He Says, She Says
She says
So we were living in a small dirty apartment in New York City, and by we I mean Catherine and I. Cat and I were roommates at Manhattan college and ever since we've stuck together, even now while I attend NYU Law and she is working at some fashion agency, as an assistant. Basically she spends all day at their beck and call, but she wants to be a designer so this is her first step. And we live across the hall from Anderson, my best friend, and his roommate Dave who is never around. It wasn't the totally glamorous New York life that any of us expected, well except Liz, who got a job through her fathers connections. But Liz is completely beside the point.
I was up at 7:30 that morning making breakfast when Cat rushed out of her room without pants on. I was holding the coffee pot and just staring at her blankly. “I have five minutes, and I can’t find my skirt, you know the nice one,” she said trying to gesture about it.
I rolled my eyes and poured it in a cup, “it’s in my room.” She sighed a breath of relief and ran into the room. I left the cup of coffee on the edge of table and five seconds later she ran out with three bags draped from her shoulders and grabbed the cup.
“Thanks, bye,” she yelled as she opened the door, “oh and look who’s here.” She rolled her eyes as Anderson walked by wearing only his boxers and Cat left shaking her head. Believe it or not these morning visits were pretty routine.
He walked straight into my room and yelled, "What’s for breakfast."
I rolled my eyes as i turned around to check on my omelet. "What makes you think I'm going to give you breakfast," I said walking over to the peephole in our door and shaking my head, "when you leave poor Tiffany alone to find her way out of her apartment."
"Her name's Bridget," he yelled out of the room.
"Still doesn't make it right," I said sprinkling some extra cheese on top. I took the plate over to the table and started making another one. If I knew Anderson, which I do, no means nothing and he'd end up eating mine anyways.
"Blue dress," he walked out in some jeans and a sweat shirt and walked straight over to the table. He was looking over at me when I turned around, "let's see, you don't have a gig tonight. I'd know I'm your only fan, so what is it." I'm a mess, but I have to lay out my clothes for the next day, evening, and any other moment the night before.
"You are so not our only fan," I said flipping my omelet over, "people love us."
"Don't change the subject Sid," he looked at me.
"I'm not," I walked over to the table with my omelet, "the blue dress is for my date with Henry and CT is fantastic."
"Why are you still seeing Henry," he asked me the same way he does every time I bring up Henry.
I shrugged, "because he's smart, successful and handsome." Henry and I have been dating for four months, he's an architect, not to mention the manager of his firm, the top firm in New York.
"What about the fact that he's old and boring," he said.
"He is not old," I said defensively, "he's only like 31."
"And you are?"
"Age doesn't matter," I took a bite of my omelet.
"You are?"
"23," I shrugged and he nodded his head like he does every time he reminds me of our age difference. "Yeah because instead of a nice guy who likes me, I should totally be with someone my own age," I walked over to the door, "like you," I looked out the peep hole, "who would do me one night and then hide out the next morning till I find my own way out." I looked back and rose my eyebrow at him.
He took both our plates to the sink and then turned around and said, "we should be going."
I nodded, "that's what I thought."
"I'm not saying your right," he walked over and threw a jacket at me before we headed out. "There are worth while guys below the age of thirty."
"I'll believe it when I see it," I skipped down the stairs ahead of him.
"Look who I'm talking to," he said insinuating.
"And look who I'm talking to," I laughed, "you're wearing my jacket and you haven't even noticed."
"This is my jacket," he said, "it was in my pile."
"Your pile is all over my room, you have no pile," I said. We always took the subway on these mornings so that we could get to our nine o'clock Torts class on time. Being a lawyer wasn't my plan, but it was realistic. As for Anderson, well, it was a family thing and we all know how hard it is to disappoint family.
"Your room is a mess," he laughed pushed me as we walked into the room.
"Please tell me why I'm even here, why do we suffer through this class," I whined before I put my head down and fell asleep for the rest of the class. That is until the book I was sleeping on was stealthily pulled from underneath my head to signal the end of class. At least I had something to look forward to after a long day of school. I had a date with my boyfriend. What does Anderson have, work at Starbucks.
I was up at 7:30 that morning making breakfast when Cat rushed out of her room without pants on. I was holding the coffee pot and just staring at her blankly. “I have five minutes, and I can’t find my skirt, you know the nice one,” she said trying to gesture about it.
I rolled my eyes and poured it in a cup, “it’s in my room.” She sighed a breath of relief and ran into the room. I left the cup of coffee on the edge of table and five seconds later she ran out with three bags draped from her shoulders and grabbed the cup.
“Thanks, bye,” she yelled as she opened the door, “oh and look who’s here.” She rolled her eyes as Anderson walked by wearing only his boxers and Cat left shaking her head. Believe it or not these morning visits were pretty routine.
He walked straight into my room and yelled, "What’s for breakfast."
I rolled my eyes as i turned around to check on my omelet. "What makes you think I'm going to give you breakfast," I said walking over to the peephole in our door and shaking my head, "when you leave poor Tiffany alone to find her way out of her apartment."
"Her name's Bridget," he yelled out of the room.
"Still doesn't make it right," I said sprinkling some extra cheese on top. I took the plate over to the table and started making another one. If I knew Anderson, which I do, no means nothing and he'd end up eating mine anyways.
"Blue dress," he walked out in some jeans and a sweat shirt and walked straight over to the table. He was looking over at me when I turned around, "let's see, you don't have a gig tonight. I'd know I'm your only fan, so what is it." I'm a mess, but I have to lay out my clothes for the next day, evening, and any other moment the night before.
"You are so not our only fan," I said flipping my omelet over, "people love us."
"Don't change the subject Sid," he looked at me.
"I'm not," I walked over to the table with my omelet, "the blue dress is for my date with Henry and CT is fantastic."
"Why are you still seeing Henry," he asked me the same way he does every time I bring up Henry.
I shrugged, "because he's smart, successful and handsome." Henry and I have been dating for four months, he's an architect, not to mention the manager of his firm, the top firm in New York.
"What about the fact that he's old and boring," he said.
"He is not old," I said defensively, "he's only like 31."
"And you are?"
"Age doesn't matter," I took a bite of my omelet.
"You are?"
"23," I shrugged and he nodded his head like he does every time he reminds me of our age difference. "Yeah because instead of a nice guy who likes me, I should totally be with someone my own age," I walked over to the door, "like you," I looked out the peep hole, "who would do me one night and then hide out the next morning till I find my own way out." I looked back and rose my eyebrow at him.
He took both our plates to the sink and then turned around and said, "we should be going."
I nodded, "that's what I thought."
"I'm not saying your right," he walked over and threw a jacket at me before we headed out. "There are worth while guys below the age of thirty."
"I'll believe it when I see it," I skipped down the stairs ahead of him.
"Look who I'm talking to," he said insinuating.
"And look who I'm talking to," I laughed, "you're wearing my jacket and you haven't even noticed."
"This is my jacket," he said, "it was in my pile."
"Your pile is all over my room, you have no pile," I said. We always took the subway on these mornings so that we could get to our nine o'clock Torts class on time. Being a lawyer wasn't my plan, but it was realistic. As for Anderson, well, it was a family thing and we all know how hard it is to disappoint family.
"Your room is a mess," he laughed pushed me as we walked into the room.
"Please tell me why I'm even here, why do we suffer through this class," I whined before I put my head down and fell asleep for the rest of the class. That is until the book I was sleeping on was stealthily pulled from underneath my head to signal the end of class. At least I had something to look forward to after a long day of school. I had a date with my boyfriend. What does Anderson have, work at Starbucks.