JENNIE
"New York is the best city in the world, Jennie—it's incredible. I've lived there for five years now, and I still haven't seen all of it. I bet that even in a lifetime you never could," Sophia says while scrubbing at a baking pan that I burned a batch of dough in.
I hadn't been paying attention. I was too lost in my own mind after hearing Lisa's arrogant, uncaring words to notice the smoke coming from the oven. Only when Sophia and Karen came rushing into the kitchen from the pantry was my attention brought to the burnt dough.
Neither of them chastised me, though, and Sophia just sprayed it under cold water to cool it down and then started scrubbing.
"Seattle is the largest city I've been to, but I'm ready for New York. I need to get away from here," I tell them. Lisa's face just won't disappear from my mind as I say the words.
Karen gives me a smile as she pours each of us a glass of milk. "Well, I live close to NYU, so I can show you around if you want me to. It's always good to know someone, especially in such a big city."
"Thank you," I tell her, meaning it. Jisoo will be there, but she will be just as lost as I will surely be, so we could both use a friend out there. The thought of living in New York City is so intimidating, it's almost overwhelming, but I'm sure everyone feels like that before moving across the country. If Lisa were coming along . . .
I shake my head to rid it of the useless thoughts. I couldn't even convince Lisa to move to Seattle for me—she would laugh in my face at
New York. And she takes my plans, what I want, so for granted that she thinks I'll forgive her just because I have in the past.
"Well"—Karen smiles, lifting her glass of milk to mine—"here's to New York and new adventures!" She beams. Sophia raises her glass, and I can't help but play Lisa's words in my head as we toast.
"She'll forgive me, she always does. You'll see," she told Jisoo.
The fear of moving across the country lessens with each word of her as they play on a loop through my thoughts, each syllable a smack in the face to the tiny scrap of dignity I have left.