“I was just telling you that I like the city and since you’ll be staying, it’ll give me another reason to stay.”
I smiled at Amy and she cracked a grin. It was better than nothing given the emotionally driven diversion we’d just come from.
“Can you afford it?” I asked her.
“I’ve managed thus far, have I not?” She said with confidence.
“I know that Amy but there are no more grants now that you and I are no longer students.”
“Pfft, I don’t need grants. I can cope. Besides, I’m from Cleveland.” She stated proudly.
“What in the name of all holiness has being from Cleveland got to do with any of it?”
Our drinks arrived. Amy swiped at hers without even looking at the bartender. She looked at me as if I’d asked an absolutely ridiculous question while I quietly thanked the man.
“Let me tell you about women from Cleveland. Honey, my mom side hustled for years traveling from Louisiana to California. She had four children as a single mother and is still alive today. It’s in my blood.”
Amy took a big gulp of her mojito, downing a quarter of it rather impressively before saying, “as long as I know where I want to be, I’ll be there.”
I answered her, “you sure as hell have a good attitude for it girl, I’ll tell you that much.”
Being best friends, Amy knew I was skeptical and worried about her well-being. While I was gazing down at the ruby red crystals formed by the low lighting hitting the surface of my drink, she took my hand.
“Dani, really I’ll be okay. I’ll do my best to get a job in whatever I can then I’ll save for a few years.”
“I just wish you knew how much you’re worth Amy.”
“How much I’m worth?” She pondered.
“Yeah, you put yourself down so much and sometimes I wonder if you even care about yourself. You act as if it doesn’t matter if you die tomorrow. I want you to care about your future. You deserve to give that to yourself. I know you’ve fallen on some hard times when you were younger. But look at you now girl! You’re twenty-two years old and have a college degree from NYU no less. I know they say that reaching for the stars is cliche and all… but god damn…reach for the stars!”
“I was raised that way. We didn’t have much when I was a kid. Sometimes I can’t even believe I’ve made it this far.”
“Then push to get further.”
“Eh.” She said without much enthusiasm.
“No, not ‘eh’ Amy. I give too much of a damn about you to watch you fail now.”
We both giggled at the semi-serious tone the conversation adopted.
I jokingly came out with, “don’t make me mother you now! I’ll have to move in with you and watch your every move. Make sure you stay in line.”
Amy chuckled and then looked upwards in thought.
“Haha what?” I asked.
“Why don’t we?”
“Why don’t we what?”
“Move in together!” Amy exclaimed.
“What?!” I said with more bewilderment in my voice than anything else.
“We’re both going to live in the city right?” She said.
“Go on…”
“…and we both need to make ends meet. We like each other, we’re best friends, it only makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“The idea hadn’t even crossed my mind.”
In that moment, I couldn’t think of a single flaw with that plan.
I downed my drink and screamed, “oh my god, let’s do it!”
We hugged each other excited. I was ecstatic because I wasn’t going to lose my bestie and more than that, we were going to be roommates.
“I hope you don’t mind guitars.” She teased.
“Why? How many have you got?” I inquired.
“Seven!”
“Rock on girl. They’ll give our apartment a much more lively vibe anyway.”
The night came to an end and we agreed that from the following day, we’d start looking for apartments which were affordable and reasonably priced so that we could rent it. I had two more weeks in my student housing and Amy had three. Ideally, we’d find a place to move into as soon as possible. I was so thrilled and the prospect of living with my best friend was verily electrifying.
————————————————————
ROOMMATES
The next day, Amy came round to my small overpriced city student flat. I had been living there since second year and I was honestly more than pleased to at last be able to move out. We shortlisted some affordable places and made a clear note of them. After a week and a half of visiting apartments, we came across the ideal one. It was a two bedroom located at Saint Nicholas Avenue, New York City.
When we first visited it, we both had the same reaction. We couldn’t believe that it was in our price range. It was magnificent and had everything we could want as a young duo of best friends starting out in the real scary world of true independence. After dabbling in legalities, the place was ours to rent and two weeks later, we moved it.
We made our respective selection of bedrooms and settled in. It took us three days to get moved in. What’s funny is that moving Amy’s guitars in took the longest amount of time. When they were bunched in her bedroom, it was evident that there wasn’t any space left to move around in. It was literally her bed, her closet and her guitars. The wooden floors were no longer visible.
“Dani?” Amy called me on the first day from her room. I was sat out in the main living area facing the kitchen.
“Yeah?” I called out in response.
Amy came out to meet me looking nervous. I knew her well enough by that point to know there was a question that was to follow.
“I was thinking, would it be alright with you if I put some of my guitars here near the TV.”
I thought for a second but she tried to sell her proposition well. “Think about it, it could make for great decoration.” She exclaimed.
“Oh fine then! It’s not like I have a choice is it?” I teased.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She nudged me playfully.
“You always have to win.”
She gasped in joking horror, “I so do not!”
I walked away heading towards her bedroom, “come on you. Let’s move these babies.”
Amy followed.
“Which ones?” I asked pointing at the guitars.
Amy picked out two of them. One was a candy apple red Fender stratocaster and the other was a vintage 1970s Ibanez in a beautiful hot yellow.
“These.” She said.
“Are you kidding me?”
Amy didn’t understand what I was suggesting.
“You seem to have a problem with these guitars. What’s wrong with them?” She asked.
“Nothing is wrong with them…on their own. But red and yellow don’t go together.” I made my case.
“That’s your concern? They’re guitars Dani.”
“I know I know but we’ve got to have some standards Amy.”
“Standards?! Dani, this place on its own is the highest standard we would ever be able to find. The guitars will add to it.” She shouted bewildered.
I hugged her from behind, “yes boss.”
“Oh come on now don’t be like that.”
“Like what?” I asked as she brought her hands over mine which were around her waist.
“Now I’m the b*tch for having to have it my way.” Amy said.
“No you’re not, I’m just trying to respect what you want and I agree with what you said.”
“…and you’re sure about that?” She needed reassurance.
“I’m positive”, I confirmed.
We didn’t disagree on much and it turned out the guitars worked really well on the wall. One on each side of the television. My room was far less animated than Amy’s. The primary difference between our rooms was that she didn’t have a desk in hers. I did, but then again, I’m the writer and she is the musician. It ma
de more sense that way and we came to such a mutual agreement when we moved in.
Now that we had been settled for three days, it was time to work out how we would actually afford this place. Making real money for the first time was such a discomforting idea - it’s never an easy endeavour.
Amy had the same fears on her mind and it was actually her who brought it up. It was nine o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday when she got out of the shower and came into the kitchen where I was having coffee. A side-note about Amy is an observation that only one who has spent prolonged periods of time with her can make. She looks better without makeup and straightened hair. It’s such a pity when I encounter girls like her. The kind who never realise their true natural beauty. But Lord knows that I saw it. By ‘Lord’ I mean the goddess of sex and beauty because she was simply hot. I was still puzzled at the time about how she never took an interest to relationships and men. Again, my naivety playing the focal role in that situation.
As she entered, her wet hair, bare face and shining complexion made for a gorgeous roommate indeed. I didn’t have much time to look at her though.
“Dani, I wanted to talk about our living situation.” She said, which caught me off guard.
“You’re not kicking me out already are you?” I teased.
“Hey, I’m being serious!” She half-jokingly said in a playful tone.
“You’re right, you’re right.” I composed myself.
She continued, “now that we’re kitted up here, we should talk about making rent and our plans. I spoke to my uncle over the phone last night and he said that there’s an opening in his New York office so I’m going to take it!”
“Well that’s amazing Amy!” I got out of my chair to hug her.
“What’s the job?” I enquired.
“It’s a junior intern position at a vegan food company but it does pay really well for someone just starting out and it’ll give me the chance to afford my half of the rent as well as gaining experience.” Amy said, delighted.
“I’m so happy for you!” I said with a tiny bit of envy. I wish I had those sorts of connections.
“I guess my question is: what are your plans?” She interrogated.
I began to answer, “well…”
However, Amy interceded. “Look I’m not trying to pressurise you but obviously it’s best to have this conversation now so that no unexpected incidents come up later in the month.
“As you know, I’m working on a novel right now and I get some income from previously published books. It doesn’t quite cover the rent but I do have a bit of savings for the next couple of months. In that time, I will look for a job and try to get any part time work I can as well.”
“Awesome. Dani, I hate to have these conversations because…” Amy was nervous.
“Hey. Hey. I get it!” I reassured her as it seemed as though she was very uncomfortable talking about money. I don’t blame her. When you’re such good friends with someone, it’s hell for things such as finance to come in between such a bond. Nonetheless, this is the real world and these aspects of life do need to be talked about, no matter how reluctant one is to bring them up in conversation.
“Since I don’t start until next week, why don’t we go out. It’s a lovely day and we could go to the park and then maybe have a meal somewhere.”
I smiled, “that sounds amazing.”
We left the apartment and with a cocktail of liberation, happiness and shaking uncertainty, we tried to enjoy the day. The park was the first stop on our promenade. There was one free bench which we took. We sat close to each other and faced a massive fountain where pigeons were seeking out food. Amy put her bag down.
No words were exchanged for a few seconds. Instead, we took in the somewhat fresh New York air and pensively gazed without much purpose. I still had the curiosity about Amy’s romantic life. All of my other friends and most girls our age talk about relationships, sex and the whole scope of love life.
“Amy?”
“Mm?” She answered blissfully.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Hah. That’s quite a random question.” She said.
“I suppose I’m just curious. I’ve known you for a couple of years now and I’m interested in what you’ve experienced in life, that’s all.” I reasoned.
“It’s a fair question. The answer is: yes, I have been in love.”
She was still staring out in front but I faced her. I did not want a repeat of what happened at the bar so I was very cautious with my wording as I would hate to overstep.
“May I ask about it?”
“Yeah, depends what you want to know.” She asserted.
“Tell me anything. I’d love to hear about it. Who was he?”
In retrospect, it was the word ‘he’ that caused her to look at me in an unexpected way. At the time, I had no idea what I’d said wrong. Still, Amy didn’t correct me but I should have known something was up when she proceeded to use gender non-specific pronouns.
“Well…they were really sweet. We actually sort of grew up together.” She started.
“Sort of?” I asked.
“Yes. We weren’t related or anything but we spent a lot of time together growing up. In the playgrounds, at school and so on. It lasted ages. In high school, we were really really close. I’d say probably as close as you and I… maybe even closer. That sparked a romantic love for one another and I was the first to tell them. They said it back but we hid our love from our families. When they eventually found out, their parents sent them away to finish high school somewhere in Iowa where they had relatives. We’d write and then text but our love slipped away. It broke my heart.”
Amy was deep in thought and I felt really bad about hearing what she’d just told me.
“Damn girl, that’s heavy. I’m really sorry.” I sympathised.
She sighed really deeply and looked back at the fountain, “yeah…what can you do?”
I asked, “this person…do you still love them?”
“No, at least not in the way I used to. I love them as a sibling or as close friend. I mean, they were all I really had growing up and they were taken from me so soon.”
“They?” I asked.
“The person.” She said.
I assumed in a silly way that she was just trying to maintain the person’s privacy. Amy being gay hadn’t yet crossed my mind.
“Well I’m sure that he thinks about you all the time, Amy.”
“I sure hope so. Maybe I’ll see them again one day but to be honest, I don’t really care now."
“You don’t?” I uttered softly.
“No. Life has to move on doesn’t it. Besides, look at me now. I’ve got an incredible roommate, I’m in the big city and should be making some money. I can’t complain.” Amy’s tone changed as she said this and a wonderful smile emerged on her gorgeous face.
I wrapped my arm around her and she leaned in for a brief cuddle. She then sat back up and asked, “okay okay, now you.”
“Me?” I giggled.
“Damn right. I told you my story, now it’s your turn. Have you ever been in love?”
I grinned.
She immediately teased me, “ooo you have! You have! Tell me.”
“Alright but my story sucks compared to yours so don’t judge.”
“It’s me honey, I’d never judge you…well maybe sometimes.” She laughed.
I began telling her my story. “Mine was also in high school. I met this charming guy. I didn’t have any kind of deep connection which dated back to our childhoods or anything but I did fall pretty hard for him. He did too. He ended up breaking up with me in our senior year.”
“Why?” Amy asked.
“I think he was cheating on me with this other girl called Mary Bennet.”
“Ugh, guys are the absolute worst. I swear it’s best to stay away sometimes.”
“Not all guys, Amy.” I defended cheekily.
“No?” She said, expecting more of a justificati
on for my imposition.
“No. I’ve been with a few really nice boys and it just didn’t work out.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t generalise. I guess my experiences haven’t been as pleasant. You probably have more romantic endeavours than I do.” She stated.
I couldn’t think of what else to add so I moved on.
“So these days…what are you looking for?” I blurted out, attempting to change the subject slightly only to realise that I was just taking a different branch of the same tree.
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