by Vi Keeland
The apartment I’d be living in with three roommates sat atop a Greek restaurant called Eleni’s, and the smell of lemon, garlic and grilling chicken saturated the air outside.
This neighborhood was nothing like the small rural town where I was from, upstate in the Hudson Valley. Seriously, this could be an episode of MTV’s The Real World: Country bumpkin afraid of trains and crowds moves to New York. Let’s chronicle her trials and tribulations and watch in amusement as the big city swallows her up whole and spits her out.
The vibe was different here, and I could immediately tell there would be loads of culture. The area seemed cosmopolitan and small townish at the same time and reminded me of movies like Goodfellas. I got chills because even though it scared the daylights out of me, it had always been my dream to live near Manhattan. Brooklyn was as close as I was gonna get.
It was the middle of the afternoon, so I was pretty sure my roommates, whom I hadn’t even met yet, would be working. I wanted to take the time to get acclimated to the apartment alone, maybe take a bath.
I’d be living with my childhood friend Ryan and two other people: a guy and a girl whose names I didn’t even know. When I was accepted into Long Island University’s nursing program at the Brooklyn campus, I immediately contacted Ryan to see if he could help me find an apartment. It just so happened that one of his roommates had recently moved out, so the timing was perfect.
The steps creaked as I made my way upstairs. The faint sound of a woman swearing when I passed by the second floor made me wonder about the neighbors.
Our apartment was on the third floor, and I struggled with the key before slowly opening the door, which lead right into the main living area.
It was nicer than I had expected. There was a small kitchen off to the left, and everything was open concept. I looked around and noticed how homey the living room was, with a brown suede sectional and a multi-colored, knitted throw on top that looked like someone’s grandmother had made it. There was a brick wall that added character and built-in bookshelves on the other side of the room next to a large window with a reading nook that let in generous sunlight. The apartment smelled like coffee, and there was some leftover in a pot on the kitchen counter. It felt like I was invading someone else’s house. I had to remind myself that this was my home now.
Past the living room, there were two bedrooms on each side of the hallway and a bathroom straight ahead at the end. Ryan told me he would leave my room door open and there was a sticky note on the first door on the left that said “Nina’s Room.” A smiley face was drawn next to my name, which immediately gave me some comfort in an otherwise nerve-wracking situation.
I wheeled my suitcase inside and plopped the duffel bag on the full size bed. The walls were a pale gray, and there were no windows. This room was definitely going to need some sprucing up, and I couldn’t wait to go shopping tomorrow. I was too tired today to deal with redecorating.
I unzipped my suitcase and started to unpack when I suddenly noticed that there seemed to be low music coming from one of the bedrooms. The doors were closed, so I had initially assumed no one was home. I cracked my bedroom door open to listen in and suspected it was coming from the room diagonally across at the far end of the hallway.
Then, I heard a girl’s laugher over the music. Crap. I wasn’t ready to meet anyone. I stayed still, wondering whether I should just hide in my room and pretend I wasn’t here or go across the hall to say hello.
Before I could think it over, I heard a male voice moaning. Then, the girl moaned too.
Shit. They were having sex.
I stayed still, pondering whether I should just quietly sneak out of the house and go shopping now instead of tomorrow. It would be awkward running into them, if they knew I had heard them.
After ten minutes of trying to ignore the bed squeaking amidst “oh yeahs” and “aaahs” from the very vocal female participant, I decided to hightail it out of there.
I was lingering behind the entrance to my room, about to make my exit, when the door across the hall abruptly burst open releasing the sound of metal music and laughter. I froze behind the door, unable to open or close it completely, for fear of being found out. So I stayed still, peeking through the slightly open crack.
All I could see were feet pass by my room, but couldn’t make out faces. The male was tall with dark clothing and the female had a large purple rose tattoo on her ankle.
They were talking and laughing in the living room for a few minutes, and then I heard some keys and a door slam.
The apartment then turned eerily silent. Relieved, I concluded that they had left together.
Thank goodness that was over.
I spent the rest of the afternoon alone in my room unpacking. After my clothes were put away, I meandered out to the kitchen to make some chamomile tea and relax while I got accustomed to my surroundings. As I was pouring the boiling water, I heard the front door latch.
“Neeners!” Ryan shouted as he noticed me in the kitchen.
I placed my tea on the counter and ran over to my old friend, hugging him tightly. “Hey! I made it.”
“You did. How was the ride?” he asked.
“Not bad, just a couple of hours by bus and I took a cab here.”
“A cab? Must have been expensive. You didn’t want to take the subway from the bus station, huh? I figured.”
I looked down at my feet. “No, I’m not there yet. I have to work on that.”
Ryan had known me since I was ten and was best friends with my older brother, Jimmy. As a result, he was like a brother to me too and knew way more than he should about me, not all of it good.
Ryan sighed. “So, we’re still not taking subways, not riding in elevators, not flying. What else are we afraid of these days? Our own shadow?”
“We are working on it, Ry…I told you.”
He shook his head and tapped my shoulder lightly. “It’s only gonna get worse, Nina.”
The truth was, as of the past few years, irrational fears had started to rule my life. I avoided certain situations like the plague and would go to great lengths and inconveniences to do so, like taking a bus instead of flying from New York to Texas to visit my friend in Houston, or taking the stairs instead of the elevator.
Over the years, the situation had gotten progressively worse and was quite paralyzing. It kept me from doing things that I would have loved, like traveling the world. A couple of years ago, at its worst, I had started to develop a full-blown fear of leaving the house. Through cognitive behavioral therapy, I was able to overcome my agoraphobia. So, I had come a long way, but there were still a lot of phobias that remained.
This all started one day with a panic attack in high school. We were on a field trip to the New York Public Library, and a few classmates and I got stuck in a dark elevator. I had begun to hyperventilate and thought I was going to die. Fifteen minutes later, the elevator moved, but the post-traumatic stress from that moment stuck. I have gone out of my way ever since to avoid crowds, subways, planes, heights, enclosed spaces or anything else that made me feel trapped.
“How are you going to work in a hospital someday if you can’t ride in an elevator, Nina? Are you gonna tell your dying patients to press five and fend for themselves while you take the stairs?”
“Ry, I’ll have it under control by then, okay? I appreciate your concern, but I have to do things in my own time. For now, I just need to focus on school starting Monday.”
“Okay, I’ll lay off your case…for now.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Much appreciated.”
Ryan looked around and gestured with open arms. “So, how do you like the place?”
The truth was, I was feeling a little anxious about living away from home for the first time, but I put on a brave face. “I like it. My room is a little drab but that’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”
He started walking down the hall and waved for me to follow him. “Come on, let me show you around.”
&nbs
p; “As you know, this first room on the left here is now yours,” he said, pointing to my room.
I nodded and followed him as he entered the next room on the left at the end of the hall, which was just past mine.
“This is my room,” he said.
Ryan’s room was immaculate with neutral colors and no clutter. On his chest of drawers, there was a picture of him and my brother Jimmy boating on the Hudson River. It made me smile to see that he had it displayed. I picked up the picture and looked around the room. “Wow, ever the neat freak, as always, Ry.”
“Indeed, Troll.”
“I was wondering how long it would take before that old nickname came out.”
Ryan and Jimmy always teased me growing up, because of my resemblance to the Olsen twins from that old show Full House. They called me the missing triplet. The name started out as “‘Trolsen,” which stood for “Triplet” and “Olsen,” then evolved over time into “Troll.” Even though it was meant to be a term of endearment, it bugged me sometimes. Admittedly, with my petite build, long dirty blond hair and very large blue eyes, I did look somewhat like those celebrity twins.
Ryan stepped out of his room, and I followed him.
“Okay, you may need to put on some sunglasses for this one,” he said as he opened the door across the hall.
“This…is Jake’s room.”
Jake. The sex room.
If this room had a theme song, it would be Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N’ Roses. It was a complete contrast to Ryan’s bedroom. It was smoky, musky and mysterious. Now, I knew what he meant about the sunglasses. The walls were a neon orange. Everything else in the room was black: black furniture, black bedding and a black window shade to keep out the light, since this room actually had a window.
It was like every component of the room contradicted another part: neon orange and black, bright window with a dark shade. On top of that, there was a large collection of gargoyle figurines atop the dresser, but right next to them was a black and white picture of two adorable little girls who looked identical. Whoever this guy was, he was an enigma.
“What’s Jake’s deal?” I asked.
Ryan ran his hand over his short blonde hair and laughed. “Jake…how could I possibly sum up Jake? He’s…different.”
I laughed. “What do you mean different?”
“I mean, he’s cool…he’s just a lot of things. You’ll have to meet him to know what I am talking about. He’s from Boston. He pretty much takes off and goes back there every weekend. I don’t know what he does there or if he has some side business or something. He’s kind of secretive. I know his family lives there. He’s close to his nieces apparently,” he said gesturing to the photo.
“What does he do for a living?”
“Actually, it’s sick how smart he is. He’s an engineer for a company in the city, and he pretty much can fix anything that breaks in the house. But when you see him, you’re gonna be like, ‘he’s an engineer?’”
“What do you mean, when I see him?”
Ryan grinned. “He’s interesting.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
I didn’t mention to Ryan that I had already kind of gotten a preview of my own regarding Jake’s interests. I could never admit that I was hiding behind a door listening in while Jake “entertained” his guest.
Ryan led me back down the hall, opening the door right across from mine.
“This…is Tarah’s room.”
This was the best bedroom in the house. Like Jake’s, it had a window, but was painted a delicate lavender. There was a built-in white bookshelf, neatly organized with books and pictures and the room smelled like fresh laundry. It looked like a page out of a Pottery Barn catalog. The sun was streaming in, and I was so wishing this was my room.
“So, what’s Tarah like?”
Ryan blushed. “She’s really cool.”
“She is not with Jake, by any chance, is she?” I asked, thinking about the rendezvous I overheard earlier.
“Hell no! Why would you ask that?” he snapped.
“I was just wondering.”
“Trust me, there is nothing going on between Tarah and Jake.”
“And that’s because…?”
Ryan’s face turned red again, and he gave me a look that answered my question.
“Tarah…and you?” I asked.
He smiled. “Yup.”
“Really…”
“Yeah, it’s new…six weeks now. Wait ‘til you meet her. She’s awesome.”
“Nice, Ryan. I am so happy for you. But what if it doesn’t work out? I mean, you’re living together. Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Probably. But I can’t worry about that right now.”
“Well, I can’t wait to meet her.”
“I think you two will get along really well. She’s a hair colorist for a salon in the city. She’s working until close tonight, but she should be home around nine.”
I suddenly yawned, and then my stomach growled. “I am starving, but I haven’t had a chance to food shop.”
“No need. Let’s go downstairs to Eleni’s. My treat. Phenomenal Greek food.”
“I know. I smelled it on the way in here.”
As Ryan and I headed downstairs, I heard the same swearing from the apartment below us. The woman seemed to have a Jamaican accent.
“What is up with the lady on the second floor?” I asked.
“Oh, you just wait. That is just another benefit of living here, Troll. If I tell you, it will ruin it,” he said laughing.
“Okay, I am not even going to ask.”
***
After a fantastic dinner of Greek salad and chicken skewers, we returned to the apartment to have the baklava pastry the owner, Telly, gave us to welcome me to the neighborhood. After just one meal, I already knew I would need to limit my Eleni’s intake, or I was going to go broke and get fat.
I brewed a pot of coffee as Ryan got out the plates, and we reminisced about high school.
“So, Troll, no boyfriend at the moment?”
I sighed. “No. I was seeing someone at home for a few weeks, but I just wasn’t feeling it. Then, knowing I was about to move away, I decided to break it off. It wasn’t worth the effort.”
“Well, they can’t all be like Stuart, can they?”
Stuart was my first boyfriend in high school. He was sensitive and sweet and the constant butt of Jimmy and Ryan’s jokes.
“Ugh…did you have to bring him up? Poor Stuart. He was awesome, though.”
Ryan snickered. “He was a friggin’ girl. Stuart and his paper birds! What was it he used to do?”
I giggled recalling the memory. “Aw, Stuart was the sweetest thing. He knew the combination to my locker, and he would create these little ornate origami birds out of construction paper. Then, I would unfold them, and there would be these little poems that rhymed inside each one. It was romantic.”
Just then, footsteps crept up behind us, and a deep raspy voice that cut through me said, “That is…the STUPIDEST fucking thing I have ever heard.”
When I turned around, the immediate but unwanted reaction my insides felt at the sight of him told me I was in trouble.
Reality Show Scene Three, enter stage left: hot womanizing roommate.
Then, came the three words that would change my life. “Hi, I’m Jake.”
CHAPTER 2
Jake stuck out his tattooed-covered arm prompting me to take his hand and flashing a smile that could only be described as devilish. “You must be Neenee,” he said.
I coughed nervously, and a weird sound came out of my mouth that I couldn’t quite identify. It might have been my body saying, Well lookey here, she isn’t dead from the waist down after all.
He was freaking beautiful.
“It’s Nina, actually,” I said shaking his calloused hand, noticing a silver thumb ring. The warmth of his skin in the brief contact didn’t escape me, nor did the fact that my hand lingered longer than it should have. It might
have trembled.
“I know your name. I’m just fucking with you.” He flashed a wicked grin and winked. My body’s reaction to that made me question my own sanity.
He smelled like a mixture of cigarettes and cologne, which was oddly arousing. He had a brow ring and a bottom lip ring, and his incisors were very pointed and sharp. His eyes were green with gold speckles, brought out even further by his contrasting short dark hair.
Come to think of it, Jake was like a black cat – gorgeous, but very likely bad luck if it crossed your path.
“Nice to meet you, Jake.”
He leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and gave me a once-over that sent a shiver down my spine. “So, who is Stuart, why is he making you origami bird poems, and who cut off his balls?”
I laughed. “Stuart was my boyfriend freshman year of high school. Ryan decided to bring him up now for no good reason.”
“What brings you to Brooklyn?”
“I start nursing school on Monday. Long Island University.”
Jake scratched his chin, sarcastically pensive. “Isn’t that in Long Island?”
“No, there’s a Brooklyn campus. It’s actually not far from the apartment.”
Ryan interjected. “With your fear of subways, that’s a good thing.”
I shot Ryan a death glare.
Great. He was going to embarrass me in front of Jake.
“What’s this, now?” Jake asked, lifting his brow.
“Thanks, a lot, Ryan,” I said, seriously pissed.
He gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry. It just came out.”
“It’s nothing,” I said looking at Jake, waving my hand, hoping he’d drop the subject.
Jake continued to stare at me quizzically. “Are you seriously afraid of the subway or something?”
“She’s afraid of everything: planes, elevators, heights...” Ryan let out a frustrated sigh.
I widened my eyes at him again, then looked at Jake and shrugged my shoulders trying to downplay it. “I just get a little nervous in crowded, contained places. That’s all.”