You Clicked Your Heels and Wished for Me

I looked around at my make-shift bedroom--a nine-by-twelve den, with a pull-out sleeper couch, and a DVD cupboard posing as a dresser. I left the old Andy behind in Washington. I unpacked her from my suitcase, and hung her smiling face in the closet with the rest of my skeletons. Andrea Marie Brock was the only one still standing.

"Are you planning on leaving sometime soon?" My roomate, Brenna King said, poking her head through the door without knocking. It reminded me of Wren, the best friend I kept forgetting to call. "The Rainbow Room waits for no man!"

I threw on my pea coat, slipped into a pair of heels, and stumled along after the only friend I had in NYC. Both of us ended up being waitresses at one of New York's tackiest hottest restaurants. We managed to end our night shifts with only a couple handfulls of phone numbers that we hadn't asked for, and only a few grabs at asses.

We walked three blocks to the metro, payed for our tickets, and clambered onto the subway. We were half-flattened against the side doors, and waited impatiently for enough personal space to exhale. To me, that was one of the things I'd given up to finish college. In a city where everyone was on their own, there really was no independence.

"So, someone called for you last night, when you were sleeping." Brenna said as she tossed her blonde hair in a massive pile ontop of her head before securing it with an elastic. "Uh, Pat? He kept asking me where you were, but he didn't believe me when I said you were busy. He sounded like a girl."

"What did he want?" I asked. I kept my eyes fixated on my shoes.

"To know when you're going home."

"Not happening." I said with a shake of my head. "I've only got two months left on my degree, then I can go--"

"Back to Tempe, because that boy you had is in complete love with you?" Brenna said, looking sickeningly optimistic.

I shook my head again. "Not after I left him like that. I know for a fact that he hates me."

"No he doesn't." She crossed her arms. "Who told you that?"

I didn't answer. The doors opened, and I glanced around at the dirty subway station. Everything looked the same here. I knew it was worth it to be able to finish college, but maybe I'd given up too much this time. Maybe I should given him a chance to explain. Maybe I was wrong about everything, and he really didn't hate me. I hated myself, and that was enough to keep me from Arizona.

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"Hey, baby, why don't you let me take you out tomorrow night?" Someone said, grabbing at me from behind. I hated bussing tables, but being the youngest on staff, I was practically abused by the rest of the people here simply because they could walk all over me.

I turned around, to see the same guy who'd hit on me week after week. In the background, Break Out! Break Out! was thumping. Everyone was dancing with their hands in the air, with their boyfriends. I rolled my eyes. "How about you go in the back alley, and kick your own ass for thinking that my answer would be different from when you asked me last night?"

I stormed off, only to be stopped in my tracks. Arms enveloped me, I squirmed away instinctively, and took a step backwards. My jaw hit the floor when I was met by a familiar smirk. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you're not answering anyone's phone calls, so I came to get you myself."

I averted my eyes and tried desperately to find something in the room worth looking at. There was no way in hell that I was looking him in the eyes. "I'm not going back. I've got a degree to finish--"

"And an ex-boyfriend to run from?" John said, "You should've listened to him."

"He hates me."

"He came to find you, actually. He's back at the hotel. Come with me." He took my hand, but I pulled away. "Come on, Andy."

"Andrea." I corrected. "Nobody calls me that anymore."

"We're at the Four Seasons, alright? Please, Andy--Uh, Andrea."

"John--" I looked over my shoulder at the growing crowd of customers, "I've got to finish taking orders. I can't just leave in the middle of my shift because you told me to."

With that, I left him, just like I've left everyone else that mattered to me in the least. I could hear him calling after me, but it didn't make a difference. Part of me felt obligated to hear him out, but that just wasn't my nature. Never fight, always flight.