I couldn’t help the smug smirk on my face. How a good ole boy from Central Pennsylvania ended up in this sea of vapidness was as big a mystery to me as it was to him. One minute I’d been sitting on top of the water tower, looking out at the fields in front of me, and the next, I’d been in the back of a shiny black town car, on my way to New York City.
I was making the most of it. Free education, lazy and willing women, a few good drinks here and there, and ... I guess there wasn’t much else to write home about.
Three days later, I rode in the back of another town car—of course, it was provided for me—down to my summer class.
Johnny,my driver, pulled up in front of the building housing my first class for the day, and I swung my Adidas-clad feet out into the bright sunshine. The buildings weren’t as tall in the Village, allowing some sunlight to sneak inside the shady city. It made living here somewhat tolerable.
Standing tall outside the car and hoisting my backpack over my shoulder, I allowed myself a moment to think of home. It was early summer—the sun would be burning hot, the crops tall, the trees lush and green. The dogs would have the opposite of spring fever, lazing in the shade around the pond in the heat of the day, and Moira and I would get lost in each other at night in the bed of my pickup truck, underneath the stars, kissing and touching and fucking.
Moira.I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. As I heard Johnny pull away from the curb, I felt every pedestrian stride by in a New York hurry.
Moira didn’t want to come with me. She was a small-town girl, not even equipped for Hershey, the closest city to our small town in Pennsylvania, let alone Manhattan. I didn’t blame her for not picking up and leaving all she’d ever known for me. Even though we’d promised forever to each other.
All the same, I tried not to think about her pushing me to leave, insisting I experience everything life had to offer, including other women.
In the beginning, I’d waited for her to call and take back her insistence for me to fuck around, enjoy life’s riches, and then come back to her. When she didn’t, I started screwing my way through every weekend. It’s what she asked me to do. Then I’d come back to her, ready to settle down.
Hey, I’m a twenty-three-year-old man, and I’m pretty certain she isn’t so innocent herself.
Last I heard, Moira had been going out with the Anderson kid from the other side of town. His parents worked in corporate; he was a good catch, temporarily.
This little adventure in New York didn’t take away my plan to go home, live where I always lived, and make a life on our farm, doing what my stepdad had done.
Another horn blared, and I shoved any thoughts of Moira to the far back of my mind.
With my hand no longer calloused from hard labor, I pushed the heavy door open and made my way toward class.
Emerson
My head hurt. It ached and pounded. And my mouth?Ugh, it felt like it was full of sawdust.
“Ouch.” I brought my hands to my head and massaged my scalp, trying to stop the pain.
Once I’d rolled out of bed, I stumbled to the bathroom, peed, and started the coffeemaker next to the toilet.
Yes, you heard right.My coffeemaker is next to the toilet, wedged between the sink and the toilet tank. For the past couple of weeks, I’d been renting a tiny studio apartment in a building in Jamaica, Queens. Really, it wasn’t any more than a bedroom with a bath, that bathroom doubling as a kitchen. It wasn’t much, but I was making it work.
When I first got here, I spent most of my money on cheap hotels, dead-end bullshit, and some stupid, no-name PI who probably wasn’t even legit. He hosed me—but what did I expect? I found him through a Google search.
Oh, and my phone’s data plan was draining my reserves. I should have disconnected it ... all it did was remind me of the pain I was causing my dad. Between his concerned texts and Robby’s checking in, I’d never felt so bitchy.
This wasn’t me.
By the middle of June, I finally had to admit I wasn’t getting anywhere, fast or slow, so I took the remaining money I had left and settled in Queens. The owner of a Bangladeshi restaurant took pity and hired me a few days during the week, and I bartended opposite nights in a swanky joint over in Astoria. It was the tale of a million cities to me, but it was better than wasting a college education.
Oh, the final kicker:I put school in New Jersey on hold.
My dad was never going to speak to me again. I’d let him know through text. Was there any other way?
Since I got here, I’d started counting the minutes until Robby moved to New York. He was going to attend a pre-med program where he got a bachelor of science degree and worked toward a medical degree at the same time. It had like a 0.5 percent acceptance rate, and Robby was hot shit, so obviously, he got in. It helped he was from a Podunk beach town where hardly anyone ever escaped. That’s exactly why I’d hitched myself to his star.
He was a good choice. A smart choice.
Life in Sea Isle had been good, but I wanted something bigger. Clearly, serving Bangladeshi food that I couldn’t pronounce and slinging booze wasn’t it either, but it was my current status.
My cell phone rang, and I strained my ears, trying to determine where it was. It rang a second time, and I realized it was in my back pocket.
“Hello?” My voice came out still drunk and raspy.
