Beautiful Together (20 page)

"You asshole!"

"I can explain!" Josh pleaded, the most ineffective and pathetic statement in the world.

I furtively crawled out of the room on my hands and knees, adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I stood up when I was in the hall, but then a flying shoe zinged by my head like a bullet and hit the wall hard behind me. The sound echoed as it hit the hardwood floor.

I yelped and dropped to my knees again, crawling, escaping. I was mortified to discover that the projectile had a stiletto heel—it could have done some serious damage.

Safe in the living room, I righted my top and grabbed my purse and shoes. I wasn't even going to stop to put them on. As I opened the door to escape, I heard his voice.

"Naomi, wait!" Then he cried out in pain. "Dammit, Shelly, would you quit throwing shit?" It was satisfying to hear his pain.

I slammed the apartment door shut, just as more shouting broke out. I fled down the hall in my socks and rushed down the stairs. When I got to the bottom, I put on my shoes and rushed outside.

Via some minor miracle, I managed to immediately hail a cab that was passing by. It was an expensive ride compared to the subway, but a very necessary one. I was still in too much shock to be concerned about cab fares.

Fifteen long minutes later, I was home, the apartment empty other than me. No surprise. They were probably still dancing and shoving bottles of water in each other's faces.

I went into my room and collapsed in my bed. And then I suddenly realized that I had left my costume in Josh's apartment, the whole big cardboard laptop frame that I had worked on all week. A surprise gift for the cheater.

I started laughing until I was crying.

24

The next week flew by, and actually, I got over the whole Josh thing almost instantly. It became nothing but a funny story. Arielle and Elise had found it hilarious, and, yeah, somehow I had survived. I would just have to try again and hope it went better next time.

As I mentally and physically prepared for London, I thought about the positive interaction with my dad. It was definitely something positive to focus on. Progress.

And then from those thoughts of home, I thought about Donna. I wondered what she was doing, if things had improved for her. The last I knew—which was right before we moved to New York—was that Dennis had moved back home so she wouldn't be alone.

And strangely enough, I wondered about Jesse, too.

Whatever happened to him? Whatever happened to our friendship?

I still didn't know.

Thursday night, I loaded up my suitcase, reminiscing about home until Arielle suddenly barged in.

"Make sure you pack a bathing suit," she said. "My aunt has an indoor pool at her apartment."

"Cool." I nodded and went to my closet to dig for my bathing suit.

"Are you excited?" she asked. "It's gonna be awesome."

"Definitely. I can't wait."

She smiled. "Okay, well, I just wanted to tell you that." She turned around and left abruptly, so quickly it actually made me giggle.

Soon after that, I was done. The packing had gone a lot faster than I expected. I dragged my luggage into the living room, leaving it beside Arielle's bags.

I sat down to hang out with her. I didn't really feel like being alone.

We smoked weed and lamented about the fact that Elise wasn't coming after she joined us.

"You can come next year though," Arielle said.

"We're going again next year?" I asked.

"Of course," she said. "With Elise."

"I'll be making the big bucks by then. You just wait and see. I'll probably be managing my own salon, and I'll be styling the hair of asshole Wall Street guys every day for huge tips. My dream job," she said sarcastically.

"I know it's gonna happen," Arielle said proudly. "You're the best hairstylist I know."

"How do you even know? I've never cut your hair," she added playfully.

We all laughed the night away, high and happy. It sucked that Elise wasn't coming, but it would be fine. In less than two weeks, we'd be home and everything would return to normal.

I was going to get what I needed—a break, an escape, a journey.

It was a good night, and it would be a
great
trip.

Since it was an international flight, we had to be at the airport two hours early, which meant five in the morning. We ended up goofing around in the living room until after two. Way too late, but at least we could sleep on the plane.

Goodbyes said to Elise, we headed to our respective rooms.

I was ready for something new.

25

My alarm went off the very second I started to pass out. I couldn't figure out why we tried to sleep at all.

After a quick stop in the bathroom, we grabbed our bags and headed to the subway for the AirTrain journey. We both dozed intermittently, using our backpacks as pillows while the train rattled and rushed along the tracks.

At the airport, we went through a long line for international flights. We stayed close, nudging each occasionally so we didn't fall asleep standing up. I felt both exhausted and totally ecstatic.

Finally, after getting through security, we went to our gate. And not long after that, we were on a plane headed to Heathrow Airport. I was so excited to have a window seat.

The take off was smooth and the morning sky was clear and beautiful. I watched NYC shrink and disappear below as we headed across the Atlantic. I hadn't flown in many years, not since a family trip to Florida when I was in eighth grade. The whole experience was fresh.

But as much as I wanted to be awake for the journey, I fell asleep quickly. One second awake, the next passed out cold.

I missed the whole trip. The next time I opened my eyes, we were already touching down, the sudden jolt of the wheels against the runway startling me. I stared out the window—the sun was already setting, and I had slept until the evening in London.

I gazed over at Arielle. "Did you sleep much?" She appeared to have woken at the same time I did.

"The whole damn flight," she said, rubbing her eyes. "And I was only planning on taking a short nap. You?"

"Same."

There was a brief conversational lag as we slowly approached full consciousness.

"We're here," Arielle said, extending her smile until it reached almost inhuman proportions.

"We made it!" I said. "We crossed a whole ocean."

"Damn right we did."

I let Arielle lead the way. When we got into the airport, we collected our checked bags and went through customs. I was too giddy to be annoyed by the long lines.

After that was behind us, we sat down and Arielle called her aunt.

As it turned out, Arielle's aunt's apartment had a free pickup service for guests, and there was already a car on its way. So we had twenty minutes to kill.

We grabbed paninis in the food court
and then sat down in the arrivals section. It wasn't until I unwrapped the sandwich that I realized just how hungry I was. I wolfed the whole thing down in no more than five bites.

"I don't know much about London," I said, swallowing the remainder of my sandwich.

"I know some cool neighborhoods," Arielle said. "My aunt's neighborhood is pretty wealthy and upscale, but my cousin Amy lives in a cooler one. It's a huge city."

Just as promised, a small black luxury car pulled up about twenty minutes later. The driver smiled at us.

"Ello ladies," he said as he loaded our suitcases into the trunk.

"Hi," we both said back. His heavy accent, paired with the realization that we were really in London, instantly made me smile.

We hopped inside and let the driver close the back door. It wasn't a limo, but it
was
fancy. Getting through customs had taken a while, so it was even darker than when we landed. I couldn't see much as we drove down M4.

On the ride, Arielle told me more about her Aunt Catherine.

"So she's your dad's sister then?" I asked.

"Yeah. She moved here like ten years ago and now she's really high up in this financial company. It was only supposed to be a temporary gig, but she never wanted to leave. And Amy liked it too, even though she basically had to leave all of her friends behind in New Jersey. Plus, her ex-husband is kind of a deadbeat, so she wanted to get away from him. I mean, they both did."

"That's good," I said.

About twenty-five minutes later, we pulled up in front of the luxury apartment complex in Mayfair where Catherine lived. It was a gorgeous, tall brick building with wide balconies at every window. We stopped under an awning, grabbed our bags, and headed inside.

Arielle checked in at the lobby desk and then we sat down on a bench. There were polished marble floors and a fountain running in the center.

A couple minutes later, the elevator opened and Arielle's face lit up. "Aunt Catherine!" she called as she rose to her feet. I slowly trailed behind.

"My favorite niece!" Catherine was maybe an inch shorter than Arielle, slender with Auburn hair, her eyes bluish-green behind a pair of considerably hip glasses. I was expecting her to have an accent, but then I realized that she spent most of her life in the United States and felt a little dumb.

She was wearing a pair of jeans and a red blouse. Arielle had told me how great she looked for someone fast approaching fifty, and I definitely agreed.

They hugged in the middle of the lobby while I stood on the side.

"You look so good!" Arielle said.

"And you look stylish as always, dear. And who's this beautiful girl over here?" She hugged me before I could respond.

"I'm Naomi," I announced softly.

"Hi, Naomi," she said, close to my ear. "I'm Catherine. But you can call me Cat."

I laughed. "Hi, Cat," I said, testing out the name. "It's so nice to meet you."

We all jumped in the elevator and headed upstairs.

Catherine's apartment was amazing. Hardwood floors, high ceilings, a fireplace, a kitchen full of stainless steel appliances, a private balcony with an amazing view. We noisily dragged the suitcases along the floor, the sound echoing down the entry hall.

The living room was filled with interesting furniture, the walls adorned with pieces of contemporary art. There was an uncorked bottle of wine and a half-filled glass sitting on the granite countertop in the kitchen.

After we settled into our rooms, we had some wine and good conversation. The more Catherine talked, the more I loved her.

She drank and laughed with us for hours, serving us whatever we wanted. Very much like Curt, unsurprisingly. Our conversation took all kinds of interesting directions, touching on music and movies and art and drinking and everything in between.

Catherine loved London, loved her job, loved her daughter and her family. She was an incredibly positive person.

And as it turned out, Amy was in veterinary school at the University of London. I was super excited to ask her questions after her exam on Wednesday. Veterinary school had been my primary choice when I was actually filling out college applications.

By midnight, Catherine was ready to go to bed, but Arielle and I decided to go out and grab a drink.

"I know a good place," Arielle said. "Within walking distance."

"The Red Bar?" Catherine instantly guessed.

Arielle nodded. "That's exactly it."

"Good choice," she said. "They always play music I like. I use that Shazam app on my phone to figure out what it is so I can find it later. Amy put it on there for me."

"You're so cool, Aunt Catherine," Arielle said, smiling.

Catherine laughed and then headed down the hall. "Well, goodnight!"

After we straightened up our appearances, Arielle grabbed the extra key off the counter and led us downstairs.

The Red Bar turned out to be a nice place, and the music was good, just as Catherine had said. It was also very
red
inside. We both got champagne and chilled out.

It was the perfect way to end the night.

***

The next few days were spent exploring London, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the city—while jet-lagged. We visited the Tate Modern art gallery, rode the London Eye Ferris wheel, went to some rock shows at the Barfly, and ate at some of the best restaurants ever.

A lot of it was just tourist stuff, but Arielle insisted that I thoroughly experience as much of the city as possible, whether the individual stops were actually cool or not. But I enjoyed every place we visited anyway.

Most of the time we were drunk, stuffed, or some combination of both.

There was, however, a bit of a serious cultural shock compared to NYC. Most pubs and restaurants closed really early, at nine or ten on some nights. The tipping culture wasn't the same in London—servers got a proper hourly wage instead of surviving on tips—so that was nice. Beer and wine seemed to be cheaper than NYC, but not cocktails.

The London Underground didn't run all that late either, and several times we had to reroute our trips into the city due to maintenance on major lines. Oh, and not to mention that taxi drivers sometimes totally refused us after we told them our destination.

If you were young and wanted to hang out late on the weekends, clubbing was really your only option.

So after Amy's exam on Wednesday, we finally met up. We took a train to Shoreditch to go out for dinner.

Amy's apartment was in a good-sized two story brick house, probably four or five bedrooms in all. It was split into two duplexes down the middle, and her place was on the right side. She lived with two roommates, one guy, and one girl.

Amy met us at the front door in a flowery skirt and a denim jacket, her style uncannily similar to Arielle's. They hugged so aggressively I feared I was witnessing an attack and
not
a gesture of affection.

"Oh, God, I'm so glad to see you!" Amy said. She looked just like her mom, that same auburn hair, but younger and without glasses. "I've been so damn wrapped up in these exams. All of my dreams are of surgery on dogs and cats. And diagrams of their respective anatomies."

"I was worried you were never gonna come out and play," Arielle said.

"Yeah, you know me too well," she said. "It wouldn't be the first time I locked myself away for weeks."

"Amy, this is my best friend in the world, Naomi," Arielle added.

"Hi," I said. "I've heard so many good things about you."

"Well, if Arielle likes you, then I like you," Amy said warmly, leaning forward and hugging me gentler than she had Arielle.

"I wanna hear about veterinary school," I said. "I'm... uh, considering it."

She shot me a wry smile. "You must be as crazy as me then, huh?"

I laughed. "I guess so."

We headed out, struggling to keep up with Amy who was clearly on autopilot.

After a ten minute walk from Amy's, we settled into a tiny Turkish restaurant, a place that only had seating for maybe twenty people total. The owner recognized Amy as we entered, and seated us immediately.

We shared a couple of platters, gorging on pita and hummus, stuffed grape leaves, and a big salad. And then we enjoyed all sorts of kebobs, the meat and veggies cooked perfectly, everything juicy and flavorful. There was bread on the side too.

Amy told us about her exams and how things had been going. "I hope my mom hasn't been driving you crazy," she said at one point.

"You know I love your mom," Arielle said, borderline defensively. "She's great. I always look forward to seeing her."

Amy scoffed quietly. "Yeah, well, try living with her. That'll change your opinion fast." She shook her head and took another bite of kebob. "But maybe I'm too harsh."

"It's not a big deal," Arielle said. "But I know what you mean. Not everyone gets along with their parents."

I swallowed hard after realizing how true that statement was. She had obviously said it as a platitude, but once again, I knew the feeling all too well.

"I sure could use a beer," I announced in the silence, hoping to get back to fun instead of ugly introspection.

"I know a nice pub. And then I think we should go out clubbing. At least once."

"Just
once
?" Arielle said incredulously. "We went out every night the last time I was here. Are you still recovering or something?"

"Shut up," she said. "You knew what I meant. And I didn't want to force Naomi if, y'know, she didn't want to."

"I can keep up just fine," I said.

"Okay, so
more than once
," Amy said, grinning.

After we took care of the check, we headed to a pub a few blocks away, hopping into a booth in the back corner. Arielle got us a round of beers, and we downed them quickly.

When we were done, we headed out to a place called Cable. The crowd was great and the music was
loud
. My brain felt like it was vibrating in my skull—in a good way. And it was mostly electro/house music, so the bass was a force to be reckoned with.

We danced until we basically couldn't dance anymore, until the point in which a shower seemed more appealing than another drink. Finally, a little after two, we headed out into the night and back to our respective homes after taking a bus.

It was just another night in London.