploded between our bedrooms. We were going to take a nice long walk along the Highline Park overlooking the Hudson River at sunset, then grab some dinner in the West Village, and then down to Little Italy for some authentic gelato. We steered clear of any French cuisine while we picked out our locations. After all, I’d be having my fill of that soon enough!
It was hard to believe, as I pulled on a pretty blue sundress that night, that I was going to be on a plane the very next morning. My body was practically vibrating with anticipation. I put the finishing touches on my makeup and made my way out to the common area. Ashlee and Dara were out there waiting for me, which was a bit peculiar in and of itself. These were not girls who were ever ready to leave the house on time, let alone before me. They were wearing matching grins, and looked as though they were hiding something from me, and poorly.
“What’s up, guys?” I asked cautiously, edging into the room.
“Well,” Ashlee said, bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of her feet, “We have a surprise for you, Madison.”
“Oh dear,” I sighed. Their surprises tended to either be fantastic or appalling. I hope that this one would prove to fall under the former category.
“Don’t worry!” Dara said quickly. “We think that you’re going to be a big fan of this one.”
“Ok,” I said. “What is it?”
They traded devious, excited looks and turned back to me, grinning ear to ear. I looked down at what Ashlee held proffered in her hand. It was a shiny new key, dangling from a cheesy Eiffel Tower keychain. I looked back up at them, not comprehending.
“What’s it for?” I asked.
“Our apartment,” Dara smiled.
“Did we need a spare?” I asked, looking around at our home.
“No,” Ashlee laughed, “It’s for our apartment in Paris!”
I stared dumbly at them for a long moment before it clicked. “You’re...you’re coming to Paris?” I breathed. They nodded eagerly, waiting to see what my reaction would be. I flew at them, squealing with joy, wrapping them both into an enormous bear hug. “But how?” I asked, giddy.
“I’m taking a scene study class over there this summer, and they’re going to spot me airfare!” Ashlee said happily.
“And my dad thinks that I need to be more worldly, or something,” Dara rolled her eyes. “We know that your internship is providing you with housing, so we decided to find a place in the same district!”
“You mean the same arrondissement,” Ashlee corrected her.
“Well look at you!” I laughed.
“You know what they say. ‘When in Rome’!” Ashlee said.
“When in Paris, you mean,” Dara countered.
We collapsed into heap of excited laugher, shoulders shaking with the force our of glee. I couldn’t believe it! I would be spending the summer in Paris, employed by the best international marketing firm in the world, and just a stone’s throw away from my two best friends on the planet to boot? I truly felt like the most blessed girl in the universe.
A knock on the door distracted us, and Dara escaped our joyous huddle to answer it. The door swung open to reveal Kyle, as it often did. He looked around at our big, smiling faces and cocked an eyebrow at us.
“What are you clowns so happy about?” he asked.
“We’re going to Paris!” Ashlee cried, giving him a big hug.
“We?” he asked. “You mean you’re all going?”
“Yeah!” I said. “Isn’t it awesome?”
“It’s...but...” Kyle sputtered, looking for the world like a puppy who’d just been kicked. “What about me?”
Us girls exchanged baffled looks. We hadn’t thought about Kyle when we decided to traipse off to Paris. Maybe he could still come along? But Dara smiled coyly at him and said, “Look at it this way, Kyle. Now you’re going to actually have to meet girls besides us in the city. You know...girls who might actually want to sleep with you, ever.”
“Ah,” Kyle said gamely, “I see what this is all about. You have to go to Paris because you’ve already slept with every man in New York, right?”
Dara punched Kyle playfully in the arm, and I turned away as Ashlee let out an appreciative chuckle. Lately I had been more sensitive than ever talking about sex. At the beginning of the summer, in the wake of my snagging my internship, the four of us had gone out to celebrate my success at a neighborhood bar. I usually never drink, not even a drop, but that night I’d let myself go wild. I couldn’t even say how many drinks I put away that night, but it was certainly much more than I ever should have. I had gotten so drunk that I allowed myself to go home with a wealthy, boyishly handsome Wall Street type I’d never met. And a one-night-stand was something that I had never done before.
I’d st
umbled back to Wall Street’s apartment and gotten into bed with him. That much I could remember clearly. I could also remember the way he’d kissed me all the way down my body, all the way down to that place I never let any man near with his mouth. He had certainly known what he was doing, and had drawn forth my very first orgasm that night. I’d writhed in his unfamiliar bed and came for him, this person I’d never met before. And as I fell asleep in his unfamiliar arms that night, it was bliss. Until the next morning, of course.
My hangover had been massive and unforgiving, but the shame that I felt had been much, much worse. I’d staggered from his home without leaving a note, promptly vomited into his front bushes, and eventually made it home again. No number of scorching hot showers had been enough to negate the humiliation I felt. I must have looked like such an idiot, tottering home with him. He must have thought me the stupidest, most careless person on the entire planet. I did not like to appear stupid in any way, my sterling report cards dating back to preschool were evidence enough of that. But to look stupid in that particular way? It had shattered me for weeks. I still winced whenever one of my roommates mentioned a fling of theirs. They were kind enough not to press me about Wall Street’s attentions, once they’d discerned that he hadn’t forced me into anything. I assured them that nothing like that had happened, that I had been a willing participant in the whole thing. So they told me they were there to talk if I wanted and we left it at that.
Well, except for Kyle. After that, he’d been a little strange to me. He had never approved of my interest in marketing, being a borderline socialist and a bleeding heart. As many times as I tried to explain that I wasn’t in it for the money, he still wouldn’t hear me out. I was sure that going home with a frat-like Wall Street type had infuriated him. Kyle had always nursed a little crush on me, so it was natural to feel jealous. But I think that the man’s expensive taste and thick wallet had added insult to injury. Maybe some distance between me and Kyle that summer would be just what the doctor ordered for our friendship.
“Let’s get this night started!” Ashlee said, gathering her things. “We have a lot of New York to experience, if it’s going to tide us over all summer.”
“Can I at least tag along tonight?” Kyle asked, “Or have I been voted off the island?”
“You can come,” Dara said, “As long as you promise not to stow away in one of our suitcases when we leave for Paris.”
“I promise,” Kyle said. “You have my word.”
We set off into the night, the four of us, and headed for the Hudson River. My heart was full of love for my friends and for the city that I now could call my home. The roaring traffic of Houston Street, the crowds of every type of person you could imagine, the impossible glittering skyscrapers all mingled in my vision to create a kaleidoscopic spectacle. I wondered, as we made our way through the city, how Paris could ever compete with all of this? The City of Lights had a tough act to follow, now that I’d lived in New York. Still, I could tell by the flutter in my stomach whenever I thought of it that Paris would be important to me. I just couldn’t quite tell how, yet.
The evening passed in an array of lights and colors. We filled ourselves with wonderful food, and feasted our eyes with the most beautiful sights in the city. Nothing was left unexplored or unexpressed between us—it was truly the perfect last hurrah before a long time away. We fell into our beds at the end of the night exhausted and happy, knowing what the next day held in store. It was much easier getting up at the crack of dawn to catch a flight with company afoot. Dara, Ashlee and I left our apartment together at the break of dawn, looking wistfully into our little abode as we said goodbye for the summer.
After seemingly endless security lines and some crappy airport food, we finally boarded our plane to Paris. Snatches of conversation caught my ear as I settled into my seat. The French language still sent little chills up my spine every time I heard it. The words flowed so beautifully, it was like every syllable was wrapped in silk. I couldn’t wait to be immersed in those beautiful, harmonious rhythms. I spoke hardly a word of French, but maybe three months abroad would change that!
I grabbed onto Dara and Ashlee’s hands as the plane roared down the runway. I’d only ever been on a plane once in my life, to visit New Mexico for my grandmother’s funeral. And the fact that we would be over the ocean for most of the trip certainly didn’t put me at ease. I knew, realistically, that our plane was not likely to go down over the Atlantic, but I still couldn’t quite relax. I didn’t even have the will to enjoy my complementary peanuts.
“Here,” Ashlee said, producing a little vial from her pocket. “Have some of this.”
“Breath mints?” I asked.
“Dramamine,” Ashlee answered. “It’ll knock you right out for the flight.”
“Oh...That’s OK,” I said, waving her away. I wasn’t any more keen on drugs than I was on booze, those days.
“It’s just to help you sleep,” she insisted, dropping a pill into my hand. “I promise.”
I looked at the thing suspiciously. Ashlee had this talent for talking me into things that I didn’t always know how to account for. Still, my persistent flight anxiety was quickly becoming too much for me to handle. I popped the little tablet into my mouth and waited for it to take hold. And take hold it did—before I knew it I had fallen off into a deep slumber, and we were touching down once more. We finally made it, after months of waiting, to Paris! I could hardly contain myself as we stepped off the plane and made our way through the airport. My ears were full of the beautiful language, and I felt a deep, hot anticipation begin to build within me. This trip was going to be very important to me, I could tell. I wondered what adventures Paris had in store.
* * * * *
Chapter Eight
* * * * *
As we stepped out into the open air, it felt as though we had touched down on another planet. It wasn’t that the city was so incredibly different from New York, or any other city in America. It was the small differences that made my new surroundings so exciting. So foreign. The layout of the long boulevards, the logos on everyday items in the shops, the slight differences in how people were dressed, all came together to create an effect of things being just slightly new, slightly different than what I’d always known. Dara hailed a taxi with ease, being fluent in French after a long career at private school certainly helped. As we sped along through the streets of Paris, my eyes grew wider and wider. I couldn’t believe all of the gorgeous sights that were spread throughout the sprawling metropolis. We whizzed past one architectural wonder after another, each more breathtaking than the last. And the craziest thing to me was that everyone was walking past these historical treasures like it was nothing!
Of course, for the locals, it was totally commonplace to pass the Arc de Triomphe on the way to work, but for me it was unbelievable. I knew that I hadn’t been so star stuck when I’d arrived in New York. There were landmarks in the Big Apple, to be sure, but here, the old and the new blended so well to create a seamless tapestry of culture and beauty. I’d been looking forward to taking in the sights, but what I realized upon landing was that Paris itself was one huge sight, one living and breathing organism just like New York. For some reason, that idea was so much more overwhelming to take in.
Our car finally came to a halt, and I stepped out onto the sidewalk feeling drunk on the city already. I peered up at the apartment building before us and, sure enough, the number over the door matched my housing assignment. I looked at Dara and Ashlee, who were looking at the building across the street.
“Are you serious?” I said. “You guys found a sublet in the building directly across from mine?”
“We sure did,” Ashlee smiled, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulders.
“What can we say?” Dara said. “It would be too painful to be that far away from you for long.”
I smiled at my remarkable best friends, and we parted ways for a moment to explore our new accommodations. I trudged up the stairs of
my new home, smiling at the fact that even in Paris I was living in a third story walkup. But every snarky thought left my mind as I pushed open the front door of my loft and took in the space. It was a bright, airy studio apartment, with a small bed pushed against the far wall, a stove top and sink on the other, and two huge glass doors that led out to a tiny balcony.
I dropped my bags and made for the bed, flopping down onto the little springy mattress like it was a king sized featherbed. The afternoon sunlight sent a dappled glow dancing against the hardwood floor, and the billowing curtains blew slightly in the breeze coming in from the balcony. The kitchen was charmingly antiquated, and I could see a claw-legged bathtub in the tiny bathroom that I was already aching to soak in. Looking around, it was hard to believe that I really got to live in such a wonderful space for a summer. I pulled myself off the bed and opened the doors to the balcony, stepping out into the early summer air.
Looking down across the sweeping streets of Paris, I could only imagine what my younger self would have thought, had she been able to see me then. As a teenager, I’d felt completely oppressed by my hometown of West Chester, by the cruelty of my father and the weakness of my mother. But still, even then I had sworn to break free of all that held me back. I had never given myself the option of not living up to my fullest potential. Now that I was here, I wasn’t going to let anything slow me down. This trip was not just some frivolous jaunt for me, it was a serious step in my career. It was one more thing that I didn’t share with my family, one more experience separating me from my past.