2. Adeline
Adeline
“Okay, explain it to me again,” Nat says over the phone.
I growl into the phone. Literally stomping the concrete pavement. A tourist glances back, eyes wide, differentiating themselves from all the city natives who don’t have time for temper tantrums during rush hour.
“She said my skirt was too short.”
“Was it?”
“Nat!”
The audio warbles, and something slams, probably Nat’s front door. I’ve only been trying to call her all afternoon. She finally called back with nothing but an ‘I was at work.’ I could sense the eye roll that went with it.
“Why are you even doing an internship?” Nat asks. “You’ve been at school for what, two weeks? It’s your first semester.”
“It’s a really good internship,” I defend, affronted that she of all people isn’t understanding. “It’ll look amazing on my resume.”
When I graduate in four years with a double major in business and marketing, I’m not going to be one of the hordes of students hitting the ground running.
I’ll have already secured a good job, something that makes money.
I’ll have an office. People will come to me for help.
The Akatovs value a good work ethic, and I’m going to be the boss one day.
Dad knew of a marketing firm that always takes on students for internships. I jumped at the chance, knowing the earlier you start networking, the better.
Nat snorts on the other end of the line. “I can’t believe people think I’m the Type A daughter.”
“Because you are.” I frown at Jack, the guard that somehow still got assigned to me at NYU. He’s basically brushing my elbow, he’s walking so close to me. I don’t like it. I speed up, throwing him a look to back off as Nat chats in my ear.
“It’s your first semester at NYU! You should be getting to know the ropes of things. Meet people, make friends. You do not need to plan out your life five or ten years in advance, Ads.”
I’m still frowning. “I called you to help me feel better. Not to listen to a lecture.”
“Which you won’t listen to anyway.”
I huff under my breath.
My internship only takes up two afternoons during the week. Today was the second time I went. I got there early. Greeted everyone respectfully. Listened to my supervisor, who asked me to organize supplies. Boring, but fine, I’ll pay my dues.
Then this lady from HR came in and asked to speak to me.
My cheeks had never been so red like they were when she declared that I was dressed inappropriately.
I picked out the pencil skirt, button-down, and high heels with meticulous care the night before.
“I would think you’d be glad your younger sister is taking her future career so seriously,” I tell Nat.
She works in finance and had a job right out of university too. She lives by her planner and watches black and white movies for fun. We should be bonding over our mutual sophistication instead of whatever elderly sister chiding this is.
“Well, apparently not serious enough if you’re showing up in inappropriate clothes.”
My skin heats, the zing of Nat’s barb hitting me harder than usual. I shuffle along with the swell of people getting off work. Usually I’m buoyed by the chaos in the city, but this afternoon I’m wilting around the edges.
I’m never like this. I’m not Lennie, a wallflower afraid to stir shit up. I’m not the chill Natalie with her book club reads and long-term relationship. I need excitement. Most people get overwhelmed, but I’m the type that likes to stay moving.
Mama said the same thing as Nat. That I should ease into school and wait for internships. I told her I could handle it.
And I will. I’m self-aware enough to know everything is still new. It’s just a couple of weeks into school. Everyone in the dorm is still learning to get along with each other. I’m easing into my routine.
“I’m sending you a photo,” I say after a prolonged silence. One in which I hope Nat realizes she went too far with her comment.
I took a selfie before I left the dorm. I plan on it exonerating me from Nat and the HR lady’s tirade against pencil skirts.
“Okay,” Nat says after a moment, and my chin picks up. “So maybe she was being a bit of a dick.”
I don’t feel as vindicated as I normally do.
“Look, kid,” Nat starts. “You’re going to meet some crazy people in the corporate world. Jealous, petty people who have little emotional intelligence. Wear some slacks next week and don’t let this become a thing. Don’t let them see a reaction.”
Mom drilled us with the concept of ‘let things roll off your back,’ so I know where she’s coming from.
“How are the roommates?” Nat asks. She swung by on move-in day and waved at Trish and Rina. “I hated my roommate. Raging bitch.”
I remember copious texts when Nat first went away to university.
I shake hair out of my face. “Luckily, it’s not like that?”
“Really?” Nat asks. “Because I thought it’d be worse, sharing with two roommates.”
My skin heats. It’s not ideal.
Okay, it’s downright awful.
I wanted to live in the dorm. Mama suggested I live in an apartment, but only because she’s paranoid about our security. It’s easier to control me in an apartment rather than a dorm.
I fought so hard for my freedom, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever admit that last night Rina sat naked on her bed and plucked every single one of her pubic hairs off.
Maybe she has trichotillomania.
Maybe Rina must pluck the hairs out. Either way, I learned that I’m not allowed to say something about my roommate's pussy being out because when I mentioned it to Trish I was told I needed to chill and not be so offended.
“You know roommates are hit or miss,” Nat warns. “There’s still plenty of time to get annoyed by them.”
“I’m not going to get annoyed, it’s fine,” I lie.
“There are plenty of people in Brittany Hall and your classes. You’ll find friends.”
“I have friends.”
“Okay.” Is that a hint of placating in Nat’s voice, like she doesn’t believe me? “I can’t believe I’m telling you of all people, but like, please go out and have some fun this weekend.”
“Why me of all people?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re the sister who likes to slip away to parties and strip clubs, and my God, if you try to fly off in some millionaire’s private jet again. . .”
“Didn’t you just tell me to go have some fun?”
“What can I say? I’ve always known you were a perfectionist deep down, but this robotic I’m going to rule the world with one NYU degree at a time thing is really freaking me out. Breathe a little, Ads.”
I go past the security gates when I get to my building. Someone is picking up a package, and the idea of ordering something online floats through my mind. I deserve a little treat in the mail.
I pause in the lobby, telling myself I’m not getting in the elevators because I don’t want Nat’s call to drop.
“I am breathing,” I assure her. “I just needed to tell someone about that bitch of an HR lady.”
Not that she believed me at first.
Nat lets out a sigh. She’s probably sunk onto her velvet couch in the living room of her Brooklyn brownstone. She’ll uncork a bottle of wine and eat grilled chicken for dinner, like the adult that she is. “How are classes?”
“Good.”
“Do you have any plans this weekend?”
“There’s the party Mom and Dad are throwing,” I remind her.
“Party? Wait, no, that’s a work thing.”
“It’s important.” Mom’s been working on this event for months. “And you know the Akatovs are better united.”
“Ads, it’s a fucking meet and greet between high-level power players.” Her words are kept ambiguous, but we both understand.
The party is supposed to be a simple, classy affair.
Where some of the biggest players in the various criminal syndicates in this city will drink wine and smoke cigars.
They will come up with better deals since the atmosphere will be decidedly friendlier than if these conversations were happening anywhere else.
“Lennie will be there.”
“Lennie has no life!”
It’s oddly rude of Nat. We typically don’t comment directly on Lennie’s lack of a social life.
“I want to go back.” I step closer to the wall as a few people use the elevators. “I know this is important to both Mom and Dad, and I have my dress picked out.”
My boobs have never looked so good as when I tried on the black velvet dress. I’ve got the perfect pair of silver strappy heels to go along with it.
“Mom and Dad are not going to care if you skip out. They’re the ones who dropped you off, for God’s sake. Go out and make some friends, Adeline!”
I’d be more inclined if I didn’t feel like her suggestion is more of an accusation.
“I do have friends.”
“None that go to NYU with you.”
It shouldn’t be a problem going to see my parents over the weekend. I’m lucky it’s not a long journey, and one of the guards will drive me back.
I press the elevator button. “I’ve got to go study now.”
“Ads—”
I hang up before she can say anything else. Trish is on her bed, reading manga. Rina comes out from the shared bathroom in just a towel, long red curls sticking to her skin.
I plaster on a smile. “Would you guys be interested in a movie night?”
We could crowd around a laptop and eat snacks.
“No thanks,” Trish says, not looking up.
Rina at least appears more sincere. “Sorry, I’m meeting my boyfriend.”
I try not to think about how I know for a fact that her pussy is groomed for any encounters she may have.
“Maybe someday next week,” I mumble. She smiles, drying off her hair, but the idea fades away, knowing it was never meant to be in the first place.