Chapter 11
Six Years Ago
T HE SUMMER AFTER GRAD UATION should have been heartbreaking. Most friends scatter, rudely dropped into adulthood while clinging to memories of hazy college bliss.
But that wasn’t the case for Chloe. Somehow, miraculously, she managed to convince everyone to stay together.
Luke had a job on Wall Street. And Marianne got a job at Teach for America in the Bronx. Even though Chloe’s brother tried to convince her to come back to California, she wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to glom on to his life, weekends spent discussing grocery runs and toddler birthdays. She also wasn’t ready for the constant tidal wave of grief that seemed to consume her whenever she went back to her parents’ home.
It was easy for Chloe to get a job at a gallery. Then Sloane got hired at an interior design firm on the Upper East Side, and Alden was coding something, which he could do from anywhere. When Wyatt got an offer as an editorial assistant at a publishing house, it felt like all the pieces fell into place.
“So we’re going to do it? We’re all moving to New York? Together?” Chloe had squealed that spring, bouncing up and down. Wyatt didn’t really want to take the job, he told them. He wanted to write. But helping other writers seemed good enough. For a year at least. So in response to Chloe’s gleeful dance, they all wrapped her in a hug and made plans for the big move to NYC.
Finding an apartment that they could afford and could fit six people was next to impossible. But by May, they’d found something doable in Murray Hill. They put up temporary walls creating rooms that Sloane called prison cells. More often, they’d all gather on the couch in the living space. It was the only room with a real window that admitted outside light. Every other room either looked out onto a brick wall or was windowless. Sloane’s prison cell description wasn’t actually much of an exaggeration.
They filled the apartment with thrift store finds and questionable Craigslist purchases. Sloane insisted that they all buy new mattresses, after reading one too many articles about bedbug infestations. None of them protested this mandate because buying a used, stained mattress was a threshold none of them wanted to willingly cross.
There was no design sense to the apartment, Sloane’s constant complaint. It was functional and, for Chloe, full of comfort. The knitted blanket Marianne brought from home that they all fought over for movie night. The piles of Wyatt’s books that they turned into makeshift side tables. The cabinet full of mugs with corporate logos that Luke seemed to have in endless supply. And the antique trunk that Sloane found at the flea market to store the ridiculous number of cords and cables that Alden said were absolute requirements. Maybe the comfort of the apartment had more to do with the fact that it was filled with people Chloe loved rather than any material thing.
By late August, they had a rhythm to their days. Alden slept in, after staying up most of the night coding, which meant there was one fewer body to fight over bathroom counter space. Marianne was up, dressed, and gone before most of them were awake. Chloe and Luke never complained about sharing the shower. And then it was a flurry of toasted bagels and cups of yogurt eaten on the way to the subway before Luke and Wyatt headed downtown and Chloe and Sloane headed uptown. They’d trickle home at different times, each person making sure Alden actually stood up and moved his body away from his computer at regular intervals and helped Marianne remove gum from whatever surface it attached to that day—her hair once, but more usually a shoe or, oddly, a book wedged in her giant bag.
They started carving out their own identities that year, Marianne grabbing drinks after work with the other teachers, Chloe and Sloane spending their weekends at MoMA stalking the latest exhibits, Wyatt parking himself at a coffeehouse so that he could focus on writing instead of the blue light from Alden’s computer screen. And Luke, with a constant rotation of work events and late nights, so that he was difficult to pin down. But they still stuck to their Sunday dinner tradition. And they still stayed up too late, catching up on the couch, a quick conversation turning into hours of laughter. The crowded, messy, joyful apartment became the security blanket they all needed for their first year of adulthood.
So it wasn’t surprising, one October evening, that Luke convinced everyone to attend a happy hour with the other junior analysts at Brother Jimmy’s. The drinks were cheap, and Brother Jimmy’s was close enough to their apartment that they couldn’t claim it was too much of a trek to join, despite everyone’s silent eye rolls at Luke’s new friends. It was hard for any of them to accept someone new. They were still each other’s favorite people.
Happy hour for the investment banking crew was later than most, so the girls met at the apartment and got ready together. Chloe and Marianne watched as Sloane tried on almost every dress in her tiny chest of drawers because this was going to be the night that she finally met the man of her dreams. Or so she claimed.
Sloane had a timeline, and she was running a few months behind. This year was her year to get experience working with the best interior designer and to meet the man she was going to marry. Next year, she would be engaged, move back to Atlanta, and set up her own design business, or so she claimed. Sloane’s tenacity seemed to make even the most ambitious ideas seem achievable.
“I like the white one,” Marianne said as she curled up on Sloane’s twin bed. Marianne had the top bunk, a sleeping arrangement she agreed to on the condition that when Noah came to visit, Chloe and Luke would give up their bedroom for the weekend. Everyone paid the same rent, so they were willing to switch things around.
“I can’t wear white in that bar. It’s so dirty. It will stain,” Sloane said.
“It’s not that dirty,” Chloe said. “It’s just dark. And crowded.”
“Have you seen it in the daylight?”
“God, no,” Chloe quickly replied. “Who would go to Brother Jimmy’s in the daytime?”
Sloane threw off the white dress and reached for a black slip dress. “Alden said he missed barbecue. I went to lunch with him last month.”
Marianne sat up. “You ate the food there?”
“Reluctantly,” Sloane said as she pulled on the dress. “It wasn’t too bad. Plus, Alden seemed homesick.”
“Or maybe he was pretending to miss home so that he could get some alone time with you,” Marianne said, a teasing lilt in her voice.
Alden’s crush on Sloane was a well-known secret. Alden had a starstruck quality whenever he was around Sloane, but he never asked her on a date or made any outward declarations of affection. Chloe occasionally caught Sloane staring at Alden or defending his brilliance to anyone who attempted criticism. Chloe wondered if Alden wanted Sloane, could he make a move and have her? But they were caught in this weird back and forth, both of them afraid to upset the balance. Chloe wasn’t sure what it would take to get both of them to finally admit their feelings. But until then, Sloane seemed content to look elsewhere, and Alden consumed himself with building a mobile app.
“Alden and I are alone all the time,” Sloane said, waving her hand. “Stop acting like a fifth grader, Marianne. Not everyone has a crush. Some people are just friends.”
Chloe and Marianne’s eyes met, not believing a word Sloane said.
“I like the black,” Chloe said as Sloane turned in the mirror. With her strawberry blonde hair cut into a chin-length bob and her fair skin, Sloane could pull off almost any color. The October air was cool, but the packed bar would be stuffy, so the short dress Sloane selected would be perfect.
Chloe glanced at her outfit, a pair of jeans and a tank top. She’d be more casual than Luke’s colleagues, and she thought that maybe she should change into a dress too. That’s probably what Luke would prefer. Sometimes Chloe wished she were more like Sloane because Sloane was the type of girl Luke’s colleagues expected. Polished. A bit aloof. Confident.
The few times Chloe had met Luke’s new friends, she had felt so out of place, kind of like a fish flopping on dry land. She spent most of her days running errands for the gallery director, so she had no use for fancy work clothes. And everything about living in New York was exciting. She was too impressed to ever seem cool to anyone.
But tonight she would try. Ever since he’d started this job, Luke was dazzled by his new life. He would lie in bed next to Chloe, whispering stories about his intimidating bosses and legendary trading anecdotes. He became obsessive, wanting to get the same fleece vest that everyone else in the office wore. Concerned that if he wasn’t still at his desk when his boss left for the night, he might lose some imaginary ranking among the junior analysts.
“Can I borrow a dress?” Chloe asked Sloane.
“Yes! Let’s do a makeover.” Sloane clapped her hands as she started laying dresses on the bottom bunk and instructing Marianne to pull out the case of makeup Sloane stored under her bed.
“You asked for it,” Marianne mumbled to Chloe.
Chloe did, in fact, ask for it, and she also immediately regretted the asking. Sloane heated up a flat iron and held dresses against Chloe’s chest, each of them shorter than the last. When Sloane started discussing a cat eye, Chloe realized that she was going to be spending the night playing pretend. The short dresses, the smooth hair, the presence of makeup at all, was way outside Chloe’s norm. But it was squarely in Sloane’s wheelhouse. And like the girls who hung around with Luke’s coworkers. Chloe thought, maybe for one night, she’d see what it was like to be one of them instead of Luke’s quirky girlfriend.
The primping continued, and Chloe transported herself to a place of calm as Sloane swarmed around her like one of those ambush makeovers.
“Where are you guys going?” Wyatt poked his head in their room. His bag was still slung over his shoulder. He must have just gotten home from work.
“To that party. With Luke’s work friends,” Chloe said. She tried to turn her head toward Wyatt, but Sloane immediately pushed it back in her direction, a very pointy eyeliner stick aimed at Chloe’s eye.
“Have fun,” Wyatt said.
“No,” Chloe said quickly. “You have to come.”
“I’ll pass.” Wyatt got an apple out of the fridge. Chloe could see all of this, the one advantage of a small apartment.
“Please come. Be socially awkward with me,” Chloe shouted across the room.
“I’m not socially awkward,” Wyatt shouted back.
“Fine. Be mathematically awkward with me. Those guys start talking about financial models and my eyes glaze over. The artists need to stick together.”
Wyatt walked back to Sloane’s room, standing in the doorway as he took a bite of apple. He did not seem convinced. “I haven’t seen you pick up a paintbrush once since we moved here.”
Chloe knew he was right. It’d actually been much longer since Chloe had picked up a paintbrush. Ever since her parents died, she’d had a hard time thinking about creating anything. It had been easy to make excuses during senior year—exams, parties, job applications—and easier still with the move. In an apartment this small, she would be taking up precious space storing paints and brushes in a drawer that could be used for underwear and pajamas. She’d paint again when she was ready. But in the meantime, could she still claim to be an artist? If Wyatt was assisting an editor of someone else’s book, could he still call himself a writer?
Chloe didn’t ask either of these questions. Instead, she begged. “Wyatt. Please. Luke is less finance-bro-y when you’re around. Help me out.”
“Fine,” Wyatt said, finishing off the apple and tossing it in the trash can across the room. “But only if Alden comes too.”
Alden was hunched over his computer in the corner, the makeshift office he had set up that Sloane constantly complained was an eyesore. During this entire conversation, not once had Alden looked up. He was in the zone, his fingers flying around the keyboard in a way that seemed unsustainable for more than a minute, but they all knew Alden had been there for hours and would stay hunched over like that until late in the night.
Sloane seemed satisfied with Chloe’s makeup. She went over to Alden, lifted his headphones off his head, and whispered something in his ear.
Alden looked around. “Give me two minutes.”
“Please take ten. You need to shower,” Sloane said.
Alden left the room, and Chloe narrowed her eyes at Sloane. “Be nice.”
“I am being nice. I convinced him to come so that you can have your male security blankets while you figure out how to navigate Wall Street girlfriend life.”
Chloe stared at the floor, embarrassed by the accuracy of Sloane’s statement.
Wyatt started unbuttoning his shirt, walking toward his room to change. “Are we meeting Luke there?”
“Yeah,” Chloe stammered, looking away.
With six people living together, someone was always in some state of half-dressedness, but Wyatt seemed the most comfortable stripping down with the door open. Chloe knew there was likely a roster of girls from Mayfield who would have pulled up a bucket of popcorn for the nightly show. But Chloe felt a creep of embarrassment instead. It felt disloyal to Luke to admit that she occasionally stared at Wyatt’s chest.
“Shots before?” Wyatt walked out, pulling down his clean black T-shirt.
“Oh yes,” Chloe said quickly and turned toward the kitchen.
They all filed into the kitchen space, a generous term given the mini fridge they tried to share and the stove with only two burners. Wyatt pulled out a bottle of Southern Comfort, poured five shots, and they waited until Alden came out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, and grabbed his shot.
Chloe looked at Wyatt. “You should tell Riley to meet us at the bar,” she suggested.
Wyatt shook his head. “Nah. Not her scene.”
Chloe didn’t push. Wyatt had been dating Riley for a few months but had only brought her around the group a handful of times. Chloe suspected that it was less about the bar and more about the intimidation of everyone together that wasn’t Riley’s scene. They were a hard group to break into.
“I’m going to throw on some clothes,” Alden said.
“Yes, please.” Sloane directed her attention to Chloe. “You too. I have the perfect dress.”
A few minutes later, when Chloe came out of Sloane’s room wearing a red bandage dress that clung to every inch of her body, her blonde hair smoothed, and the cat eye expertly applied, Alden and Wyatt were finishing their second shots.
“Wow,” Alden said. “Looking good, ladies.”
Chloe could feel Wyatt staring intently. “Doesn’t look like you,” he whispered as Chloe walked up to his side.
“Think Luke will like it?” Chloe asked.
Wyatt paused and then said, “Luke likes everything about you. He’d be crazy not to.”
Even though Chloe felt uncomfortable, like this was some kind of childhood dress-up game and her mother was going to tell her to wash her face, she also felt confident. Wyatt’s words had that power.
When they got to the bar, Chloe found Luke surrounded by his coworkers. For once, she didn’t feel like an embarrassment. Especially not when Luke whistled as she approached.
“Babe, I have no idea where you got that dress, but I cannot wait to take it off you.” Luke said this loudly, so that all of his work friends could hear. Chloe blushed at the cheers and whoops that followed.
“It’s Sloane’s,” Chloe whispered, kissing the stubble on Luke’s cheek as he pulled her tightly against his chest, her feet lifting off the ground momentarily.
The red dress seemed too obvious to Chloe. In college, Luke would catch her painting in an oversized T-shirt and her underwear and tell her that’s when she was the sexiest. Maybe it was because the T-shirt was so easy to remove, discarded in a corner along with Chloe’s painting. The red dress would likely take as much effort to get off as it had to get on, zipped and pulled and cinched to hold her body into an artificially tight mold. But if Luke liked it, then it was worth it.
Everyone else came over to say hi. After introductions and a few minutes of small talk, Chloe watched as the groups fractured. One of Luke’s coworkers tried to hit on Sloane, asking if he could see how many more dresses she had like the one Chloe was wearing. “Absolutely not” was Sloane’s response and she walked away toward the bar. This was when Sloane’s southern roots truly showed themselves. She expected more manners than boys in New York bars were capable of displaying.
Marianne followed Sloane to the bar. Alden and Wyatt tried to stick it out, but when Luke’s coworkers started talking about changes to the management model for a potential M&A deal, Alden and Wyatt slunk away too. They tolerated Luke’s coworkers because they loved Luke. But given the opportunity, they found ways to avoid extended conversations.
Chloe didn’t have that luxury. She spent the rest of the evening laughing at jokes she didn’t understand but watching Luke’s grin grow bigger and bigger until there wasn’t any space left between his dimples and his lips.
But Chloe kept looking across the room at Wyatt leaning against the wall, his encouraging smiles making her feel safer than Luke’s strong hand on the small of her back. And when Luke finally told his work friends that he needed to go, that he needed to find his roommates, Chloe felt like she could finally breathe for the first time that night.
Chloe and Luke and Sloane and Marianne and Wyatt and Alden walked home together. They stopped to get giant pizza slices, passing bites of bubbly cheese and crispy pepperoni back and forth. Laughing about the guy who tried to hit on Sloane and the girl who turned Alden down. They were all exhausted when they got back to the apartment, but they stayed up, recapping their week, forming clusters on the couch, Chloe sitting on Luke’s lap.
Being together was Chloe’s favorite part of the night. But when Luke asked later, when they were lying in bed, her leg hooked over his hip, she said it was when Luke won the bet among his coworkers. Luke said, “Mine too,” and Chloe knew she’d told the right lie.
They only lived together in that apartment for a year. Marianne and Noah would be engaged by that spring, and Marianne moved back home to Virginia where she and Noah got jobs teaching at their old high school. After Marianne moved out, Wyatt got a job offer in DC. Alden’s coding project got funding and he moved to Atlanta. And even though her plans hadn’t lined up exactly as predicted (no boyfriend), Sloane moved back to Atlanta too to set up her own design firm after landing a major remodel for a professional baseball player who lived in Buckhead. Luke and Chloe stayed in the apartment, taking down the temporary walls and turning it into their first home together. After his first bonus, Luke made enough money to cover the rent everyone else had paid.
Alone in the apartment, Chloe and Luke had space to spread out. She even talked about setting up an art studio in the extra bedroom, but they agreed that an office for Luke made more sense. Besides, Chloe still wasn’t painting, and if she wanted to, she could always rent studio space close the gallery.
Luke worked long hours, and Chloe was often in the apartment by herself. That’s when she missed her friends the most. She missed their bodies crammed onto the couch, their fights over fridge space. Because when they were living together, Chloe never once felt alone. That first year after graduating from college, Chloe would remember how, even though her family had been stripped away, it was rebuilt again by the love of her best friends.