Chapter 1: Brooklyn
I fan myself with my test guide, feeling the sweat on my cleavage cool. I fix my now messy bun and glance at the clock on my phone, with a sigh, I pack up all of my things and leave the library, nodding my head at the janitor who I know all too well from staying here too late at night. My name, is Beatrice Prior, but all of my friends call me Tris for short. I am from Queens and I am 99% Puerto Rican. So, that means my hair is constantly curly and a puffy messy when I try to brush it and blow dry it. My boobs are a decent size, and my butt is bigger than most girls. That might seem like the cliche, stereotypical, thing to say but I can't blame my roots. I live in Flatbush, Brooklyn with my bestfriend, Christina. She and I are bestfriends and practically inseparable. . . we're like sisters. We are both from queens, she's half Puerto Rican while the other half is black, and a half of that half white. We're all mixed up!
We decided to move away when we saw things getting worse. . . more shootings, more killings, more raping. Brooklyn was the next best thing. We were both getting tired getting called, 'mámi' so moving away was the best thing ever! We are both 23 and living quite well if you ask me. We both have jobs working as bartenders at a club called, 'The Pit' and it's amazing there. It's a place crossed between a strip-club, and bar. But, without the naked hoes and raunchy girls just wear tighter, revealing, clothing. . .well except me. We usually do that, and the other times we are busy with our heads in the books trying to finish up our, 'extra college'. We both went to college already, I went for Literature and Photography while she went in for (PT) Physical Therapy, basically Biology. We spend the nights after work studying while smelling like beer.
Our parents live in Hoboken, New Jersey. Both of our families are close, all the way to the grandparents and cousins, so they all live there. . . all of them except us. During the days, we usually do our part time jobs, she works at a boutique on 5th street, and I do photography and volunteer to get information for bloggers. . . I have nothing else to do with my life. . . I also have a YouTube channel that is pretty popular so I spend some of my time doing that also working hard on my classes.
My heels click against the pavement as people of all sizes, race, and religion walk up and down the street. That is one thing about NY. . . we are all different. I finally make it to my apartment and I run up the steps quickly, pushing my key through the door. I go up the steps, ignoring our annoying, old lady, neighbor's dog barking at me. I open our door and smile when the aroma of enchiladas hit my nose, "Honey I'm home!" I shout jokingly walking into the kitchen to see Christina string over a pot while looking at 'our' grandmothers recipe.
"Just in time for dinner dear." Christina beams, jokingly. I laugh, "How did the interview go?" She asks sucking sauce off of her fingers and then goes to wash her hands. I am totally jealous of Christina, she has creamy, light brown skin with faint. . . faint. . . faint. . . freckles dotting her nose. Her hair is usually around her shoulders in a brown color, but for the occasion she puts her hair in braids that look stunning on her. Then, when she takes the hair out, her hair is really long but she gets it cut. Her butt is like mine, but her boobs are bigger. She's a total package, and to top it off, she is tall while I am stuck at 4''10
I sigh and shake my head, "I don't think it went well, they said that they are looking for more experienced people." I roll my eyes as she puts the sauce over the enchiladas with cheese and places it in the hot oven. She starts washing her hands again and cleaning the kitchen.
"Screw them." she roll her eyes and gives me a smile, pulling out a bottle of whisky. "What they are trying to say is, they want somebody dumber than you and not as talented to write a book while keeping the whole place managed and organized and they want there business to fail. I swear, you are the only person who has tackled two different majors and are doing a well job with them." She leans against our wooden counter.
"It's whatever, they're right."
"No, Beatrice Elizabeth Prior, I am not going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Tonight, we are going to eat our enchiladas, drink some whisky and have a long night's sleep until the morning calls." Christina was always the dominating one out of us both, she was more of the one people wanted to hang out with. That's until we got older though, I started feeling myself and now people can tolerate us both. But, she is still more outgoing than I am. "Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am!" I salute her. "I'm just going to take a quick shower before I eat, that damned library AC went out." I unbutton my shirt in front of her, leaving my bra revealed and my skirt still zipped up. I am totally cool with Christina seeing me undressed. . . just not naked.
"I still don't know why you go to Park Slope, it's one of the oldest libraries. You need to go to BPL where it's poppin'."
"I'm not going to a library where its, 'poppin' because I want to get my work done." I roll my eyes at her walking into my bedroom.
I get out of the shower, drying my feet on the fluffy, purple rug. I stare at myself in the mirror, where the fog stays on the side and see the smudge prints of my hands from wiping them away. I take a good look at myself, I have the pro's and the con's. I have my belly button pierced, my nose pierced, and more than two piercings in my ear. Black ink is drawn on my collard bone, showing three ravens. . . each one for my family. My parents, and my brother who lives in Maine. Then, I look to my other shoulder to see, Inhale el futuro, espire el pasado' written there which says, 'Inhale the future, exhale the past'. Then, on my left arm is a sleeve going up from my elbow to my wrist and on my right wrist is an infinity ring that matches Christina's. Mines has a 'C' in it while her's has a 'T'. I have another small saying by my breast, under my arm and a matching one on my hip bone. Finally, a small heart on the side of my right hand.
On my calf are faint hearts, and that's about it. Here in NY I've seen people with way more than me with high quality business jobs. Then, I look to my hair, it's a very light lavender color. . . almost blonde. You would have to get close to me to see it. I dyed it back about a year ago, and my hair is a bit past my shoulders. The con's are, I'm very short, skinny, and my eyes are almost like a dull grey-blue color. If it weren't for my hair color, I would have dull blonde hair. I give myself a fake smile, and see my perfect teeth and deep dimples. I shake my head at myself and dress for nighttime.
"Are you excited for tomorrow night?" Christina says after get our plates and sit on the couch, looking out our window where the faint skyline is. I furrow my eyebrows at her, "Summer fling?"
"Oh yeah." I nod my head laughing. The owner's of the place, Tori and Lauren run a tight place there and we usually have theme days live if a big game is coming up or Christmas. It's July and that means everyone that's out of school and of age comes to the Pit to get drinks and watch television while eating some food. It's a big day and we usually have a few rowdy people, so we are high alert.
"I can't wait." She gleams, biting into the delicious food.
"I don't know why?"
"What do you mean?" She sings like Justin Bieber making me roll my eyes at her, a small laugh passing through my pink lips.
"It's just a bunch of rowdy college guys who don't know how to keep their hands to themselves. We usually have to let security handle that, and by the night, I've seen tons of people makeout and I reek of alcohol. Not to mention, watching our 'janitor' 'clean' up the puke." I shiver and she laughs, her light brown eyes twinkling from the lights.
"It's just fun you know? Seeing all of those people having a good time, it's lively. You just don't feel restricted." She smiles and bites into her fork.
"I understand." I place my head on her shoulder, listening to the commotion of the Brooklyn people in the street walk and talk. . . leaving our television off. Enjoying the silence together, eating food, thinking about life, all while in Brooklyn.
I roughly swipe across my phone screen to stop the annoying alarm, even though I have nowhere particular to be, I don't like over sleeping. I throw my covers off of me, wishing that I could sleep until 12, but 11 is enough. I rub my face roughly to wake myself up, I sit up and walk to my bathroom and brush my teeth and hair. I leave my bedroom and go to the kitchen to see a note taped to a plate, "Went out for a run, Chris." I read aloud, looking at the plate to see two plain boiled eggs with salt and pepper on them, and slices of turkey bacon beside it. This is a no pork zone!
I quickly eat the boring breakfast and I clean my dishes, what to do what to do? I wonder as I walk around the apartment, realizing that I could have slept longer if I knew there was going to be nothing to do. I could get lost in one of my books. . . or, meet Christina down the block. . . nah. I clear my head and go to our patio with my laptop, I place it in my lap and open it up going to my word document.
Gunshots. That is the sound I hear while I lay in my bed, I lower my head under my pillow hoping to block out the nauseating noises. I've always wondered what would the world be without weapons? One half of me wants to get out of my bed and go into my parent's arms, while the other half wants to stick her head out of the window and see what all of the commotion is about. That's life in the Queens.
"Tris." I feel someone shaking my shoulder and I open my eyes to see Christina's hair all wet and curly while she has on a pair of really short shirts and a cropped tank-top. I hum to myself and look around to see that it's around mid-day and the people outside is more rowdy than it is in the morning. "I'm about to start studying, are you joining me?"
"At the library?" I yawn, stretching my sore muscles out, I look to see that I was in the middle of writing my introduction for my new book, 'Life in the Queens' or 'LITQ'
"Dressed like this?" She questions and I shake my head at her, I shut my screen and get up, feeling the impression of the patio chair on the back of my legs and butt. "How long have you been out here?" She asks as I go into my room and grab my books, headphones, and pencil case. I set it down in the dining room/living room and I go to the kitchen, stretching my arms and legs out again.
"I don't even know," I glance at the clock and sigh, in a few hours we will be leaving and going to the Pit. Sometimes when I am writing my books, or just short stories to get away from life, I end up loosing myself in it feeling like I am the character and I can do anything. I some times tend to fall asleep which makes me have to delete the massive amount of lowercase 'j's that were never ending due to my fingers pressing down on it. Without any further words, I take a glass of water with me and Christina and I go finish our homework and study.
I usually have extra classes on the side like, English and Math, those are the only two classes I take. Christina takes Math and Science, we usually do those classes so it's almost like a, 'refresher' for our jobs. I need English for writing and I need Math for calculating for Business and Management, "Not to ruin this swell time," Christina takes out her headphones, "But, we must leave now if we want to make it to the Pit on time." Christina stands up, slinging her long braids over her shoulder. I let out a sigh and finish my last math equation and slam my book shut with my pencil in the middle of the marker.
We both part our ways, the loud music blaring from the speakers that's hooked up to my phone going through the house. I get dressed in a pair of tight, jeans with large rips in them. It shows more leg than anything, so I know I will be cool. I put on some heels, and I put on a red t-shirt and I tie it in the front. I put on my VS bra and underwear set because it makes my boobs look bigger, Lauren likes us to look presentable and wear heels. I don't really don't really like that, but I need the job. I go to the bathroom and let my hair loose, it falls into a large heap of lavender and I sigh and start straightening it. I put on some eyeliner, mascara, and I line my lips with dark red and fill it in. I put in some gold, small, hoops and gold nose ring with matching belly ring.
I let out a sigh and put on some deodorant, I give myself one last look and I place my phone in my front pocket, "Ready Christina?" I shout, my heels clicking against the scuffed, wooden floor of our apartment. I hear her grunt in acknowledgement and she leaves her room in short, shorts. She has a crop top on, and matching heels. I fill my cheeks with air and blow it out, realizing what night it is. We make sure we lock up and leave the apartment, going into the crazy place we know as the world.