Chapter 8

Caroline sat in the office she shared with three other interns looking out the window. She was supposed to be researching the top five trends for the coming year, but instead of calling designers she was thinking about lunch.
Almost noon, she thought, lunch. Sushi? Or I could try that new Indian place I saw yesterday. Hmm. She smiled remembering her old lunches. It’s so nice to not have to bring a lunch and to have more than 10 minutes to eat. And to be able to get something like sushi, not just pizza or sandwiches...awesome. Of course, she thought as her smile fell, it would be nice to have someone to eat with. I’d eat with the other interns but I don’t think they eat, just smoke. Caroline sighed and turned back to her desk to pick up the phone. Her fingers hesitated before she dialed a number she knew by heart.
Before anyone could answer, she hung up and rested her head on the desk. I can’t talk to them yet, she thought, I need more time. I want everything to be perfect before I call home because I know Amy and Jimmy and everyone will try to convince me to give it up. But even if I’m not happy here right now, I will be, damn it. I just need more time.
The shrill ring of the phone startled her into answering without checking the caller id.
“Vain Magazine, Caroline speaking.”
“Why’d you call me and hang up?” scolded a familiar voice. “You think I have other friends with a NYC area code?”
Crap, Caroline thought, as she replied, “Hey, Amy, I’m so sorry. I meant to call earlier, but then…”
“You thought I’d yell at you for not calling before now? Yeah, I might. You drove off a month ago and no one’s heard from you since. So, yes, we might be a little pissed. And worried. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing, Amy, I’ve just been so busy getting settled and with this new job and everything…”
“That you haven’t been able to answer the phone. Listen, Caroline, I’ve known you an awful long time. Long enough to know when something’s wrong. So, come on, I promise I won’t bitch at you anymore, but I want to know how things are going up there.”
Caroline closed her eyes and prepared to lie. “Well, I got a new job as a paid intern at Vain Magazine, which is awesome because you know I’ve always wanted to be an editor, and I’m living in this great apartment on the East Side with two other interns and a model and..” Her voice broke.
“Sweetie! What is it; are you crying?”
“No,” she said, sniffling, “allergies. Listen, I’ve got to go, my boss is calling me. I promise I’ll call you later.” Before Amy could protest, Caroline hung up the phone.
Leaning her head on her hands, she sat through her lunch hour, trying to figure out where things had gone wrong.
I’m doing what I always talked about—living in the City, working for a magazine, living uptown…I’m like one of the Sex in the City girls. Only not have as much sex. Or as happy. I thought I would like this job more as time passed, but it’s been almost a month and I think I actually hate it. All I do is ask designers the silliest questions, like ‘is green the new black’ and get coffee. And the apartment, whew…that’s an issue for another day. At least researching these articles keeps me here late—the less time with my roommates, the better. Not that they’re bad people. They probably wouldn’t be so bitchy if they ate something.
She frowned, remembering. I can’t believe they were talking about me this morning or that it took me so long to realize they were talking about me, but then I don’t usually think of myself as a heifer. And as I pointed out to them, once I’d calmed down, I’m not the one who fainted on the subway last week. Anyway, I can’t afford to move out and I only just got this job, so I need to get over it and try to assimilate. They are Borg: resistance is useless.
But that was one nice thing about Xander, he liked me just as I am. Crap. One of the many, many nice things about Xander. God, I miss him. The way he looked at me in the morning, like I was fresh squeezed orange juice, the way he laughed, the way he folded over the pages of paperbacks. That used to drive me crazy but now… She could feel herself gearing up for a good cry. “Not going to happen,” she declared. “There’s no crying in baseball and there’s certainly no crying at work.”