Broken (26 page)

“Don't act like you're not fittin' to replace our other best,” Frenchy said.

“Your best,” Sierra said.

“We're bests. We haven't known Cara that long to be bests,” I said.

“I second that. Best must be earned,” Sierra said.

Frenchy turned on the television. “I'm hungry,” I said.

“Chef C is on vacation. We have to order,” Sierra said.

“Yeah, something good, like burgers,” Frenchy said.

“I'll text Daddy's assistant to order us from the spot she ordered from last week. Turkey burger, M?” Sierra said.

“Do they have good turkey burgers?” I asked.

“The best. Juicy, not dry.” Sierra said.

“I'll try it and onion rings,” I said.

“Such a bad girl,” Frenchy said. Sierra gave me a funny look. There was always something with them.

“I can be bad. I'm just not that good at it,” I said.

“I second that.” Frenchy laughed.

“The Muppets movie is coming out this weekend,” Sierra said. Frenchy rolled her eyes in perfect timing. I couldn't imagine things any other way. I bet when they were five if Sierra suggested the movie Frenchy would kick and scream to get her suggestion in.

“Muppets?” The question had to be asked.

“Despite Frenchy's best acting efforts, the truth is we used to watch ‘The Muppets Take Manhattan' every weekend when we were little girls,” Sierra said.

“Me too, plus I used to watch ‘Beauty and the Beast' over and over again on Saturdays,” I said.

“I love Belle!” Sierra said. Frenchy arched an eyebrow. “I want to see Muppets!” Sierra said.

“Let's talk about that next week,” Frenchy said.

“Milan, don't bail on me. We have to go,” Sierra said.

“I'm in,” I said. I found myself wanting to say more. I wanted to ask them for help. “You know boarding school boy?” I asked.

“What about him? Did he finally leave? Ewu, who stays at school once they graduated?” Sierra said.

“Something like that,” I said.

“You've seen him?” Sierra asked.

“Only in passing.” I said.

“Forget it! Merek is the holy grail!” Frenchy said.

“So this guy you dream and drool over—you passed him by and didn't say or do anything?” Sierra said.

“It's not that simple. There wasn't a way,” I said.

“Good. If you pick over the good ones, only the hookah heads will be left,” Frenchy said.

“Frenchy, in your defense, he is hot in a grungy way,” I said

“There's the good girl. Always has your back. I bet you'd say that even if I wasn't here,” Frenchy said.

“What? Is she supposed to stick up for your lame boyfriend when you're not even here? Please!” Sierra said.

“If we could just get you even a kiss, Sierra, you would qualify to be in this conversation,” Frenchy said.

“That was mean,” I said. Frenchy got up and brushed her hair over her shoulder.

“I'm going to go find out where our food is.” Frenchy stormed out of the room.

Sierra came over to me. I was sitting at her computer desk zoning out the television on purpose. “I know something Cara doesn't know,” Sierra said. Those words always made me freak out. “Yesterday I saw Dimitri after class. He, well … um …” she smiled. In fact, she was blushing. I felt my face flush. “He said, ‘You know I have a tournament coming up.' I asked him what kind. At first, he went on about his training and his coach at the USTA in Queens.”

“Queens. Does he even know how to spell Queens?” I said.

“He does,” Sierra said.

“What is the USTA?” I said.

“Where they hold the U.S. Open. Tennis! Duh!” Sierra said.

It didn't seem like the time to admit, but I had never been to a U.S. Open match. Tennis wasn't my thing. Dimitri used to take tennis when Mama was alive. Daddy used to take him to the Open.

“So what tournament?” I asked.

“That's what I asked? He's qualifying for a spot in the U.S. Open. Maybe it's the amateur rounds. I don't know. I think they play out on the grass. Not in the stadium.”

“Are we talking about the same person?” I asked.

“I'm the only person he told. He asked me to come.” It was then I saw it. The twinkle in her eye was different. Something was happening between them. Kind of what I wished would happen between Noel and me. I wanted Noel to come to me. To tell me things. Which reminded me that Dimitri used to play tennis with his old girlfriend, Tai Simmons. I wondered if she was at this USTA business.

“But this is Dimitri. And he has a girlfriend. Nothing with him is to the point. There is always something up,” I said. Like how I had to give up my apartment for secrecy. How could he love Sierra? He's not nice!

“We're just friends,” Sierra said.

“I don't think so,” I said.

“Yes. Friends. I don't think he's as bad as you think.”

Noel and I were friends. Or supposed to be. Frenchy popped back into the room

“So I figure with M here you have to tell the truth. She brings out the good in us. Did you ever ask the psychic if you're going to hook up with someone who dives deep? I figure it will make my life easier if you do.” Frenchy jumped on Sierra's bed.

“Shut up, skank. And don't mess up my bed,” Sierra said.

“Neat freak.” Frenchy rolled her eyes.

“What's up with dinner?” I said.

“The delivery guy is on his way. And, M, he is way hot. I think we should meet him at the door,” Frenchy said.

“If you say so,” I said.

“She is so like my mom,” Sierra texted me.

“That's nice. You should tell her. Then maybe she'll let up on the boyfriend stuff,” I texted Sierra.

“We've got to do something about the prude. She's the last one to go. I'm afraid she'll go four years of college like this,” Frenchy texted me.

“In some cultures, it's a virtue. Be nice,” I texted Frenchy back.

“Have you picked out your prom dress yet?” Sierra asked.

“I haven't even picked out the shoes yet. I did see a pair of Diors at this store two months ago that caught my eye,” I said.

“It's so easy for you—you see beautiful dresses all the time. Of course you aren't sweating over a dress. Us laypeople, we need to start thinking about a dress now,” Sierra said.

“I don't want to talk about prom.” Frenchy stood up.

“Don't worry, I'll be your date.” Sierra laughed.

“Let's get the food, M.” Frenchy rolled her eyes. She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up to my feet.

“No.” Sierra grabbed me by the arm. “We're having a conversation. We want to talk about prom.”

“Maybe the butler can send the delivery guy back here and we can stay,” I said.

“I need a break.” Frenchy walked out.

“Ever since she started dating this guy, she has been so high maintenance,” Sierra said.

“I think she's always like this,” I said.

“I don't even know how I'll know,” Sierra said.

“Know what?” I asked.

“The perfect dress, when I see it,” Sierra said.

“The dress doesn't make prom special,” I said.

“You're right … you are so totally right! It's the date! I won't have one. Can I say right now we are not sitting with Cara and Dimitri? Maybe he just won't go with her.” Sierra covered her mouth. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's not true.”

“Well, they may go together. I don't think he's going to marry her. There will come a day.” I liked Cara more than before. But she took pride in being mean. And her staying with Dimitri could still be dangerous. I never did get the contract. This tennis thing—I didn't know him at all. No surprise.

“No, there's no day for us,” Sierra said.

“Tennis championships,” I said. We both laughed.

“We should throw a cool after-party,” Sierra said.

“I'm not a party-throwing kind of girl,” I said.

“Uh. Please. You're like half the reason people will even show up,” Sierra said. “I think Daddy's assistant could book us a room at the Plaza or the Oriental.”

“The Oriental is better. It's young.” I said.

“Sometimes you need a little bit of old-school,” Sierra said.

“When?” I asked.

“There will come a time,” Sierra said.

“Stop speaking like a palm reader,” I said.

“Food is in the house.” Frenchy carried three huge bags of the most delicious smelling fries and burgers.

“Pass the fries,” I said. We all piled on the floor and dug in.

“You can only stay if you agree to bring your iPad in here and help us search for dresses. We need as many screens going as possible,” Sierra said.

“Is this like a search sweatshop?” Frenchy said.

“No, because we're giving you lunch,” Sierra said.

“This is not a politically correct conversation,” Frenchy said.

“I forgot. Your BF is also a save-the-world junkie. Although he wears Nikes,” Sierra said.

“Back to prom. I am thinking pink for my dress,” I said.

“Really? I thought you would always go with white,” Sierra said.

“Maybe we should all go without dates. I mean prom is for us,” I said.

“I don't know about that,” Frenchy said.

“To be clear, we're just browsing today. I'm thinking black and tight,” Sierra said.

“I thought you were going to go with a Cinderella-style ball gown. And probably blue to match your eyes,” I said.

“I'm definitely dying my hair before prom,” Sierra said.

“If you don't, I will,” Frenchy said.

This was my fate for the rest of the evening. Bickering and prom on Park Avenue. With love.

What is love? Not a day goes by that I don't ask myself this. I wonder if what is in my heart is true and pure. Is it honest and never-ending? I think it's unrelenting, for sure. No matter how far he is from me. No matter how long it takes for him to find my heart. No matter what happens between us. My love for him is unrelenting.

I woke up one morning to the sun shining on my face. A feeling entered my heart. My mind told me that if I never felt him again, I would never be the same.

My friends would think it was impossible to feel like I did. The question is: Was I blessed, or was I cursed to have found a love for which I'd even die?

Heavy thoughts for 6 a.m. I felt a little heavy in my heart. He was so close, yet no closer to me.

It was so uncharacteristically warm out. The month was February. The weather was New York, early May. It was in the mid-60s. Daddy's driver took me downtown to the Meatpacking District. I waited outside. It was too nice to wait in the car. Some mornings, a latte was the only thing that made me feel sane. Mocha latte, that is. I was early. I'd been upstairs briefly. They said the photographer had stepped out for an unexpected errand. Truthfully, I didn't want to talk shop with hair and makeup, not this morning. I hadn't slept one night in my own bed in over a week. I had been holding my breath at school all week, hoping not to run into Merek. Then, this morning, I woke up feeling like I had made a grave mistake.

I thought about my conversation with the twins on the ride over. The twinkle in Sierra's eye was something I had never seen before. I was sort of homesick. And aggravated that Noel hadn't texted me once since he was home, since our talk. He acted as if I wasn't alive! I guessed I was doing myself in. I wasn't satisfied unless I felt miserable about my love life, which was now in shambles.

Zooming up the street was a sassy red Smart car. The driver inside had on the sexiest pair of Versace sunglasses to complement his helmet. Black on black, to be precise. The biker jacket was only second to his brilliant white smile. He parked the car right out front. Then he placed a Handicapped sign in the window.

“‘Belle' should be your name. Milan, because it is such a beautiful city, it will do.” Henri was a famed photographer in Europe for his top-shelf campaigns. Today, I was his. It was our second meeting. And our first time working together. I waved to Daddy's driver. Like that, he pulled off.

Henri whisked me off to the elevator. He welcomed me with the usual double kiss. His fragrance only brought me thoughts of Noel. I had to give this up. In my mind, if I was going to do my best work I had to be misery-free.

“What is your cologne?”

“None. You must sense my Aveda shower gel or shampoo.” No wonder it smelled so earthy. “You like?” He took his sunglasses and helmet off only to reveal a full-flowing caramel bob and piercing hazel eyes.

“Very much.”

“I knew you were the girl for me.”

“Yes!” Maybe he could have a talk with Noel.

“
Oui
. They come to me and say, ‘Henri, we need to embody effortless, youthful, carefree beauty.' I say I have seen it. I know her. You see, I never forget a face. They say, ‘How can you be sure?' Have I ever been wrong? I make them laugh. Only because they know it is true. I have a … penchant for beauty. This is why I have never been married. Beautiful women, they come to me. I do not know which one to pick. This is why I have never been married.”

“Why?” I asked. He stood silent. We were on the elevator, waiting to arrive at the eighth floor. Just before the elevator door opened, Henri turned to me. He leaned in close. One step further would have been uncomfortable. “No man will ever say no to you. So, of course you cannot understand why not marry. You will have your choice of every man under the sun. I promise you.”

“You think?” I asked.

He laughed. I wondered if he was laughing at me. That was something I didn't expect. He waited until I stepped out of the elevator. The stylist walked up to us. Then I noticed Henri turn to me. I held my breath. He was quite dramatic.