Broken (7 page)

I was on my way out the club. A few feet out the door and en route to the parking lot, I ran into Cece. Literally, she was tapping away on her Android and she almost ran into me. “Where are you headed?” Cece asked.

“Home,” I said.

“Oh, I thought you were going to that dreadful father-daughter thing.”

“That didn't work out.”

“I don't blame you. Last year, my Dad harassed me about going. It was so boring. It was all day. They say lunch, but the whole thing didn't wrap up until 6 p.m. I don't like getting all dressed up if I can help it. I'm a one-piece kind of girl,” she said.

“So I guess your uniform is sewn together. Shirt and skirt. You can just throw it on.”

“I wish!” I adored her simple teal romper and flip-flops. “I didn't know your hair is curly. So is mine!”

“Oh, I get tired of the blow dry. I'm hoping to play a little tennis and swim.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing today?”

“Nothing, I guess,” I said.

“Really? Do you want to play with me and my cousin?” she asked.

“Okay, cool.”

We took the elevator upstairs in silence. Cece checked her Android. I checked my iPhone. What was in a phone? My old bestie, Winter, had an Android. If Cece was anything like her, she'd maybe be just the breath of fresh air the A-list needed.

“My cousin isn't coming,” Cece shook her head.

“Why?” I asked. She had seemed so disappointed.

“It's summer. I was ditched for a boy. What other reason could it be?” she said. We walked to the surprisingly empty women's lounge on the second floor. The whole place was wall-to-wall gray slate.

“You ever imagine what it would be like without them?” I said.

“Nope. Even when they are not around, somehow they find a way to permeate in. My cousin, for instance, she goes to an all-girls high school. She's got a good head on her shoulders—at least, that's what my mother says. But, just like any of us, boys still intrigue and confuse her.”

“I think it's because of the magic. Sometimes, with a guy, you have something so special that when it's gone you just want it back.” Cece looked at me with relief in her eyes. Melissa burst through the doors. I had a way of positioning myself in a room where I could always keep an eye on the entrance and exit. I'd had one too many surprises in high school because I had my back to the door.

“Milan. Hey! I didn't expect to see you here. What up, baby?” Melissa walked over to me. I was standing in front of my locker, taking off my suit. Cece's locker was way down at the other end. Lockers weren't really available. They were vintage rentals. This had been my mother's locker for, like, 10 years. Cece was using her mother's locker too. Melissa gave me two air kisses. We weren't really close friends. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cece slip on a pair of sunglasses and walk to the toilets. Wow, was it like that? “So, what you up to?” Melissa asked.

“Going to play tennis with … some friends. What are you up to?” I asked.

“Gosh, a little sunbathing. Listen, Morgan is having a fire pit thing tonight around 8. You know, she's with Bobby now so all the cute basketball players will be there. You should come with. I'm going, Henrietta's going, and Trinity is going,” Melissa said.

“I … I don't know. I may need to phone a friend first.” I didn't know how to say no sometimes. Melissa looked at me as if I had just dropped dead in front of her. She exhaled deeply. The acting classes were certainly paying off. Today, a cheerleader; tomorrow, Guiding Light.

She leaned in to me closely. Then she covered one side of her mouth. “You are not referring to Cece, are you? She cannot come with,” Melissa said.

“Why is that?” I was much more annoyed than curious at this point.

“Duh, we can't have a case of the ex on our hands, can we? Listen, the twins or Cara are totally fine—just not H girl's arch nemesis. I'm way too smart to start it up.” My phone was vibrating in my bag.

“Deuces,” Cece texted.

“Thanks for the heads up. I don't know, though. If not, we'll catch up for lunch or something.” I double-kissed Melissa. Cece bolted out the door.

“What's going on?” I texted.

“Meet me at the courts,” Cece texted.

“Give me 10,” I texted.

I got dressed. I kept wondering what I should do. I had just met Cece like a day ago. I couldn't blame her for leaving at the mention of her ex. Anyone would, right? Who was her ex? The thought of anyone knowing about Noel and how I missed him made me want to crawl under a rock. It was like having someone else rip off your Band-Aid. I'd prefer to rip it off myself so at least I knew when the pain was coming. That was it. I decided to go play tennis and not make mention of this.

After the game, we sat on the side of the courts. “You're really good,” I said.

“Whatever. Not really. I used to play with my father. Then he moved,” Cece said.

“I've never played tennis with my Dad.”

“Parents. My mom says sometimes it takes parents a little while to get it right. They're human too.” She smiled. I was quiet for a moment.

“Do you want to sleep over my house tonight?”

“Okay. Let me ask my mom.” Cece texted her mother. “Thanks for not asking.”

“It's okay. I don't have to know about it. If you don't want to tell, that's fine.”

“It was a while ago …” Cece paused for a moment. She started staring at her fingers. Her right eye began to twitch. It was a little weird.

I put my head on her shoulder. “Let's grab a bite. Maybe you can show me your backhand slice later,” I said.

“How is the lunch going?” Merek texted.

“I skipped it.”

“Are you free for dinner?” he asked.

“No.” I wasn't sure what to do with him. Soon the answer would be kissing him.

We never talked about Melissa's comments again.

“Ladies, lunch is served!” Lisa's chef, Cook, said. I had to ask him like three times if that was his real last name. He was very handsome. I don't know, he was like 30 or so. Definitely older than 25. He showed me a picture of his wife and two kids, a girl and a boy. They all lived on 96th Street on the West side. He was an all-natural celebrity chef. He couldn't stop smiling when I asked him how old his kids were and what they wanted to be when they grew up. He seemed like the kind of dad every dad should be like.

“What are you thinking about after school? Staying in New York or going to Paris?” Lisa asked.

“It depends on what good colleges are in Paris,” I said.

Lisa laughed. “You could be making $3 million a year. Why slow things with college? We have to strike while the iron's hot.”

“Beauty and brains are a lethal pair,” I smiled. Inside, though, I wanted to wince at the sight of her throwing her head back in hysterics.

“What am I going to do with you?” Lisa said.

“How about shopping this afternoon? I received an invite to the new MIX IT boutique premiere. There's an after-party,” I said.

“Oh, you know Stew loves Hamptons events. I'm partied out for this weekend. But we can do something next weekend.”

“Want to get a bite?” Cara texted.

“Can't,” I texted.

“Later?” Cara texted

“Not sure of plans yet?” I texted

“LOL. Sounds like a Merek run. Does he taste as good as he looks?” Cara texted.

Gross! No wonder Frenchy and Cara got along so well. Both hot tamales.

“You're just like Demini, texting at the table. Chipmunk, your mahi mahi is getting cold!” Lisa said.

“Sorry!”

“You should sleep over. You know Demini, my niece from Florida, she will be out next week!”

“What part of Florida is she from?”

“Do you know, I think it's somewhere over by Key West?”

“I have a good friend in Miami,” I said.

“Good, we have something booked for you toward the end of the month in Miami. You should stay a day extra and visit your friend.”

“She's in Paris for the summer with her mom,” I said.

“That's the way to do it. Maybe we can do a spa day next weekend with Demini.”

“I'm in.”

“Demini is going to take a summer writing class in the city in August. She's not going to college. Instead, she's moving to Los Angeles this fall to get into the business,” Lisa said.

“She sounds very fun!” I really had no idea what to think. I wasn't giving up college. I was gung ho about NYU. Mom went there. Daddy was a Dartmouth guy. Mama had dated another Dartmouth guy before Daddy. At first, she didn't even like my Dad. My mother happened to be visiting my grandmother the week she met my father.
My grandmother told me she had to convince my mother not to be so narrow-minded. She coaxed her into answering his calls. And now look how he remembers Mama. He doesn't!

“Do you tweet?” Lisa asked.

“No.”

“Do you have an account on Twitter, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. MilanParkAve.”

“Great. We have a new PR unit and we want to focus on you. They are launching social media campaigns for our top clients.”

“As long as it doesn't involve me blogging. I don't want to write about what I'm doing every day.”

“They will take care of everything.”

“Dessert is served at the window seat. Lemon meringue tarts with handmade strawberry ice cream. A pomegranate, blackberry, banana smoothie at your request,” Cook smiled at Lisa.

“This is the best smoothie, sweetheart. A must try!” Lisa smiled.

“How are things going?” Merek texted. I hadn't gotten back to him since he asked me to dinner.

“Still awake. Seriously—kind of fun,” I texted. The window seat had a view of her huge, beautiful backyard and the new garden she'd been working on. Lisa started talking on her cell phone.

“Milan, where are you? Today I would like to take you for burgers at this cool place near my house?” he texted. Cece and I checked his Tracebook page last night. The video he took of me at the party was on there.

“No. Rain check. Monday or Tuesday,” I texted.

“Stewart will be here any minute,” Lisa said.

“Busy girl. I hope you can find time to see poor Merek.”

“You can always play that video of me if you miss me,” I texted.

“I have.”

“Uhh!”

“Are you mad?” he texted.

“Can you take it off your TB page?”

“How did you see? It is private,” he texted.

“I don't know, I just searched.”

“Uhh!”

“You mad?” I texted.

“Not really. Just making fun of you. I will take it down if you agree to go to for burgers tomorrow night.”

“Why at night?” I texted.

“Stars.”

I noticed Lisa taking a piece of my pie. “Hey,” I said.

“You didn't look like you were eating it.” Had she totally finished her own piece already? I remembered my mother once telling me that nice girls never inquired about
what others had eaten. Something about the smell of that pie reminded me of Noel. He loved pie. The first summer he came with us to SH we swam every single day. Then we'd get a slice of pie at the club after. Whatever they had on special. His favorite was sweet potato.

Noel was a really good swimmer, I remembered. We'd swim at the club and then go get lunch together. Mama would pick us up afterward. One day he said to me, “If my Mom hadn't died, I just wish she could be with me and I could be here with you. We could all be together doing things like how we do things with your mom. That would be like heaven.” I held his hand then put my head on his shoulder. I remember wishing for him that his mother were there too. Now I knew too well how he felt. He was so funny. He had these all-American swimming trunks. They had red, white, and blue stripes on the sides.

“Where did you get those swim trunks?” I asked him.

“They were on a major, major sale at an outlet. The greatest part is that my trunks are green. One hundred percent bamboo.”

“Whoa,” I said.

“Forget my trunks. Let's practice your backstroke some more. I'll spot you.”

“I don't, I can't.” I was so nervous I couldn't even think straight. “No deep end.”

“Stop it, Milan,” he said.

“I can't go past five feet.”

“No, just relax. I'll be with you the whole time. Come on, just turn onto your back and move your arms like I showed you,” he said. Every day he made me practice my
backstroke. Now it was my favorite way to swim freestyle. I felt a smile on my lips. That's when I started reading Lisa's lips.

“I bought Stewart season tickets to the Knicks for his birthday. You kids can go,” Lisa said. Back to reality, I had to remind myself.

“Maybe.” Yikes! Lunch was amazing, but if Lisa was trying to add another boy to my list I would have to kindly decline. I was beginning to question my love. What was love made of? Was it possible for me to love again if I was already in love? Was I in love with Noel still? Everywhere I looked something in South Hampton reminded me of him.

“S.O.S.,” I texted Sierra. I was on my last bite of the most decadent Southern-style lemon meringue pie, second only to my grandmother's. If the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, Mama's mom could definitely show me how to win Noel.

“Oh, I have to show you my new office space.” There was more.

“Okay.” Anything other than Stewart was a topic of interest—although he could've been nice, like a nice guy to be friends with. I followed Lisa upstairs. The glass panes that lined the stairway made you feel like you were in a modern museum. We swung a right at the top of the stairs. The walls were painted a cool blue. Upon them hung pictures of flowers, most in color and one in black and white. The prettiest framed work was a montage of outdoor scenes: trees, flowers blossoming, petals falling, and the sun shining through the green grasslands.