I hung up the phone and smiled. Thank goodness for Alex. I made a mental note that after we’d picked a wedding venue, we really needed to sit down and decide which doctoral programs we’d be applying to. I let out another sigh and tucked my cell into my back pocket.
As soon as I let go of it, my phone started vibrating. I grunted while quickly checking to see who it was. I had to look at the phone twice just to make sure I was reading it correctly. It was a text from my mother, who has never texted in her life.
She wrote, “Olivia, we need to talk in person. Meet me at the King Cole Bar at six o’clock.”
You have got to be kidding me. Why would I haul all of the way uptown just to talk to her when she’d been an absentee parent for years? Shaking my head, I took a few more steps closer to the computer lab. A moment later my phone buzzed again. This time, she had my full attention.
“It’s important, Olivia. It’s about Alex.”
On Thursday, I finally had a day off from Dr. Greenfield’s lab, but unfortunately it didn’t mean I had a day off from class. When the spring semester started back up last February, it became clear that getting the classes you wanted was nearly impossible. Now that we were in our final year, we didn’t get to choose anything.
Thankfully, working in the research lab counted as a course, which meant I was only taking two classes this semester, Family Studies on Tuesdays and Gender and Contemporary Issues. Gender and Contemporary Issues was today at one o’clock and lasted until three o’clock. Although I wasn’t thrilled with the required courses I had to take, this was the first time at NYU that I didn’t have class either first thing in the morning or at six o’clock at night.
I finished packing my bag and headed into my bathroom to spruce myself up a bit, saying a silent thank you every time I remembered what it was like to have two roommates. I really loved living alone.
I was meeting Olivia for lunch at twelve, and then we were going straight to class together. Michael was also in this class, so I needed to look good. Even after knowing him for two years, I still got nervous every time I was around him.
Class with Michael was sometimes a little awkward. We didn’t always sit directly next to each other, although we always sat in the same row with Olivia and Alex. I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly caused my discomfort, but I couldn’t help but compare myself to Olivia and Alex. They always looked like a couple. Even when they were sitting together in complete silence, there was this undeniable connection between the two of them. I wondered what people thought when they saw Michael and me sitting together. Or if they even noticed at all.
I swept the final coat of mascara over my lashes and rifled through my closet until I found a new lightweight jacket I had just bought from a boutique in the Village. I didn’t make a ton of money working at the school, but I made enough to buy something for myself every once in a while. I pulled off the tags and slipped my arms through the tan-colored coat sleeves. Grabbing my iPod, I dashed to the door and slammed it shut behind me.
As I was walked toward the subway terminal, I felt my cell phone vibrate through my purse. I decided I had better check it in case it was Olivia cancelling our plans. But it wasn’t from Olivia: it was from Hayden. My heart fell into my stomach and I begin to read the message.
“Hey, Amalia. I just wanted to see how you were. It’s been a while since I last spoke to you. I was hoping we could get together for a drink. Maybe we could try to be friends? Let me know when you’re available.”
I stood at the top of the subway terminal re-reading the message. A group of men on their way to work loudly cleared their throats behind me to get through. “Sorry,” I mumbled, stepping aside to let them pass. I had no idea how to respond, or if I even should. I shook my head and put my cell phone back in my purse, resolving to deal with Hayden’s message later.
One subway ride later, I was at Artichoke, one of my favorite pizza places in the city. Unfortunately, most of my appetite had been destroyed by anxiety. Olivia was already standing outside of the restaurant waiting for me, passively looking at something on her phone and smoking a cigarette.
“Is it just me, or is the subway becoming more disgusting with each passing day?” I muttered with a grimace. I didn’t want to talk to Olivia about Hayden’s message until I could fully process what it meant. Did I want to be friends with him? More importantly, why would he want to be friends with me after the way I treated him?
“It’s even worse when you’re coming from Brooklyn,” she slipped her cell into the back pocket of her jeans and flicked the cigarette on the ground. She looked down at it for a second and pursed her lips.
She had a sullen look on her face and her eyes were glassy. But before I could open my mouth to ask her what was wrong she started back up.
“Maybe I should try to quit smoking before the wedding.”
“Finally!” I shook my head. “Think of it as the first step towards saving up for your honeymoon.”
She let out a chuckle but it sounded a bit broken. Something was definitely wrong.
The host showed us to our seats and we settled into a small booth. Before we could even place our drink orders, Olivia began to grill me about my and Michael’s date.
“I asked him to be my date to your wedding,” I smiled. I could feel myself blushing and reached for a glass of water. Thinking about Michael as my wedding date was an instant mood boost. He would easily be the most handsome guy there.
“You do know we haven’t even set a date yet?” she replied in a mocking tone, without looking up from her menu.
“I know, and he still said yes!” I lightly tapped my hands on the table to get her attention.
“I’ll have him usher you down the aisle,” she offered, her gaze still on the menu. “Since he’s going to be a groomsman. Oh, and Alex and I are going to look at some venues this weekend, so we should know a date soon enough.”
For someone who was getting a dream wedding, she certainly didn’t seem very happy about it. I wondered if she and Alex had gotten into some kind of squabble.
I twisted a curl around in my finger and let out a soft sigh. For a moment I let myself image would it would be like to have a wedding of my own, even though I was in no rush to get married. I let the fantasy dance around my head. I envisioned a small wedding on a beach somewhere like the Virgin Islands. I would be wearing a short, but elegant, wedding dress, with a bouquet of brightly colored flowers. Michael in a crisp, linen suit, looking more perfect than ever.
Apparently Olivia noticed me day-dreaming because the next thing I saw was her snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Amalia. We’re splitting the pizza with the artichokes on it?” she cocked her head to the side.
“Obviously,” I said in a mocking tone. “So back to my date, we went out to dinner and it was wonderful.” I let out a dramatic sigh. I felt like a love-sick teenager and had no doubt in my mind that I was coming off as one too.
She seemed to consider this.
“What was the best part?” she leaned closer to me, her charm bracelets clanking on the table.
“Going back to his apartment and not feeling like I was doing anything wrong when I spent the night,” I laughed nervously as I remembered the days of sneaking around. “And then having coffee with him in the morning before I left. I felt like we were a real couple.”
“But you’re not, are you?” she asked, looking me straight in the eyes. “I mean, you’re not in a committed relationship.”
“No, not yet,” I swirled my straw around in my water glass. “But I’m sure it’s just