Beautiful Together

by Andrea Wolfe

  Yeah, I was leeching off her dad. I was basically living for free in New York City. The apartment was pretty shoddy, but it had "character," as Arielle always said

  Our NYC friend, Elise, had the third room.

  I worked part-time at a cell phone accessory store. It was stupidly easy work, and far better than waiting tables or retail. It was only about thirty hours a week, and so with no rent in NYC, it was a pretty okay existence.

  Arielle had become a career barista—except that she never stayed at any coffee shop for too long. Elise was going through beauty school. We all smoked a lot of weed and shared the collective, unspoken goal to party as much as possible.

  My parents didn't know anything about my life, and that was exactly the way I wanted things to stay. I hadn't spoken to Donna in years either.

  And Jesse... well, who the hell was Jesse again?

  It all felt like another life entirely.

  But even with all the partying, I hadn't been with anyone since Mason.

  No one.

  I was the untouchable, bitchy girl no matter where I went. Guys hit on me constantly, and I hated it. I despised it, frankly. Arielle insisted that a relationship would be good for me, but I simply didn't agree.

  I took another drink and tried to swallow my thoughts with the cool liquid; it didn't work. At the very least, my throat felt better.

  There was still some blackness left in my mind, a lingering, gloomy color that never really faded away. Glimpses of fear and weakness and Mason's embalmed body at the funeral...

  Did I really believe I had anything to do with Mason's death? Although I couldn't ever be totally sure, I was starting to consistently lean toward no. I didn't really believe in anything anymore.

  Oh, God, but his frail, haggard expression as he stared at me from that hospital bed...

  Sometimes I woke from a dead sleep in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, shivering, clutching at the blankets like they were my life preserver in the middle of an angry sea.

  The moments faded fast, but that didn't mean they didn't have an impact.

  It didn't happen that often anymore, but whenever I assumed it was over, it would creep back and surprise me. I wondered if moving on would make it go away.

  I wondered if anything could make it go away.

  Early on, my dad had tried to reach out to me, but I never gave him anything to work with. I was still bitter about my time in high school, as childish as that seemed. I was twenty-three now, but still clinging to the past.

  I think the bigger problem was that I wasn't really doing anything. I never went to college, never had anything beyond stupid jobs that were barely above minimum wage. No boyfriend, no prospects for the future. The list went on and on and on.

  You need to try, because I can't, Mason had said.

  Well, I wasn't trying.

  ***

  After high school, I had continued to stay at Arielle's house for almost a year, until she became obsessed with the idea of moving to New York City after an extended visit there.

  "It'll be so cool," she had said.

  "No way, I can't afford that."

  "But I want you to move there with me, Naomi. My dad will cover the rent. He's not gonna care, seriously."

  I was working at the local ice cream shop at the time, serving people from my town who all seemed to be doing a hell of a lot more with their lives than me.

  With the whole rent issue out of the way, it had taken me all of about one second to agree.

  ***

  I continued shifting on the couch, trying to find my comfortable position again. The daylight was growing more intense, so I knew that if I didn't get back to sleep soon, it just wasn't going to happen.

  The first NYC apartment we had lived was much worse than our current one, but that was just because Arielle was too stubborn to take any advice and wanted to find a place by herself. The landlord had been a total asshole. But we were living "on our own," so every day was a new adventure.

  And then Arielle met Elise at the coffee shop one day, and soon after, we all moved in together. Elise knew there was an opportunity for reduced rent if she could find us a cool place, and so she seized it.

  Elise was a lot like Arielle, but different enough to keep things interesting. She was a lot taller than either of us, at nearly six feet. Her hair was perpetually being restyled or re-colored, so she never looked all that consistent.

  At five foot four, I was actually the shortest of the group since Arielle was five foot five.

  When it came to fashion, she and Arielle were pretty much identical. It was clear that they would have shared clothes if there wasn't such a huge discrepancy in height. They both loved vintage, colorful dresses and band t-shirts.

  Arielle had moved past her punk phase—she even retired some of her crazier piercings—and now she was straight up hipster with Elise.

  They liked the same hipster art, music, and movies, and since our apartment in Fort Greene was so close to Williamsburg—Elise knew exactly what she was doing when she found the place, obviously—things couldn't be better for them. A few stops on the G train and you were in the hipster capital of America.

  It was a weirdly idyllic existence for three girls in their early twenties. I both loved and hated it. In a way, I felt that it was owed to me. Not that Arielle's dad was required to pay for my expenses, but that the universe or God or something owed me an extended period of respite after those eight months of drawn out misery with Mason.

  I never had to make any real decisions. I could further delay becoming an adult. For how long though, I didn't know.

  Regardless, I was just thankful to have met Arielle when I did, because every good thing in my life now was because of her. And she wanted me here, so I stayed. We got in little tiffs from time to time, but they were never anything serious.

  She was my best friend. And aside from Elise, she was really my only close friend in this huge city.

  I continued shifting on the couch as I fought to silence the tumult of my thoughts.

  Finally, I slept.

  ***

  Most of my days were spent working at the cell phone store.

  My boss, Vijay, was from India. His store sold the same generic cell phone accessories you could buy on Amazon or eBay. He purchased in mass quantities and resold at prices cheaper than the major retail stores.

  It wasn't clear if Vijay made a lot of money or not since most days were quite slow. He had more than one location though, so maybe the others made up for bad days at our store.

  Vijay was super nice, nicer than any other boss I'd ever had in my life. Sometimes he got flustered when customers tried to return broken accessories that they had clearly broken themselves, but he usually kept his cool. He had a wife and young son who frequently came by the shop.

  "You look so sad today, Naomi," Vijay said. He was standing over a big cardboard box, tearing through the shipping tape with a box cutter.

  "I do?" I asked, a little startled. I always felt kind of melancholy, but I never thought anyone could tell. I continued my task of straightening out phone cases that had been knocked around by customers.

  "You just have... a thing, I guess," he said. "An aura."

  "I don't believe in that stuff, Vijay," I said playfully. "Auras and chakras and whatever. It's all just a way to sell books and meditation classes."

  He ruefully smiled back. "Well, I don't really believe in them either, but that doesn't change what I see."

  "I don't know," I said. "I feel fine." I had never told him much about my past and I wasn't about to start now.

  "Maybe I'm wrong," he said. "You can always talk to me, Naomi. I don't bite."

  I shrugged. "I'm okay, really."

  Vijay suddenly pulled out a handful of hot pink iPhone cases. "They only sent me pink ones," he groaned. "How the hell am I going to sell three-hundred pink iPhone cases? There will be another iPhone model out before I can get rid of all of these. Idiots."

  He s
tomped off with the box and disappeared into the back, his attention successfully diverted from me.

  But after he left, I suddenly realized that I did feel different, in a way I didn't understand.

  And that was weird.

  21

  "I've got the perfect idea," Arielle announced as she loudly slurped her martini. It was later that night, a very typical night for us in New York City. We were in a dive bar in Williamsburg.

  I hated those words most of the time, but only initially. Arielle had a way of dragging me out of my comfort zone and throwing me into all sorts of weird situations.

  We had wound up smoking weed on tour buses with popular bands, at closed restaurants drinking fancy wine with restaurant owners, and even once at a fancy event for Wall Street investors that Arielle had claimed we could sneak into—and it worked.

  We got away with three glasses of champagne apiece before security dragged us out.

  I groaned and took a long sip of my beer. "What is it this time?"

  "Well, one, you need to get laid. I hate to be so blunt, but this whole celibacy thing isn't doing you any favors."

  I stuck out my tongue at her. "How do you know I'm celibate?"

  "Duh," she said. "I know, dude."

  Well, she had me. "Well, it's not like you know what celibacy is like. What's the longest you've gone without sex?"

  She scrunched up her eyes, thinking hard. "Two or three days, I guess."

  "Amazing," I said. "Maybe you should try it sometime. It really clears your head." I resentfully took another drink from my beer.

  "You know, you're gonna have to move on eventually," she said, revealing the true nature of her remark. "What happened... really sucks. But why should it keep you down forever?"

  I winced as she said the words. "Easier said than done," I said. "At least you still get along with your family."

  "I know, I know," she said. "I'm not denying that. But you've just..." She trailed off and took another sip of her martini. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you're my best friend. I just don't like it when you get in these moods."

  I took a deep breath and ruminated for a minute or two. Was I really that bad? Vijay had mentioned it earlier, and now Arielle. I was suddenly worried about what Elise thought. Was I really becoming the ultimate downer?

  "Whatever," I said implacably, still shirking from her suggestion. "So is that your whole idea then? Just that you want me to get laid?"

  Arielle frowned. "No, sorry. I got carried away on that tangent." She paused and drank more. "I think we should go visit my aunt and cousin in London."

  I felt my pulse jump. "London?" I asked. "I can't afford that."

  "My dad would pay for it, obviously."

  She had an answer for literally everything. "Well, what about my job?"

  "Vijay will let you have the time off. I'm sure. It's just for a couple weeks. He'll survive."

  "You don't know that," I said stubbornly.

  "That's what you always say," she retorted. "And then you always tell me later that I'm right."

  I felt my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Whatever."

  "C'mon, London is so fun," she said. "And my cousin is awesome."

  "What about Elise?" I asked. "Did you invite her too?"

  "Yeah, but she's got some big school thing coming up. So it'll be just me and you."

  I sat back hard in the booth, pressing my shoulders into the soft, plushy material. "You want to go soon?"

  "Well, in a few weeks. Maybe right after Halloween since I've already made plans for us."

  I laughed. As usual, Arielle was calling the shots. She probably had stuff planned well into the next decade already. "Maybe," I said.

  "Oh, you'll go. And you'll love it. It'll be really good for you." She gave me that famous mischievous grin and then finished her drink.

  All I could do was sigh. Even with the possibility of a free transatlantic journey, I felt grey and hollow. I still didn't know what the hell I was doing.

  I was in a hole I had been digging for years—and now I was miles below sea level. Could one fun trip really change anything for me?

  I doubted it.

  "Oh, and you'll need to get a passport," Arielle added. "If you don't already have one."

  "I definitely don't have one," I said.

  She smiled. "So get one, dude. Now do you wanna get high? I'm ready to get going."

  "Yeah," I said. "That sounds good."

  So we left and got high.

  ***

  A few days later, I had fully signed on for the trip. Arielle bought the tickets before I even asked Vijay, a stupid decision in retrospect, but I figured everything would work out anyway.

  My assumption was that we'd go to London, party until Arielle's family didn't want to see us anymore, and then come back home and resume the familiar cycle of waking, working a little, partying a lot, and then passing out. Rinse and repeat.

  So the plan was set—we would leave the week after Halloween, roughly one month away.

  As expected, Vijay was fine with it. "I just need you back for Black Friday," he had said. "But you need a vacation. It will make you a better worker for the holidays."

  After all of that was settled, I was left with one event before London—the Halloween party. I started to feel a tinge of giddy excitement after I committed to going on the trip, even though I tried to hide it.

  Nothing stood in my way—well, except that I needed a passport.

  22

  After settling for some of the worst photos I've ever had taken in my life—I looked like I was on a month-long drinking binge, and that was being very generous—I headed to the post office, where huge lines awaited me. Most things were preferable to waiting in line, but if I wanted to go to London, I didn't have a choice.

  I was ready when I arrived, my already completed form in my hand, my ID and horrible passport photos in my purse. But it wasn't enough—my out of state driver's license wasn't an acceptable form of identification.

  The train ride back was miserable. I had run into one hell of a roadblock. Searching the internet on my phone, I figured out that I could apply for a social security card online. But I still needed a birth certificate to apply for that, so it didn't even matter.

  Hiding from my parents had worked so well up until that moment, but now I needed them. I couldn't fly home and break in—I'd have to interact with them and hope they were willing to cooperate.

  Honestly, I felt like cancelling the whole trip. I felt weak and pathetic, like reality was just too much for me to handle. I felt ashamed about my life, ashamed about my lack of potential and initiative. But still, I didn't know what to do with myself or how to fix things.

  When I arrived home, Arielle was sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette while packing the bong. "Hey," she said warmly. "Get everything taken care of?"

  "No, I didn't," I said coldly, shoving my backpack into the corner.

  "Okay, dude. Sit down now," she ordered like a drill sergeant. "Tell me what's up."

  I cringed at the thought, because I didn't feel like I actually wanted a solution. I just wanted to wallow and feel helpless. I collapsed in the raggedy La-Z-Boy chair by the lamp, and took a deep breath.

  "I need secondary identification," I said. "For my passport."

  Arielle gave me a shocked expression. "Wait, that's it? I thought maybe you got hit by a car and had a concussion or something."

  I scowled at her. "Of course that's it," I said, mimicking her tone. "I don't have that stuff; my parents do."

  "Then tell them to send it to you," she said matter-of-factly.

  I groaned. "Like that's really what I want to do right now."

  "You think I don't get your situation? I've been supporting you since you got kicked out. If anyone gets you, it's me."

  I felt my muscles relaxing. She was breaking through my hardened exterior as usual. Plus, that was true—she was my financial lifeline.

  "Do you want to go on the
trip or not?" She stared at me intensely.

  "Yes," I said. It came out like a squeak.

  "Okay, so you have to get that stuff. If you want to go, you have to do it. It's really quite simple. And then you never have to talk to them again because you'll have all the official documents you'll ever need. Unless you want to talk to them again."

  Embarrassment hit me hard. "God, I'm such an idiot," I mumbled. "I mean, this is so stupid to get upset about. You're giving me a free trip to London and I'm—"

  "Stop it," she scolded, taking a long, final drag from the cigarette and butting it in the ash tray. "Just solve it and move on. I'm not gonna judge you for getting upset. But I am gonna be pissed if I have to go to London without you."

  Arielle to the rescue. Her black and white presentation of issues always helped me when I was upset.

  I took a deep breath and rubbed my temples slowly. "Okay," I said. "No more complaining. This is dumb."

  "Plus, you're gonna have to get over that thing with your mom eventually," she said. "It can't go on forever."

  "Oh, yes it can," I said. "I can definitely keep going—"

  "Okay, enough," she said. "That discussion is for another day. You've got work to do."

  "You're right," I said. I stood up and walked toward my room. "I'm locking myself in until I have a plan."

  "Good luck, dude," Arielle called. I heard her bong bubbling as I walked into my room.

  I closed the door and sat down at my desk. I stared out my window into the world, a world that seemed so bleak, so huge and barren for me. A world filled with relationships, love, sex, jobs, families. I felt like I didn't have access to any of those things, at least not in any meaningful way.

  Arielle was right—I had been evading the subject as much as possible.

  I opened my jewelry box and pulled out the gemstone necklace that Donna had given me. I never wore it because I was too worried about losing it. I cradled it in my hands, admiring it, thinking about what it meant.