by S. H. Kolee
"So, what do you want to do on your first official day as a New Yorker?"
I practically jumped up and down in excitement. "I don't know. Maybe we can just walk around and explore the neighborhood. I can't even think about unpacking right now."
"Sure. I'll show you around the 'hood, and then we can stop by Max's Tavern. It's a bar a couple of blocks away."
I looked at myself in the mirror that was above the dresser in my bedroom and grimaced. "Let me try to make myself look like a human being first. My hair looks like I stuck my finger in an outlet."
Claire laughed as she walked out of my room. "Sure, take your time."
I opened one of my suitcases and fished out my toiletries as well as a fresh pair of jeans and a tank top. Claire was flipping through a magazine when I made my way into the bathroom. It was a relief to change into clothes that weren't sticking to me. It was even more of a relief to wash off the grime of traveling from my face and put on fresh make-up.
"Tada," I announced as I stepped out of the bathroom. "This is as good as it's going to get today, but at least I don't feel gross anymore."
"You look fine," Claire replied as she dropped the magazine and stood. She was wearing shorts that accentuated just how long her legs were and a cute little tee that looked like it was sized for a toddler. It was a good thing that Claire was such a nice girl. It could be easy to be jealous of someone so effortlessly gorgeous.
Claire took me to all her local haunts and she seemed to know everyone on a first name basis. She had that easy charm that made everyone want to smile and talk to her. Claire was a good guide, explaining the different neighborhoods in New York and showing me where all the important places were, like the nearest grocery store and pharmacy. It was exciting just to walk around and soak up the atmosphere. And the East Village had plenty of atmosphere. It was a little grittier and a little dirtier than the New York I had seen through Carrie Bradshaw's eyes, but it didn't make me love it any less.
We walked over to Union Square and wandered through the farmer's market, stopping to buy cups of cold apple cider to quench our thirst. We sat down on a bench to take a break and watch the people walking by.
"So how do you like your new neighborhood so far?" Claire asked, leaning back on the bench.
"I know I keep saying I love everything, but I do. I love it. It's so different from Maryland, or even D.C. It sounds clichéd, but it just seems so alive. I feel like I can be a different person here."
Claire raised her eyebrows. "What's wrong with the person you are now?"
I sighed as I thought it over. Claire's mother was friends with mine through some women's charity group back in Maryland, so I was sure Claire knew about the failed engagement. We both came from Merrittsville, a small town in Maryland, although we had never met growing up since Claire had gone to boarding school. In Merrittsville, my running off had apparently been breaking news.
"Well, you know about Sean and me, right?" I continued when Claire nodded. "It's not that I didn't love him. I did love him. I mean, I still do. It just wasn't the right kind of love. It wasn't the kind of love that made me excited to see him, the kind that made me miss him when we were apart. We were together since we were fifteen years old, and not once did I get butterflies around him. I mean, I liked Sean and I was attracted to him. I used to think that was enough. Now I know it isn't."
"Well..." Claire said, drawing out the word. "I can understand that. But what does that have to do with you being a different person?"
"The person that was resigned to living a life with no passion was boring. She followed all the rules, did all the right things. She almost got married to someone just because everyone expected it, including herself."
I turned to Claire. "I can't be that person anymore. I'm not sure who I'm going to be now, but I know I'm definitely not going to be her."
Claire gave me a small smile. "There's nothing wrong with trying to change things you don't like about yourself, but I don't think you need to wipe the slate clean. I know we've only talked on the phone a few times and we just met today, but the Emma Mills I know seems pretty okay."
I looked up at the trees overhead, the branches swaying with the slight breeze. I didn't want to be just pretty okay. I wanted to be someone that would make my mark in this world.
I laughed as I turned back to Claire, shaking off my serious thoughts. "Enough with all this heavy talk. You'd think I was going through an identity crisis or something. Tell me about you. You're in a Broadway show now, right?"
Claire gave a wry smile. "It's so off-Broadway that even saying it's off-off-Broadway would be a stretch. But it's a great role in a play about a woman who can't decide between two men in her life and how she figures out who to choose."
"And you play the woman?"
Claire nodded. "It's playing in a small theater not too far from our apartment. That's what I mean about it being so off-Broadway. You should come see it sometime. It runs every Friday and Saturday night."
"I'd love to come see it! My first show in New York!"
Claire laughed at my excited expression. "Don't get your hopes up. We don't come out singing and wearing cat masks."
I scrunched up my nose in protest. "I've never even seen Cats."
Claire took the last sip of her apple cider and crumpled up her cup. "What about you? When do you start your new job?"
"Tomorrow, bright and early," I groaned. I had tried to come a few days earlier, but my mother had insisted that I stay in Maryland until the last possible second. She feared that I was going to be raped and killed in some alleyway of New York. When I explained to her that New York didn't have any alleys, she had changed the scenario to a gutter. As a result, I didn’t leave until Sunday morning and now I only had one glorious afternoon and evening until Monday.
"Where's your office?"
"It's on Lexington and 45th," I answered. "Is that easy to get to from our place?"
"You're lucky. Since it's on the east side, you can just take the green line up."
I bit my lip as I thought about the complicated subway map I had perused for hours before. "I've mapped my route out already. I have it memorized since I obsessed about it so much. I'm just paranoid that I'll take the wrong subway and end up in Queens or something."
"Relax," Claire said laughing. "The subway system is super easy. I'll go over it with you later." She gave me a wink. "Queens isn't such a bad place to go anyways. It has some killer Indian food."
"I love Indian food." I frowned as I thought about it. "Actually, I love all food. That's the problem."
"I don't think you have anything to worry about," she replied, glancing at me. "Curvy is in." I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed at her perusal. I would never boldly look someone over and comment on their figure.
"Thanks, I guess."
Claire laughed loudly. "It was supposed to be a compliment. You have a tiny waist and great curves. That's a good thing."
I relaxed although I didn't agree. I would kill to be tall and thin like Claire. Oh well, I guess we couldn't all be ravishing beauties. I gave myself a mental shake at my thoughts. This wasn't the time to compare myself to others and find myself lacking. The new Emma Mills was confident and secure in herself, body image included.
"Well, this curvy broad would love something harder than apple cider. Didn't you mention a bar near our apartment?"
Claire jumped up, throwing her crumpled cup in a nearby trash can. "Max's Tavern. I go there most Sundays. It's a laid back bar and a great place to just hang out. Let's go."
We walked back to our neighborhood at a leisurely pace, enjoying the last rays of the Sunday afternoon.
"This is it," Claire said as we reached a bar with dark wood paneling on the front. Max's Tavern looked like it had been there since before prohibition, looking well worn, but still gleaming with obvious care. "This isn't a hipster bar, but that's why I like it."
The bar was decently full when we stepped inside and Claire waved at the b
artender, calling out a greeting. Of course she would know the bartender.
"There they are," Claire said as she grabbed my arm, dragging me over to a table that was already occupied. There were two guys and one girl sitting there and they smiled when they caught sight of Claire. The girl was a replica of Claire, except she was the dark-haired version. With flowing dark brown hair and large hazel eyes, I was beginning to think that I was going to get a complex. I guess that's what happened when you hung out with actors.
The guys were nothing to sneeze at either. One was blond and stocky, bulging with muscles that were clearly evident from his tight t-shirt. His nose looked as if it had been broken a few times, but instead of detracting from his appearance, it added to his rugged masculine good looks.
The other guy sitting at the table was movie-star handsome. His dark brown hair was a little shaggy, but instead of making him look unkempt, it added to his appeal, making him seem boyishly charming. His nose looked as if it had never come close to being broken and his dimples were in clear view as he smiled at our approach. He wasn't muscle bound like his friend, but his lean frame was more appealing. More my type.
I shook my head at the thought. I hadn't moved to New York to fall into another relationship. This was my time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Besides, who was I kidding? This man before me was way too beautiful for comfort. With Claire and the leggy brunette around, I was sure I wouldn't have to worry about him being overly interested in me.
"Hi, guys," Claire said as she approached the table. "This is Emma. She's my new roommate, the one I told you about." She turned to me as she made introductions. "Emma, this is Jackson, Nathan and Mia."
I smiled as everyone greeted me enthusiastically. Jackson, the Grecian god who apparently had manners as well, pulled over two chairs from another table for us.
"Hi, Emma. How do you like New York so far?" Mia asked as we sat down. She was smiling widely and despite being drop-dead gorgeous, she seemed sincere and friendly. I had to stop equating beauty with cattiness. It was just as bad as someone judging me for not having legs that went on for miles.
"I love it!" I couldn't seem to stop gushing about my new city. Maybe the pretty new sheen of it would wear off after awhile, but at the moment, I was still enjoying the novelty of it all. "Claire's been taking me around the neighborhood and showing me around. I can't believe I'm finally here."
"You moved up from Maryland, right?" Jackson asked, looking genuinely inquisitive. I found it hard to look directly at him. It was like looking directly at the sun and I almost needed to squint my eyes against his good looks. I really needed to get a handle on myself.
"Yup. I grew up there and was living near D.C. for a while. It's so different from New York."
"What made you decide to move up here?" Mia asked, unknowingly bringing up an uncomfortable topic. The last thing I wanted to do was spill my messy history to strangers.
"I just felt like a change of pace. I've lived in the Maryland and D.C. area my whole life, except for when I went to college in Chicago. I thought it was time for something different."
The waitress came over to take our drink orders, interrupting the conversation.
"Hi, Claire. What do you want?"
"I'll take a Yuengling." Claire turned to me. "Maggie, this is my new roommate, Emma. She just got into town today."
Maggie, who looked about our age, gave me a wide smile. "Welcome! Hopefully you'll become a regular here just like these guys. I can't seem to peel them out of those seats most Sundays."
"Thanks, Maggie. I'm not sure if I can measure up when it comes to drinking. Two beers and I'm on the floor. And on that note, I'll take a Yuengling too."
As Maggie walked away to get our beers, Nathan slammed his hand down on the table, startling me, but he just grinned at me. "Now that's what I like. A cheap date. How come every girl I meet can drink me under the table?" He patted his pocket. "It hurts me right here."
Claire rolled her eyes. "And they said chivalry was dead."
"It's not dead. It was just trampled on by unappreciative women." Nathan was attempting to sound lighthearted, but I could hear a trace of seriousness in his tone.
Jackson leaned in, quirking his mouth. "Don't pay attention to Nathan. He got dumped recently and he's still processing through his 'women are evil' phase."
"Sorry to hear that, Nathan," I said sympathetically, happy that I hadn't fueled the fire by revealing I had broken my engagement less than a month before the wedding.
Nathan sighed dramatically, crossing his arms against his chest. "I should've seen it coming. When Sandy told me she wanted to take tennis lessons, I should've stopped it."
"Nathan, how many times do I have to tell you?" Claire groaned. Maggie came back with the beers and she paused to take a long swig. "Sandy didn't cheat on you just because she hired a tennis instructor. She cheated on you because she's a skank."
Nathan shook his head emphatically. "Nope. It was the tennis instructor. He was some European douchebag who charmed her with his accent. If it wasn't for him, we'd still be together." He turned abruptly to Jackson who had been listening to the conversation with a half-grin on his face. "If you start dating a girl, don't let her take tennis lessons, especially from a douchebag European instructor."
I tried to suppress a laugh, but unfortunately, it caused me to snort loudly. Everyone at the table looked at me, Jackson with amused raised eyebrows and Nathan with a frown.
I nodded vigorously, wanting to appease Nathan. "I agree. No European douchebag tennis teachers."
Nathan nodded in satisfaction, while the rest of the table laughed.
"Poor Nathan," Mia said sympathetically, patting him on the hand. "He can't pass a tennis court without getting all worked up."
"It's been three months," Claire said, apparently not sharing the sympathy. "How long are you going to pine after her?"
I saw Mia give Claire a warning look, to which Claire just shrugged. Claire didn't seem to have any patience for Nathan's moping about his ex-girlfriend, which was at odds with my earlier impression of her. She seemed so laid back that her lack of patience with Nathan was surprising.
Nathan seemed to deflate at Claire's words, falling back against his chair with a defeated look. I felt bad for him, even though I had just met him. And a part of me felt a little guilty too. Although I had never cheated on Sean, I could see his crestfallen expression in Nathan's face.
"It's okay, three months isn't that long," I offered, wanting to comfort him while trying to lighten the mood. "When my fifth grade boyfriend dumped me for Shelly Dupree because she had a swimming pool and her mom made amazing cookies, I was still poking pins into a doll with a picture of his face on it in sixth grade."
Claire shot me a look that I didn't understand, making me feel uncomfortable. I didn't know the dynamics of this group yet and hadn't really thought about her reaction when trying to comfort Nathan. I hadn't meant to contradict her, but she had seemed a little harsh towards Nathan.
"Remind me never to cross you," Jackson said, seemingly wanting to lighten the mood as well. "I'd hate to think of you having a doll that looks like me and doing some voodoo magic on it."
"Don't worry," I laughed. "I only save that for serious transgressions. Don't ever jilt me for some floozy with a pool and chocolate chip cookies and we'll be fine."
Jackson grinned at me widely, his dimples in full view, and I blinked at him, nonplussed. I hadn't meant to imply that there would ever be anything between us for there to be a possibility of being jilted, but Jackson just seemed amused by it.
"Speaking of being jilted," Claire said, interrupting my thoughts. "Do you still talk to Sean?"
I paled as Claire cocked her head, looking at me innocently. Her question had taken me aback, making me tense and confused. I didn't understand why Claire was bringing up Sean. It felt like an attack, like she was punishing me for disagreeing with her. This didn't seem like the girl that had been so likable on the phone and
had shown me around today, treating me like a friend instead of just a roommate.
"Uh, not really," I replied, my mouth dry. I saw Mia and Nathan look at me with interest while Jackson glanced at Claire with a frown.
"Who's Sean?" Mia asked, seemingly oblivious to the growing tension.
"He's my ex. We broke up recently, but he's back in Maryland."
"Enough of all this depressing talk," Claire said smiling at me. I looked back at her confused. I could have sworn that she had meant her comment about Sean as a dig, but now she was looking at me guilelessly. "No more talk of exes. Let's talk about something more interesting. Mia, how did your audition for that commercial go?"
Mia sighed. "Okay, I guess. It's just so tiring going to all these casting calls for jobs that I have absolutely no interest in. But I need to pay the bills somehow."
"Mia is actually a trained ballerina, but she decided to throw out her pointe shoes for the life of an actress," Claire explained. I gave myself a mental shake. Claire seemed completely friendly and open now. I wondered if I had just misunderstood her earlier comments. I decided to forget about it. The last thing I wanted to do was alienate my roommate and one friend in New York.
"A ballerina. That's impressive. I took ballet when I was a little kid, but I kept ripping off my tutu and running around instead of going into first position, so they asked my parents to withdraw me from class." I smiled ruefully. "I think that was a polite way of kicking me out of class."
Mia laughed. "I got a little further than that, but I realized I didn't want the life of a ballerina. Plus I like to eat." She frowned before continuing, "Although the life of an aspiring actress isn't that much better. I spend most of my time working at the Mac counter in Bloomingdale's and going on casting calls. I haven't had much luck."
I looked around the table. "Are all of you actors?"
"Not me," Nathan answered. "I'm a painter. I'm having a showing at a small gallery next weekend. You should come."
"Wow, a painter," I said, impressed. "Everyone here seems so creative. I would love to come to your showing." I turned to Jackson. "What about you? What do you do?"