You'll Find Me in Manhattan Read online

  Eleven – Amalia

  I knew there was a chance I’d regret this, but I couldn’t help it. Michael had left me hanging, essentially stood me up, and embarrassed me in front of our closest friends.

  I was mortified.

  I can’t remember how long it had been since Hayden had sent me the text message in which he asked if we could be friends. At the time, it seemed like a terrible idea. I always thought being friends with an “ex” was a recipe for disaster. I looked at it as a selfish excuse for keeping someone in your life without offering them anything other than a watered-down version of what you used to mean to each other. And if you’re not careful, you’ll end up having sex with them, ruining said friendship. How could you get over them or keep your dignity in tact while experiencing them moving on to another?

  But I didn’t care about any of that right now. Cassandra was gone, my relationship with my parents was basically non-existent, I hadn’t spoken to my brother in months, and who knows what was going on between Michael and me. Not to mention having to watch Olivia and Alex being the perfect couple all of the time was making me feel more than a little uncomfortable in my own skin.

  I was walking fast, weaving in and out of crowds of tourists as I made a beeline for the subway. As the harsh wind hit my face over and over again, feeling like a slap of reality with each gust. This is who Michael had always been, and possibly who he always would be. I pulled myself over and dug around in my purse for my cell phone and a hair tie. I found my phone and immediately opened my messages. Of course, there was nothing more from Michael. I hadn’t even written him back after he told me he couldn’t make it. I honestly had nothing to say. We weren’t officially a couple, and this was one of those grey areas where I wasn’t sure how much disappointment or anger I was allowed to show him. Instead of composing a passive-aggressive text to him, or possibly an all-out aggressive one, I decided to text someone else altogether.

  I scrolled through my message threads until I found Hayden’s name and clicked on it. It was a Sunday afternoon and I expected him to be out with a friend, or possibly on a date, but I took my chances and shot him a text.

  “Hey! Hope you’re doing well. Sorry it took me so long to write back but if you’re still up for it, I’d like to try this whole “friendship” thing. It’s short notice, but I’m free this afternoon if you’re around.”

  As I waited for Hayden’s response, I opened the Facebook application on my phone and went directly to Michael’s profile. I absentmindedly s s crolled through his timeline, which was pretty scarce. He hardly ever updated anything; just a few statuses about his favorite football team, the New York Giants.

  I swiftly moved my fingers from his timeline up to his photos. I had never really gone through his profile page with a fine tooth comb, but for some reason today I felt the need to. There are moments in relationships where you feel like you know absolutely nothing about the person you’ve shared so much with. This was one of those times.

  There were two albums: one labeled “family” and one labeled “miscellaneous”. I started with the album called “family” and scrolled my way through a dozen photos of him, his parents, and his sister. This was the first time I had ever seen photos of them, and it had just occurred to me that I didn’t even know his parents’ names. I clicked on one of the photos to find out, but neither his mother nor father was tagged in them, so I had no way of knowing. I let out a sigh and moved on to the other album. This one was much smaller, only about five photos. One of him and Alex standing outside of NYU’s Bobst Library, the picture being most likely taken by Olivia. The rest of the photos were of him and his ex-girlfriend, Marge. The girl he had been cheating on with me. I winced as I remembered her slapping me across the face last year. A couple of the photos were taken in front of the tree in Rockefeller Center from a couple of years ago, but the rest were taken in Phoenix, Arizona. Adding insult to injury, my eyes scanned the photos of them comfortably lounging on outdoor furniture, donning sunglasses and holding frosty mugs in the hot Phoenix sun. I felt tears well up behind my eyes as I thought about Michael flying across the country to visit Marge, but unable to make it uptown to spend a few hours with me at a museum.

  Just as one warm tear hit my ice-cold cheek, my phone vibrated with a reply from Hayden.

  “Hi, Amalia! It’s great to hear from you. I’m actually free this evening if you want to grab a bite to eat…”

  I gasped. I expected a terse, apprehensive answer. What I got was a warm welcome. Something I wasn’t used to in my everyday life.

  I wasn’t sure what to do. Going out to eat seemed much more formal than grabbing a cup of coffee. I definitely didn’t want to mislead Hayden into thinking my intentions for seeing him were romantic. I deliberated for a few more minutes until I finally came up with a good idea. I tried to type quickly, but my fingers were getting more frozen by the second. After three autocorrects, I hit send.

  “Sure – how about the downtown Rosa Mexicana?”

  I felt a mixture of guilt and excitement over seeing Hayden. Truth be told, I had no reason to feel guilty about it. We were going to try to be friends, that’s all. Come to think of it, I don’t think Michael would mind even if he and I were exclusive. I got the feeling that when it comes to Michael, it takes a lot for him to let his guard down and show any true emotions. I took a deep breath as I realized I wasn’t exactly being honest with Michael about my own feelings. I was hurt when he didn’t show up at the museum. And not because he was too busy, those things happen and our program is extremely difficult. I was hurt and angry because of the way he handled it. A simple text message? At the very least, he could have called me and pretend to sound disappointed that we couldn’t spend the day together.

  When it came to my feelings for Michael, I was so happy to even be seeing him on a regular basis that I was afraid a fight would destroy any chance of a future together, so I held my tongue. On the same token, we had been dating for a few months now and there still had been no talk of putting a label on what we were doing.

  Then for a brief moment, I let my mind drift over to Dr. Greenfield and what he had said about going to therapy.

  I stared at the subway entrance, desperately willing Hayden to write me back quickly so I could get on the train and head back to my apartment. I was growing colder by the second. Whoever said autumn in New York was beautiful?

  A beat later, my phone vibrated with a message from Hayden. He had written that Rosa Mexicana sounded great and that he’d meet me there at seven. I shot off a quick, “See you there!” and hauled ass down into the subway entrance, determined to take a warm nap before meeting him for dinner.

  I arrived at Rosa Mexicana, the one in Union Square, at seven o’clock on the dot and was immediately greeted with the smell of warm tortilla chips, sizzling fajitas, and grilled vegetables. My mouth instantly began to water.

  I looked around the brightly colored restaurant hoping to spot Hayden. I was just about to take a seat on the wooden bench by the host stand when I found him sitting at the bar. He looked exactly the same as I remembered him. Light-brown hair, casually dressed in a button-down with the sleeves rolled up, somehow always looking casual but still having great style. To top it all off was, of course, the signature glass of bourbon in his hand. He sipped it slowly as he patiently waited for me to walk over to him. He wasn’t checking his phone or nervously looking around the room. He seemed calm. Relaxed. I smiled, and in nothing flat found my own shoulders relax as well.

  “How many?” a tall lanky host dressed in all black asked.

  “Two,’ I replied. “But is it alright if we eat at the bar?”

  “Of course,” he smiled politely.

  I slowly made my way over to Hayden, growing more anxious with every step. I had no idea what this conversation was going to be like, or how to even begin. Should I give him a hug? A handshake? Or should I just sit right down and make some snappy comment on something. As I approached the bar area, I noticed only a few other
people were sitting down. Most of the restaurant’s patrons had opted for a booth or table, giving us two some privacy. A beat later I was standing right behind him and realized that I had no idea what I was doing.

  “Amalia,” he said my name softly and unhesitatingly stood up to hug me. “It’s so great to see you.” He lifted me slightly off the ground as he hugged me. I could feel the bottoms of my shoes gently graze the floor. Slowly, he released me from the hug a a nd took a step back. His eyes scanned every inch of me, but not in a creepy way. It actually seemed as if he had seem a ghost.

  “Hi, Hayden,” I uttered through a shaky voice. I glanced down and realized my voice wasn’t the only thing that was shaking. My hands looked at if someone had just asked me to dismantle an atomic bomb. I quickly put my arms behind my back and took a step backwards.

  The bartender crossed over to us and raised his eyebrows, indicating that I should order.

  “Can I have a glass of sangria, please?” There was no way I could get through this encounter without some alcohol.

  The bartender gave me a quick nod and walked towards the other side of the bar. I pulled out the empty high-top chair next to Hayden and placed my jacket and purse on the back. Hayden reached for my arm, helping me hop onto the stool, which was surprisingly high. Buying myself time to calm my nerves, I smoothed over my clothes and ran my fingers through my hair. As soon as I did so, I remembered that my usual curls were straightened in an attempt to look good for Michael. My feelings switched from sadness to anger as I re-lived the embarrassment of him not coming to the museum. The bartender came back with my drink and placed it down in front of me and I muttered a low thank you.

  “How have you been?” I finally uttered. Hayden seemed happy to see me, but I was still expecting some pent-up resentment for me ditching him for Michael back in February.

  “Honestly?” he raised an eyebrow. He took his drink in his hand and swirled the amber-colored liquid. “I’m alright, I guess.” He offered me a smile, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t in a good place.

  “Just alright?” my heart started to race. I knew this was the moment that Hayden was going to let me have it.

  He shrugged one shoulder and then nodded. “Work’s been going well,” he paused to take a sip of his drink. His eyes stayed fixed on the wooden bar. “So well, in fact, that they’ve offered me a promotion.”

  “That’s great!” I patted him on the back and he gave me a weak smile. “Why don’t you seem more excited about it?”

  He shook his head. “I know I should be. I’ve enjoyed my time at Ernst and Young so far, and now I’ll be in an even better position there. It comes with a raise and even a company car.”

  “A car?” I laughed. “What would you do with a car in New York City?”

  Hayden looked straight into my eyes and I felt my heart sink. “The job isn’t in New York City. If I take the offer, I would be relocating.”

  It was always shocking to me when people leave New York. It’s something everyone at one point or another says they’re going to do, but hardly anyone really does. I think they subconsciously know that if they had to leave the city, they would have no other choice than to actually cut the crap and grow up.

  I swirled the tiny straw in my Sangria. “Where is the job located? New Jersey?”

  He let out a soft chuckle. “No, it’s a little farther than that. Ironically the company wants to move me into their Gainesville office.” He kept his eyes on his drink, but didn’t take a sip. “It’s funny, really, I spent so many years trying to make it in New York and it looks like now I may be moving back home.”

  “To Florida?” the word caught in my throat and I felt my face drop. Hayden was thinking about moving a thousand miles away.

  “The opportunity sort of presented itself at a perfect time,” he added, and then finally took a small sip of his bourbon. “I’ve been thinking about leave New York for the past couple of months now.”

  “Why move?” was all I could muster up.

  He cleared his throat and looked back to my eyes. I didn’t know if it was the stress of the city or something else going on in his life, but for the first time I really felt that Hayden was older than me. As he maintained eye contact, he donned a forced smile. I felt sorry for him. He wasn’t the same Hayden I knew anymore. He seemed broken.

  “Because there’s no reason for me to stay,” he replied simply. “There’s nothing left for me here.”

  I looked down at the floor as I tried to think of something persuasive to say, but I came up with nothing. Hayden had always been flexible when it came to living in this city. Unlike Olivia and Alex, who I was positive would only move out of New York after their second child was born, Hayden was more untethered than that. Just as I was a native New Yorker he was a native of Florida, and to him that would always be his true home.

  “What about your friends here?” I asked, pulling at straws. “Won’t you miss them?”

  Hayden shook his head. “They’re my coworkers. Sure, I grab a beer with some of them every now and then. But they’re acquaintances at best.” He wasn’t looking at me again, and I wondered as he was telling me if this was the first time he ever really thought about his friendships. “It’s not very easy to make new friends in your late twenties.” He lifted his eyes again. Each glance in my direction made me feel nervous.

  “I guess I can understand that,” I offered. “It’s different for me because of NYU. But I can relate to some of how you’re feeling.” I took a pause and suddenly felt the urge to take a long sip of my sangria. “For example, Cassandra doesn’t even speak to me anymore.”

  I would usually feel my eyes threaten to tear whenever I thought about my best friend and me no longer speaking. This time was different; I didn’t feel like crying. Oddly, I didn’t feel much of anything at all.

  Hayden opened his mouth to say something, but the bartender cut in.

  “Are you guys ready to order?” he leant over the bar, his eyes rolling over to our menus.

  “Just a few more minutes,” I said.

  The bartender nodded and scurried back to the other side of the bar, which was suddenly packed with customers.

  “What happened between you and Cassandra?” Hayden asked in a sympathetic voice.

  It had occurred to me that the only other person I had talked to about Cassie was Olivia. Even Michael wasn’t privy to my feeling about Cassandra and me falling out. I started at the beginning, how last year when she picked me up from the airport, she seemed more interested in partying on Fire Island than she was in seeing her best friend who had been gone for a few months. I went on to describe everything that she had done. Her aloof behavior, the party Olivia and I had attended which I called Hayden to come and rescue me from. I went through all of it, right up to the time I had seen her at the Union Square farmers’ market and she turned the other way.

  “This has been going on for that long?” a look of surprise taking over his face. “How come you never told me about all of this while we were dating?”

  That was a good question. Why hadn’t I told Hayden about Cassandra’s neglect of our friendship? Even when I would talk to Olivia about it, it would be a brief complaint and then a quick change of subject.

  “I think I’m beginning to realize that I’m not very good at handling my emotions, Hayden.” I felt my shoulders sink in this moment of self-reflection. “But you probably already know that, seeing as I ran away from you in February.” I stared at my cuticles, ashamed at my past behavior.

  Hayden looked at the floor and then took a deep breath, repositioning himself on the chair.

  “I’m sorry about that,” I said as earnestly as possible. “That was cowardly of me.”

  He pursed his lips and gave a small nod. I couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with me or simply uncomfortable with this conversation.

  “Are you with Michael now?” he asked in a shaky voice.

  “We’re dating, yes. But we aren’t in a relationship yet.”


  “How come?”

  I paused for a moment, running my fingers over the shiny menu. “He wants to take things slow.”

  Hayden just nodded. I could tell he didn’t want any more information on the topic, so I didn’t offer any. He picked up his menu from the bar and flipped it open. “So, what’s good here?” he smiled.

  I hesitated for a moment and then said, “Everything.” Relieved to be essentially off the hook, I followed suit and picked up my menu. The bartender began to walk by again but I held up one finger, indicating we would be ready in just a minute.

  “Do you know what you want?” I asked, closing my plastic menu.

  For a moment our eyes locked and I felt a familiar feeling wash over me. It was the feeling I had always had with Hayden. Complete comfort.

  “Yep.” He smiled again, this time it felt genuine. He folded his paper napkin and placed it on his lap. “Do you, Amalia?”

  “Yeah,” I shrugged.

  “Well, then,” he chuckled before taking a sip of bourbon. “That’s a first.”

  Twelve – Olivia

  Halloween was this up-coming weekend, which meant one thing here in New York City.

  Disaster.

  The city took on a life of its own, pulsating with the energy of inebriated twenty-somethings.

  Being obsessed with holidays and everything that went along with them, Alex had, of course, procured our costumes nearly a month ago. He decided we would be characters from Game of Thrones, his favorite show, and I agreed. For my costume I would be donning a platinum-blonde wig and a light-blue dress with a metallic belt around the waist, dressed up of course as Khaleesi, Mother of Dragons. I wasn’t sure what he was going to be wearing, but I believed it to be a toned-down version of a knight costume. Chain metal was pretty heavy. To make matters worse we would be attending the opening night at some club I had never heard of, in a part of town I dreaded. Morningside Heights. This is a neighborhood in Manhattan that spans from West 110th to 125th. If you looked on a map, you could see it stretching from the east end of Morningside Park to the Hudson River.