Stories from New York #3 (3 page)

I nodded, though I still didn’t really understand. New York City was complicated.

We crossed a busy intersection when the walk sign flashed. “Watch out for the bike messengers,” Ivy cautioned. “Sometimes they don’t stop.”

“Oh look!” Tally said, pointing excitedly.

“Tal, get across the street first, then gawk,” Miko said sternly.

“But look at the lions!” Tally cried.

A huge, beautiful building that took up the entire block was on our left. A large staircase led up to the front doors, and it was flanked by massive stone lions.

“That’s the main branch of the New York Public Library,” Ivy explained. “And all the space behind it is Bryant Park. Our hotel is right at the end of this block.”

“So we’ll be near the Fashion District, right?” Miko asked. “This is amazing. I feel like I’m dreaming!”

“Me too,” Tally agreed, trotting to keep up. Mrs. Scanlon was walking really fast. We followed her the length of the block to the next intersection, where Ivy pointed at a sign that said 6
AVENUE
.

“If for some reason you ever get lost, just get yourself to Forty-Second and Sixth. That building with the red awning is our hotel,” Mrs. Scanlon told us.

I could not imagine being able to find my way to the hotel if I got lost. The city seemed to stretch
on forever in every direction. Each building seemed taller than the last, and every sidewalk more crammed with people.

Miko nudged me as we crossed the street. “Can you believe how casually she said that? ‘If for some reason you get lost.’ I would flip out!”

“Seriously,” I agreed.

“This is it, everyone!” Mrs. Scanlon said, gesturing toward the building with the red awning. A white-haired man with bright blue eyes held the door open for us. His uniform made him look very elegant, and his name tag said “Mel.”

“Hi, Mel. I’m Tally!” Tally announced as we walked through the door. “This is my first time in New York City!”

Mel smiled and tipped his hat. “Welcome to Manhattan, Tally,” he said.

“Everybody with me?” Mrs. Scanlon said as we gathered in the lobby. “I’m just going to check us in and get our key. Ivy, have everyone wait together by the elevators, okay?”

The lobby was small but elegant. The walls were covered with black-and-white photographs of movie stars and other famous people. One end of the room had a long, shiny desk, and the other side had sleek red chairs and couches. The floors were a gleaming reddish marble and from the ceiling hung a crystal chandelier.

“Oh, it’s like a little palace!” Tally exclaimed.

“Hey, look at that picture!” Miko exclaimed, pointing to a framed photo of an elegant, dark-haired woman wearing strings of pearls. “That’s Coco Chanel. She was, like, the most famous designer in the world. Do you think that her picture hanging here means she might have stayed here once?”

“Oh, you should ask!” Tally said, admiring the picture. “Isn’t she gorgeous? Maybe someone here even met her.”

But before we could ask, Mrs. Scanlon was back. “Here we go,” she said. “Suite 501. Let’s get settled in quickly because we’re going to have to head right back out again. Tally, the hotel is going to send up a courtesy bag for you with things like a toothbrush and a comb. I’m afraid they can’t help you with clothes, though. You’ll have to borrow from whomever is closest to your size. Miko, maybe?”

Tally nodded agreeably, but I noticed Miko looked less than thrilled.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here,” I whispered to Ivy as we got into the elevator. “Your mom seems so calm.”

“You should see her at the office,” Ivy said. “It can get kind of crazy there, and the more it does, the calmer she gets. I wish I could learn to do that.”

“Oh please. You’re the calmest person I know,” I told her.

To my left, Tally was singing “New York, New York,” and Miko was trying to get her to stop.

“Yeah, not such a huge accomplishment to look like the calmest person in this group,” Ivy said good-naturedly as our elevator reached the fifth floor with a
ping
.

“We’re here!” Tally squealed.

“Tally, you cannot do this when we get to
City Nation
,” Miko said as we followed Mrs. Scanlon out of the elevator. “You have to be quiet in an office.” She gave me and Ivy a look that seemed to say, “Can Tally possibly be quiet
anywhere
?”

Suite 501 was right next to the elevator. Mrs. Scanlon slid the key through the slot and opened the door.

Tally burst into the room ahead of us, since she was the only one not weighed down by a suitcase. There was a very small central room with a television, couch, and a tiny kitchen area with a minifridge and microwave beneath two small windows.

“There are three bedrooms in the suite with two double beds each,” Mrs. Scanlon told us. “You’ll share two rooms between you, and I’ll take the third.”

“Want to share with me, Paulie?” Ivy asked me quickly.

“Yes!” I exclaimed. Then I saw Miko make a little face. She was superneat, and Tally was notoriously messy. But Tally threw her arms around Miko and squealed, “Roomie!” and Miko smiled.

“But seriously, you have to stop squealing,” Miko said while hugging Tally back.

“Take fifteen minutes to put your things away and freshen up, but then we should really get going,” Ivy’s mom said, already texting someone on her phone in one hand and pulling her suitcase into her room with the other.

“Your mom can totally multitask,” Miko said, looking impressed.

Ivy nodded. “We really better get moving if she wants us ready in fifteen minutes,” she said.

Tally shot into the door closest to us, then shot out again.

“Oops! Bathroom!” she cried, darting into the next room. “Dibs on this one!” she yelled.

Miko made a face at me. “Do I really have to share with Tally?” she murmured. “She’ll turn the place into a wreck.”

“No, she won’t,” I told Miko cheerfully. “She forgot her suitcase, remember? What can she make a mess with?”

“She’ll find a way,” Miko mumbled, pulling her enormous suitcase into the room.

“Guess that room is ours then,” Ivy said, and I followed her inside.

Our room was tiny but beautiful. Everything was supermodern, from the gleaming metal lamps to the sleek armchairs and the elegant little desk.

“We should just hang up the stuff that might get wrinkled,” Ivy said. “And I need to fix my hair.”

“I’m going to change into my black pants,” I said, unzipping my suitcase and pulling the pants out.

“Oh, should I change, too? I don’t think I like what I have on. And I should have brought my straightening iron. This piece by my ear keeps sticking out. I look ridiculous!”

I looked at Ivy, surprised. She rarely worried about her appearance. She had great taste in clothes and her sleek cranberry bob was always perfectly styled, never a hair out of place.

“Ivy, you look amazing, as usual,” I reassured her. “You’re the only one that’s lived here and actually been to
City Nation
. You aren’t nervous about being back, are you?”

Ivy was staring at her unopened suitcase. She suddenly seemed to hear my question and looked at me. “Why? Am I acting funny? And don’t give me the nice answer. Give me the best friend answer.”

“You’re not acting funny at all,” I said. “And you DO look amazing. But I am your best friend so…you
just seem like something might be bugging you.”

Ivy sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re right,” she said. “Here’s the thing. There’s this girl we’re probably going to see. Her name’s Dakota. Her dad works at
City Nation,
too—he’s the head of business operations. I’ve known her, like, forever, basically. And my mom told me that she’s an intern this year, meaning she works there after school and during vacations.”

“Oh,” I said. “So we’ll definitely see her. That’s okay, right? It always helps to have a friend around.”

But Ivy shook her head. “I said I’ve known her forever, but I wouldn’t exactly call us friends. Ever since kindergarten, we’ve been ending up in the same stuff—karate class, skating camp, gymnastics. Dakota is insanely competitive, and everything was a race with her. Who got their black belt first, who could skate backward better, who could do the best vault. I know it sounds stupid, but it used to really upset me. Like there was nothing I couldn’t do that she wasn’t right there trying to do better. We both used to talk about interning at
City Nation
when we were old enough. But then we ended up moving, and now Dakota’s an intern. And I never got to be one. I’m afraid she is going to gloat or something. Not that it really matters. I just kind of dread seeing her.”

I sat next to Ivy and put my arm around her. “I’d
feel the same way,” I said. “It’s only for a few days, though, and you’ve got your
own
magazine to boast about! Maybe she’ll be really intimidated by you now.”

“And maybe she won’t be,” Ivy said. “But you’re right. It’s only a few days, and besides, we have totally different lives now.” She jumped up and checked her reflection in the mirror, smoothing her hair and turning slightly to the side. “You really think I should wear this?” she asked.

I pulled on my black pants and stood next to Ivy in the mirror. “I do. Really,” I told her.

A smile spread across Ivy’s face as she turned to face me. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

The offices of
City Nation
were about six blocks from our hotel, in a part of New York Mrs. Scanlon kept calling Midtown. We walked down Sixth Avenue to get there, trying to stay together as a group while also avoiding bumping into the crowds of people, many of them carrying shopping bags, texting, or stopping to take pictures.

When we reached one street corner, Tally let out a huge scream. “Y’all! It’s the Empire State Building!” she shouted, pointing up into the sky.

“The one and only,” Mrs. Scanlon said, pausing to take a head count. “We should have some time later
in the week to see some of the city. We can go up to the top of the Empire State Building if you’d like. But for now, here it is, guys.
City Nation
.”

I stared up at the narrow, seemingly all-glass building. There was no sign outside, nothing to indicate what was inside. “I always imagined there’d be a huge sign over the door,” I said to Ivy as we walked into the lobby.

“
City Nation
is big, but not that big,” Ivy explained. “This is a forty-story building. The magazine has maybe three floors, but the rest are other companies. You have to sign in and get a pass to go anywhere.”

Mrs. Scanlon was already talking to a woman at the security desk in front of the bank of elevators. We each had to be photographed and were given a badge with our name and picture to wear.

“Oh, one of my eyes is closed,” Tally complained, examining her picture. “Will they let me have a do-over? It doesn’t look like me.”

“Tally, you’re right here,” Miko said. “It doesn’t matter if the picture looks like you or not because it’s stuck to the real you.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” Tally admitted.

Miko noticed me looking at her and rolled her eyes, but at the same time she reached up and tucked the tag of Tally’s jacket back inside her coat at the neck, then smoothed her scarf down.

It was funny. The more Miko complained about Tally, the more it became obvious to me that she was getting to really like her. When school had started in September, Miko, Tally, and I didn’t know each other all that well, and Ivy had been the new girl at school. We’d been thrown into working together on
4 Girls
and had found a way to keep it friendly during the school-wide competition to determine who would win a year of funding for their project. But after we won the competition and got to keep publishing
4 Girls
together, we really became friends.

The elevator took us to the thirty-second floor, where we went through big glass doors to yet another lobby. This one did have a sign—a massive black rectangle with huge white letters saying C
ITY
N
ATION
. The young woman sitting behind the desk looked like a movie star—she had glossy, long hair that hung old-Hollywood style over one eye and bright red lipstick perfectly applied. She was dressed all in black, sitting up completely straight behind the desk. I got the feeling nobody got past her unannounced.

Mrs. Scanlon said something I couldn’t hear, and the receptionist dialed the phone and said something even more quietly. That’s when I noticed that the whole lobby felt as hushed as a library. I felt loud just standing there breathing.

But the silence was interrupted by the
clackety-clack
of someone walking in high heels. The woman walking down the hallway seemed to project a force field of severity around her. She had jet-black hair that was cut bluntly near her jawline, one side hanging lower than the other, and a single stripe of silver hair. She was dressed entirely in light purple, from her elegantly tailored jacket to her lethal-looking stilettos. She wore a tiny telephone headset and was talking into it as she walked. It looked like she was talking to herself.

“Get it done,” I heard her say. Then she reached up and touched a button on the headset as she reached the lobby.