Stressed Spelled Backwards

by Ivanova, Svetlana

  Stressed Spelled Backwards

  Svetlana Ivanova

  Copyright © 2017 Svetlana Ivanova

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1546828686

  ISBN-10: 1546828680

  DEDICATION

  For Renae

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter fourteen

  Chapter fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Other books by Svetlana Ivanova:

  Chapter One

  Elise leaned forward and tapped the taxi driver on the shoulder. The middle-aged man with thinning gray hair turned around.

  "Pardon me, sir, but after you let us off, you should go straight to the repair shop," she said. "Your engine is quite loud and the air-conditioner isn't working very well."

  The balding man scowled back. Karmen nudged me in the ribs.

  "Don't tell me she's going to be like this the whole time," she whispered.

  Elise and Karmen were both best friends of mine. They were frenemies to each other. Karmen nicknamed Elise, Princess Peach.

  But I knew we were all in perfect agreement with her about the car's lack of proper care. All of us were sweating buckets the whole drive from the airport.

  It was our first summer day in New York City, the monochrome world lit with flashing screens and neon lights.

  "Well, she'll grow tired soon," I reassured my other best friend. Then Elise pulled out a half-empty bottle of perfume from her purse and sprayed at our cabbie's damp armpit.

  "And this is the Channel 5," she went on before shoving the tiny bottle into his shirt pocket. She patted the man's shoulder with a smile. "You can keep it, good sir."

  The driver glared back as Karmen and I decided we'd better get Princess Peach out of the cab as soon as possible.

  After the taxi drove off, the three of us found ourselves facing the Central Park.

  "We made it!" Karmen yelled, spreading her arms up like she was a cheerleader with her pompoms. "Bright day! Big city! No parents, no rules! And the best summer of our lives!"

  Karmen was Miss. Optimistic. She was the volleyball captain and the hottest girl two years in the row at our university, and she had dated all the greatest guys but none ever lasted more than a week. Then she came out as bisexual. And after our graduation, who wouldn't look forward to a new beginning?

  Elise shrugged, looking unimpressed.

  "I wish we could spend the summer at my parent’s villa in Morocco."

  "Come on, we're not babies anymore, Elise," I said. "We need to see the world and be independent."

  "Or you'll turn into a regular potato lying around and doing nothing," Karmen added. "Grow up, Princess Peach."

  The remark earned her a sharp look from Elise.

  "I highly doubt that any of us know how to be an adult yet."

  Karmen and I exchanged a look. She was right. Karmen used to tell me that if life was a parade, Elise was rain. If life was a picnic, she was the pigeon's poop.

  "Alright girls, I think we should go check out our new apartment," I said to change the subject. "I've heard it's in the coolest area. We'll do a lot more than just adulting."

  In a way, we were in perfect sync about our future plans. It was a big milestone for us to move to New York since we loved walking. And by walking, I mean, professional walking on the runway.

  Karmen looped her arm around mine.

  "Azra, I refuse to let this girl ruin our dreams. I happen to know that it is mathematically impossible for us to be anything but wild and free," Karmen said. "We're the city girls. We're to conquer the world."

  "Mathematically? Who would say that?" Elise snorted.

  "Excuse you! One, we're now in the Big A," Karmen explained. "Two, Azra and I believe that we're going to be successful models in two weeks flat. Three, we've got the heights and the looks. Four, we've already got a place to stay. That's four for the good and zero for the bad."

  Karmen was here with us to have fun. And knowing her, she would have lots of it, every day. Elise was here just because she had nothing else to do. New York wouldn't make much difference to her. Neither would the moon. Yet for me, I had only one shot. With my overprotective parents, I had to prove that I could make it on my own.

  If I ever called home for money, that would mean I had screwed up and they would ask me to go back. I might never see the light of day again working in our bakery for the rest of my life.

  As we waited for our landlord, a very weird feeling started to take a hold of my stomach. It wasn't fear, but I was starting to get more realistic and less optimistic about our adventurous decision to move here. The building we were in was a structural nightmare. I was impressed by the peeling wallpaper and that battered framed modern paintings that no longer looked modern. Even the rickety office furniture and the coffee table were covered in so much dust that you could grow seeds on them and the following month you'd have some flowers for decoration.

  "So is this where we're going to live?" asked Elise. "Wow."

  If sarcasm was electricity, Elise's would be a nuclear power plant. I searched for the words. There was no denying that this area was a dump, consisting of cheap bars, empty shops, and dull townhouses.

  "You have zero concepts of cool places and city life," Karmen said, giving her a know-it-all look. "This is an American lifestyle. In a big city like this, people fight to get into this kind of area. It's where the artists get their inspiration, the musicians compose their music and the writers write their bestsellers."

  "And the models sign contracts?"

  "Yeah duh?" Karmen said. "Besides, the place seems kind of authentic and funky and...and..."

  "And trendy," I added. I just didn't want to let either of my best friends down, so I tried to ignore the red flag and acted all excited. But my mind was operating at double speed while the rest of the world went in a slow motion.

  "See? Azra gets it. Why don't you?"

  Elise just gave a scratchy shrug back.

  We met the landlady instead. She was a stout black woman. Her red lipstick and brows were so nicely drawn that I suspected they were permanent. She introduced us as Celia. With a puff of her cigarette smoke, she sat on her squeaky revolving chair behind her desk and worked on an ancient-looking computer.

  "First, I need your identification cards or passports," she said with a bored look. We gave them to her. She looked at each of us then at our passports before saying. "Russian girls, huh?"

  I thought she was going to make some American-ish comment. Instead, she got up and motioned to the three of us to follow. She let us to Apartment 2B. It was directly over the deli, which the landlady also ran.

  Through the dingy hallway, I was now expecting the worst, but stepping into our new place was like entering the twenty-first century.

  It wasn't too big, but big enough for three people. The wide glass windows overlooked the Central Park. The couch faced the wide-screen TV and stereo. Karmen loved the bedrooms while Elise fell in love with the bathroom. But what I loved the most was the k
itchen. It had everything. And I had to refrain myself from running over to hug the fridge. It was the most adorable vintage red fridge I'd ever seen.

  "Don't judge the book by its cover, ladies," Celia said with a smirk. "Welcome to my building. If you need anything, let me know tomorrow. Now I'm off work. My back is killing me."

  With that said, she left us.

  "I'm never going to leave this place," Karmen said with a contented sigh.

  "Yeah if you can afford $3,000 a month," Elis pointed out.

  Karmen narrowed her eyes to tiny slits. I had to break them by changing the subject.

  "Alright, let's explore the city!" I said.

  We went first to the famous Fifth Avenue since Karmen insisted that we needed new outfits so we wouldn't look like tourists.

  "We have to blend in," she said as if we were some trained spies. "Follow the trend."

  We went shopping, which we really got into it that day. Now possessing the must-have wardrobes, we required new haircuts. Karmen and I blew a bundle at this fancy stylist's place that boosted about having celebrity clients. Karmen looked extra fine, but I still looked like me, except with softer hair from the washing and drying. Princess Peach returned from the bookstore with her only purchase of the day, the complete collection of Jane Austen. And we were ready to call it a day well spent, literally.

  Chapter Two

  My parents called at six-thirty in the morning. I slept talking through the whole conversation. I yawned out that everything was perfectly fine. We got the nicest and safest place to stay. The last part was still in question, but I wouldn't tell them that.

  Then it was Elise and Karmen's parents calling. They weren't too happy to be woken up at this hour either, and after the reporting time was all over, we agreed that it was wise to go back to sleep.

  When we woke up again, it was one-thirty in the afternoon.

  Karmen let out a huge yawn as she stretched.

  "I dreamed about my mom calling me this morning," she said.

  "Everyone's mother called, Karmen," I said. "In real life."

  "Oh." she shrugged. "Can't remember what I said. I hope I didn't tell her I took her new handbag with me."

  Elise blindly felt her way to the bathroom. After a moment later, we heard a piercing scream. Karmen and I ran into the bathroom. Elise was in her towel and a plastic cap, still wet.

  "What's wrong?" Karmen said.

  Elise just pulled open the shower curtain. There was water surging out from the pipe. It spilled over the edges of the bathtub, spreading everywhere.

  "The damn showerhead broke," Elise said, looking pissed. "It hit me right in the forehead."

  We called the landlady to inform her about the shower incident. The woman told us that the plumber would come in half an hour later. We couldn't even wash our face since they turned off the water.

  "Great," Elise said, dabbing her face with the bottled water from the fridge. "I'm not going out looking like this."

  I followed her example and brushed my teeth.

  Karmen was staring at her laptop on the couch. Suddenly, she sprang to her feet with a shocked face.

  "Oh my god!" she cried. "My account has been hacked!"

  We gathered around her and gawked. It was her bank statement.

  "Wait," Elise said. "Those are all your purchases."

  As usual, she was right on the target. Between designer's clothes and haircuts and a number of expensive cosmetic products, she had blown about $690.99 in total. I ran off to check mine and felt like I just received a virtual slap in the face.

  "We spent that much? How?" I said in disbelief. And that was only on the first day. So much for not squandering our life-savings.

  "Well, let's just start spending wisely then," Karmen said.

  The plumber showed up in the middle of it. We decided to brush it aside. None of us looked the least presentable. Even so, after he was done, the plumber didn't charge us a cent, saying it was a pleasure the help.

  "Oh thank you, you are so kind," Karmen said with a sugary charm in her voice that made Elise silently gagged. The man smiled at us with a salute before leaving through the door.

  We took turns taking a shower then went down to the deli for brunch. It was packed. The people there stared at us.

  "Just smile and wave, girls, smile and wave," Karmen instructed us.

  "What are we? The penguins of Madagascar?" Elise scoffed.

  "Hey, why can't you think of something nicer like Miss. Universes or something?" Karmen gave her a look.

  I couldn't help giggling at these two. At last, we found a table by the window and settled down.

  A waitress appeared. We had to look all the way up to see her face at the top. She stood like a mountain wearing an apron with a notepad. Her frizzy red hair escaped her white cape, which made her look more like a nurse in the nuthouse than a waitress. She was waiting for our order with a bored look. We tried to act normal.

  Elise was scanning through the menu while Karmen and I still couldn't shake the fact that we were both now $1,000 poorer.

  "When are you going to order, Miss. Dollface?" The waitress said. "I have other customers to serve."

  "Hey, that's not nice, Ms...." Karmen said and paused to look at her name tag. "....that's not nice, Ms. McHuge."

  "It's McHugh!" the big woman corrected. "Do you even speak English? Are you ordering or not?"

  "Yes yes, we are!" I said, giving desperate signals to my best friends to just shut up.

  "You don't have vegetarian foods here," Elise complained. "No low-carbs, no non-cholesterol. Everything is so fattening."

  The waitress narrowed her eyes at us. I felt the color drained from my face.

  "Look, honey, you're not in a five-star restaurant," Ms. McHugh said.

  "Elise, just order something or we'll start having bad luck," I hissed under my breath.

  No sooner had the words left my mouth than the deli's kitchen door flew open, and out stormed Celia, our landlady hidden behind a greasy white apron.

  Celia shook a spatula at us.

  "Are you crazy? What crazy world without carbs and crispy bacon?"

  "Well, Ms. Celia," I said. "We just want to watch our diet. Our profession requires us to be fit and healthy."

  "What are you, movie stars or Russian spies?" Celia squinted her eyes at us in suspicion.

  "No, but you might see us on a magazine cover one day," Karmen told her proudly. "We're here to be models."

  "Ha!" Celia said. Her generous breasts bobbed and the apron jiggled. "You all might as well be walking twigs to me. Just order the food already."

  Well, we might be stick-thin in her opinion, obviously. If only she knew Karmen and I actually ate like a horse, except Elise. She was the pickiest eater.

  "And oh," Celia said. "You have to pay me for the broken shower. It cost $50."

  "What?" I said. "But the plumber told us it was free of charge."

  "For the service, mind you," Celia said. "I don't know what witchcraft you did to that man, but he changed the showerhead with six different spray modes for you so that you can shower your shapely limbs like some naiads, and that's not free."

  "But it wasn't our fault!" Karmen said. "It broke by itself."

  "I don't know whose fault it was, but it wasn't mine," the landlady said then whizzed back into the kitchen.

  We grumbled about it among ourselves for a while as we had our American breakfast for three, which cost us $9.50 each. It was just plain bagels with avocados, chips, cheese omelet and orange juice. Karmen were checking out the place as she ate. Elise nibbled on her toast with jam and a hard-boiled egg with jasmine tea like an English lady.

  "We're going to find an agency today, ladies," Karmen said. "We can't let this ruin our day."

  We all agreed to that. So after breakfast, we went back to our apartment. Karmen flopped down on the couch and began searching for some famous fashion agency using the only detective tool she'd got: the Internet.

  I was worki
ng out how to save up. Scratching all the impulsive expenses, like the designer's clothes and the hair and taking away all the stuff we did just because it was our first day, the things we got bewitched to buy, but not again, and voila! We could survive longer in New York City if we ate at McDonald and go to everything that was either cheap or free.

  Let's hope we could land a job contract soon.

  "Done it!" Karmen exclaimed. "I've already sent out our portfolios. I bet once they see it, they will contact us in no time."

  "Since when do we have portfolios, Karmen?" I asked, surprised. I didn't remember creating one.

  "I just sent the links to our Instagram profiles," Karmen said.

  "What? Are you sure it's that easy?" I asked.

  "What's to worry about?" she said. "Everyone wants a Russian model these days."

  "Yes, just trust the universe," Elise said. She was meant to be sarcastic, but Karmen didn't find it that way. She only nodded.

  "Right," Karmen said. "Now, we can continue our tour as swinging city gals! Let's celebrate!"

  Before we knew it, an Uber was called, and we went through the traffic of Manhattan. Each of us all dressed up as we were told to.

  "Where are we going?" I asked.

  "We're going to drown ourselves in loud music," Karmen said. "We're going to bath ourselves in colored lights and hot babes."

  Elise laughed in her face. "Hot babes? What do you know about women?"

  "Shut up, Elise," snapped Karman and turned to me. "I'm feeling good tonight. Let's get some action, Azra. Don't you think it's time to look for a new girlfriend? How long has it been since you broke up with old what's-her-face?"

  My cheeks reddened. Olesya was my high school sweetheart. She dumped me for a guy who she claimed was easier to be with than a girl. Since then I'd sworn off closeted straight girls. And for four years in college, I still hadn't bumped into a girl with our books falling to the ground then looking into each other's eyes as we picked them up. Even Elise had a few girlfriends she liked but didn't love.

  "What about you?" I countered. "What was the logic behind you ditching Veronika last month?"

  Veronika was everyone's dream girl. She was pretty and smart and had trouble deciding whether to be a high-fashion model or a nuclear physicist. Veronika chose the latter.