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Julia and Chloe seemed entirely in their element. A DJ spun music from a small stage, and flyers plastered all across the front promised that she was the newest and hottest DJ Chelsea had to offer. The club was dark, deafening, and filled with writhing bodies: on the dance floor, in the halls, against the bar. With just one tingling, bubbling gulp, the entire world around me seemed to evaporate until we were just three young friends in a limo barreling down the street to celebrate a new life.Īnd this night we weren’t just celebrating my arrival: Chloe Mills was getting hitched, Julia was visiting, and the newly single Sara had some living to do. We piled into the waiting car and Julia popped the champagne. I’m ready for a night out with the girls.” I’ve spent the past few weeks with the BB. You’re the one who’s been naked-sunbathing and day-drunk in a French villa for the past three weeks,” I said.Ĭhloe gave a little secret smile and tugged my arm. Besides,” she said, pointing to the street below, “it’s too late to change. “Well, some of the women there will be showing bare ass, so you won’t stand out if that’s what you’re worried about. “I’m dedicated to my freshly minted single-girl card.” “I don’t know how much skin I want to show,” I said. “We’re drinking and dancing, so showing some skin is requisite.” “Can’t think of one.” Chloe walked into the bedroom wearing a deep blue number that flowed around her like some kind of aura. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t wear this.” I’d have to delete all of those old Andy programs, immediately. I hated that my first instinct was to wonder if Andy would think it was too revealing, while my second instinct was to realize I loved it. In the bedroom, I tugged on the hem of the miniature, sequined dress and stared at the extreme amount of blindingly pale leg I was offering up tonight. And because tiny apartments were pretty much what you were going to find in New York when you moved there without first securing a place to live. The truth was, I chose it because it was different from anything I’d ever known before. Julia was only visiting for the weekend, for this night of celebration, but she’d already asked me at least ten times why I’d chosen such a tiny place. The living room/dining room/kitchen area was framed by giant bay windows, but the effect was less palatial and more fishbowl. It felt even smaller once I’d unpacked, put everything in its place, and had my two closest friends come over. I’d gone from an echoing, rambling Victorian in the Chicago suburbs to an adorable East Village apartment roughly the size of my former living room. It certainly wasn’t big enough to be labeled a full-fledged kitchen. “You’re wearing the silver dress or I’m stabbing you,” Julia called from the kitchen zone, as I’d begun calling it.

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