did he make you feel?” she asked, the ice cubes in her cup clanking against the glass.
I took a long pause and stared back up at Olivia’s ceiling. I could feel myself getting emotional, the tears forming behind my eyes. But the emotion wasn’t brought on by losing Nicholas, it was from allowing him to treat me how he did for so long.
“Pathetic,” I said, steadying my voice. “He made me feel pathetic. And no one who can make me feel that way deserves to be my friend.”
Cassandra went silent for a few seconds. I took the opportunity to quietly let out a few tears. I glanced around Olivia’s room. I couldn’t help but be thankful for her. In the past year she had become a great friend. I had only ever been in here one other time; the day she, Michael and I were studying for exams. The walls were painted a fresh, light-gray color, and the furniture was dark brown. Not rustic-looking, but definitely antique. There was a framed Dashboard Confessional set list on the dresser, which was dated May 31st, 2009. I assumed it was most likely left over from her emo days in college. The bedspread I had now made a mess out of consisted of an off-white, eye-lit comforter with a burgundy quilt folded at the foot of the bed. The room felt very warm, cozy. Downright comfortable for Brooklyn, at least. The only problem, as with most New York City apartments, was the hideous HVAC wall unit that stuck out of the only window. Adding a certain sterile feeling to the room. Even with the curtains she had carefully hung, an obvious attempt to hide the eyesore, the fact that it was there would mean this room would never really feel like home.
“Amalia? You still there?”
“Yes” I said, suddenly remembering I was still on the phone. “I’m here. Sorry.”
“So how’s it going over at Olivia’s?”
“Actually, earlier today before the slap incident, we started apartment-hunting,” I said.
“For the both of you?” she asked.
“No, just for me,” I answered quickly. “I never want another roommate again. Not that Olivia would be a bad roommate. I just think it’s time for me to get comfortable living alone.”
“Did you see anything worth living in?” she asked. I heard her typing on a computer in the background.
“Not today,” I said, reliving the hell that was that apartment. “But I have two lined up for tomorrow after class. One in Murray Hill and one in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Nice, keep me posted.”
“I will”, I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. The thought of seeing two more apartments didn’t exactly fill me with hope, but it was something that I had to get done. “Hey, what happened with that guy Brandon? Did you end up going out?”
“Yeah, we had brunch at Morandi.”
“Well?” I said, raising the energy in my voice. “Do you like him? Did you kiss? Cassandra! Where are my details?”
“Yes, I like him.” Cassandra let out a soft laugh. “And yes we did kiss.”
“Nice!” I opened my mouth to say more, but she quickly cut me off.
“But listen, I have to go,” she said suddenly. “I just got an email from my boss and he wants me to take care of something.”
I looked at my watch. 8:00 pm.
“Oh okay,” I said, not pushing the subject. “But hey, let’s talk tomorrow and you can tell me more about your new man!”
“Sure, I’ll shoot you a text,” she said quickly, more typing in the background. Followed by a soft sigh.
“Okay. Bye Cassie.” I let out a sigh after I hung up, and wondered how much longer Cassandra was going to be distant.
I placed the phone down and smoothed over Olivia’s bedspread. I reached my arms above my head and let myself feel a small stretch. I was thoroughly exhausted. I rolled onto my side and checked my phone to see if I had any emails. There was one from my brother, Aaron. I hadn’t spoken to him since the day I left for Brazil. I sent a postcard when I had the chance, but other than that we had no communication for nearly three months. I really wanted to keep to myself during that trip. It was nice to clear my mind of everything that was happening in New York. I rationalized that I was too tired to read and write back to the email right then and there, so I left it for tomorrow. Aaron and I had gotten closer, but there was still room for improvement. I closed my eyes and let my head sink into Olivia’s down-stuffed pillow. I would get up in a minute and make my way over to the couch, but for now it felt nice. My phone began to buzz and I knocked it over on the floor. No more interactions for today. I was done.
I woke up the next morning to harsh sunlight pouring into my eyes, and the painful sensation of an elbow jamming into the middle of my back.
“Ow,” I murmured. I lifted my head up and pushed the nest of blonde hair out of my eyes. Olivia was sound asleep next to me, curled up into a ball at the end of the bed. Shit, I forgot to sleep on the couch. I slowly reached over her and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. 7:00 am. Class today was beginning at 9, and I figured now was as good a time as any to start the day.
“Olivia?” I said softly, lightly touching her shoulder. She didn’t move. “Hey, we have to wake up now.” I shook her gently. It was our first day of the new semester and I was happy we would be walking in together.
Olivia’s brown eyes flew open, like when you see a killer regain consciousness in a horror movie. She turned and looked at me, then squinted. She lifted up her head and began scanning the room with her tired eyes. When she was finished, she scrunched up her face and let out a grunt. “Sorry, I didn’t know where I was for a second,” she uttered through a hoarse voice.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep in your bed last night,” I said, suddenly feeling guilty. “I closed my eyes for a second and the next thing I knew it was morning.”
“Don’t worry about it”, she yawned. “What time is it anyway?”
“Seven,” I said, and then immediately yawned myself. “We have plenty of time.”
Olivia let out another grunt and then threw the covers off her body and on to my face.
“Okay, okay,” she mumbled, coming to life. Olivia stood up and did a full-body stretch. She shook her head around, making her brown hair fly back and forth. “I’ll put on the coffee and then we can walk over to school.”
“Oh, joy”, I muttered, dramatically kicking off the blanket.
We made our way into the small kitchen area and I plopped down on a child-sized chair that accompanied a bistro table in the corner of her living room. Or maybe it was her kitchen. They kind of blended into one room. Olivia grabbed the electric kettle and filled it with tap water.
“Don’t forget about your apartment viewings later at 4 o’clock,” she said, hitting the power button on the kettle.
“I won’t”, I muttered, followed by another yawn. “Thanks, mom.”
“So last night”, she started, grabbing two matching mugs from the overhead cabinet. “I actually thought about something you could do for money. You know, for rent and food. All of that good stuff.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“When I was on the phone with Alex, he mentioned that the school is offering a few new Work Study programs for students who need help paying for tuition this year. The pay isn’t amazing, but you’d get research experience that you could put on your résumé. You’d definitely qualify, considering you have no job and you’re basically homeless.”
“Who knew my homelessness could help further my academic career?” I said, getting up to grab the skim milk from the fridge. “Did he say how I go about applying for this gig?”
Olivia poured a generous amount of milk into her coffee, leaving any sugar substitutions out of it. “He