|New York, I Love You
Author: KSCJ-QOYA PM
After graduating from New York University, Kat and Karmin are starting to settle into their new lives. Kat is partying it up, a different club and man every night. Karmin is more serious about her future, and is determined to make a living for herself. When new men and unexpected surprises arise, Kat and Karmin are going to have to make some changes to survive in this crazy city.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Words: 1,803 - Published: 01-11-13 - id: 3091324
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I had grown up in a miniscule town in Connecticut, named Union. I lived with my mom and dad as an only child. My parents spoiled me rotten, but not as nearly as much as my friend Kat's parents. Kati-Faith Tyler is my best friend; we've known each other all our lives. We had spent hours playing together at her parent's mansion, while they were both on business trips. Truthfully, Kat's parents kind of sucked. I'm pretty sure I had seen them as often as she did while we were growing up. Of course, she got a pony for every missed birthday, and an unlimited shopping spree for every Christmas they weren't there. While Kat had always claimed she was fine, I had seen the disappointed look on her face every year they didn't show up. While I would never say it out loud, I think her parents' absence had affected Kat. When we were kids, she would always do crazy stunts to try to get their attention. When we were 13, Kat broke into the school in the middle of the night and spray painted a big red F on her least favorite teacher's door. The very next day, the issue was dropped, the principal had a brand new Ferrari, and all Kat had gotten was a disappointed look from her father and a few sessions with the family counselor. Yes, the Tyler family was so screwed up they had a family therapist. I had a lot of crazy times with Kat, and plenty memorable moments. In fact, I remember one time, when Kat…
My inner dialogue was interrupted with a loud shriek. Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear.
"What?" I yelled back, annoyed. She probably just wanted my opinion on her hair. I swear Kat would die without at least one compliment a day. She is literally obsessed with herself.
As I had predicted, Kat barged into my room and immediately asked, "Does my hair look ok?"
"Yes, Kat, it looks fine." I sighed. "It always looks fine. You have never, in your life, had a bad hair day."
She ignored me. "Really? Are you sure? I don't know that I like the curls, straight is sexier."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I'm sure."
"Ok, thanks Kar." She smiled brightly. "Now start getting ready!" She scolded, turning serious. "We are leaving in exactly 20 minutes, even if I have to drag you out bra and panties."
"K. Fine. Now get out already." She grinned and skipped out, in typical Kat fashion. I think she is bipolar. Honestly. She goes from serious to skipping in like .3 seconds flat.
I closed the old scrapbook I had been looking at and set it on my desk.
I started getting changed into something a little more clubbish. Yes, we were going to a club. I have no idea why. Speaking of…
"KAT" I yelled.
"WHY ARE WE GOING TO A CLUB ANYWAY? IT'S THURSDAY AND I HAVE WORK TOMORROW!"
As I slid a dress on, she once again came in without knocking. Completely shameless, Kat was standing in my doorway in her underwear, struggling with putting on a necklace. "I hate these things." She mumbled. I, as always, fastened it for her. After going to so many parties together, we had fallen into a pattern. It always went the same way. Kat would do hair and makeup, I would get distracted, she would come and yell at me and tell me to get ready, I would get dressed, she would get dressed, she would insist on making me look pretty, and we would go, me complaining all the way.
"And FYI, we're going out tonight because I have a hot date and you are my wing woman."
I raised an eyebrow, and she continued. "Ok, so I may have promised him that I would find a date for his friend, but we're doubling! So it's going to be fun! Right? Right?" At my skeptical look, she turned desperate. "Oh, please Kar! Please, please, please! I really like this guy; I think he may be the one!"
Another thing about Kat: she was a hopeless romantic. Of course, her longest romance had been 6 months, and we were 12. But she always found a guy, convinced herself he was the one, that he was special, slept with him, and then decided she was over him. Sometimes if the guy was lucky they would go on a few dates before she got bored and dumped him.
"Fine." I agreed, reluctantly. Who knows, the guy might be cute.
"So, about this guy," I grinned slyly. "Who is he?"
Her triumphant expression shattered. "He…um…he's that cute brunette I met a week ago! The one who wrote his number on a napkin for me? He works at the bar we were at," -the bar she got drunk and threw up at- "and Thursday is his only night off!"
"Ok, well that sounds fun." I agreed. "So what's his name?" My grin widened, and she flushed deeply.
"Um…uh…it's…I know his name…um…of course I know it…I just can't think…of…um…it's…it…it starts with a T….I think…" I laughed as her sentence dissolved into mumbles, as her already buzzed mind tried to remember the poor guy's name. "I think it starts with a T…"
When we finally arrived at the club, Kat threw some money at the Cabbie and hurried out, nearly jogging towards the door in her eagerness. She was either really excited to see the guy or she was really excited to get a drink. Knowing her, I was pretty sure it was the latter.
I followed her in at a quick jog, not wanting to get left behind.
"Hey!" She cried, throwing her hands around an admittedly cute brunette guy in a dark gray t-shirt and kissing him hard on the mouth. That was Kat's typical greeting. Once, when she was drunk, she had tried to greet me that way, but I had side-stepped just in time. I know her patterns, and was able to evade her until she was sober again.
I walked up to them, and waited for them to come up for air. When it seemed that I would be waiting a while, I coughed quietly, trying to get their attention. It didn't work. I subtly cleared my throat. I tapped Kat's shoulder. Finally, I yelled "Hey!" They broke apart, the guy with a wide, dorky smile spread upon his face.
"Hi." He said, sticking out his hand. "Riley. You must be Karmin."
I smirked at Kat as she tried to hide her blush. "T?" I asked. The guy looked confused as she mumbled some most likely not nice things to me. She then brought his face back to hers and their continued their previous activities.
Not wanting to be a third wheel, I wandered away, going to the bar to get a drink. "Sex on a beach." I ordered, smiling. When Kat and I were 19, we snuck into a bar and used our fake I.D.'s to order two Sex-on-a-Beach's. She had convinced me we wouldn't actually drink them, but the I.D.'s hadn't worked anyway and we had gotten kicked out.
"Hi, sorry to bother you, but are you Karmin? I'm Max, Riley's friend."
I turned to him and smiled, trying to seem friendly but not interested. Because truthfully, I wasn't.
It had been nearly a month since I had broken up with my previous boyfriend, Ben, after I found him cheating on me. When it comes to dating, I have horrible luck. I had been cheated on three times, the guy had dumped me over a text/Facebook 5 times, and once he had even turned out to be gay. That was awkward.
I hadn't really liked Ben that much, but it had still sort of hurt to be betrayed like that. I hadn't dated anyone since.
"So, I would offer to buy you a drink, but I can see you already have one." He smiled hesitantly, a question in his eyes. Do you want to be here, or were you dragged along too?
I laughed. "Yeah. But pull up a chair. You can tell me about your friend, and I can decide if he's good enough for mine."
He grinned and sat down, and we both started talking about how our friends had both dragged us into this. We shot glances at the couple, and they were almost always:
Drinking and making out (don't ask)
We also discussed how crazy our friends were, deciding based on the other's stories that they would make a good couple. Max was nice, but that was it.
When Kat's shirt came off, I rolled my eyes and excused myself, quickly scribbling my number down for him.
"Come on." I said when I got over to her, grabbing her shirt and forcing it back on. A crowd of (mostly male) onlookers groaned and booed as I put an arm around her and helped her out of the club, much to her (and their) complaint.
"Whyd I half ta goooo?" Her voice was slurred in her drunkenness. "I wazz halfin funnnnn!" She pulled herself out from under my arm, and tried to duck back into the club.
"Oh no you don't." I grabbed her arm, and she groaned.
"Buh I feel fin…" She then bent over and started throwing up.
I scrunched up my noise at the unpleasant (but familiar) smell, and held her hair back for her.
"I donn neeed yer hep, Karrr."
"Yes you do." I tried to support her weight the best I could, and she was extremely skinny, but I still didn't have the strength to lift her over to the side of the street so I could hail a taxi.
After unsuccessfully trying to drag her, I finally asked a random stranger to help me and hailed a taxi for Kat and I. I thanked him, but Kat wouldn't get into the car.
"I donn wanna go 'ome. I wanna stay hereeee…wih him." She winked at the guy, and he grinned.
"Come on, Kati. Get in the car." I tried to make my voice stern, but she didn't listen.
"She can stay…" The guy suggested. I glared at him and he quickly shrunk back.
I tried a few more times to convince her to leave with me, but each time she refused.
"Fine!" I finally exploded, turning my back on the other two and climbing into the taxi. "I'm going home. Bye Kat."
She waved at me, and then giggled at the guy, who nervously chuckled back. I told the driver our address and sighed. I knew she would make it back ok, she always does. But I still worry.