“Are you sure you want to go out?” My mother asks me. She’s leaning in the doorway to my room, watching me apply the final coat of mascara to my eyes. I have to admit that I’m wearing a lot of makeup, much more than I usually would on the occasion. I am a little undecided whether or not I like the change, but I decide to not decide – it’s a special occasion and I am dressing up for it.
I am beyond excited about the fact that Spencer is taking me into the city tonight. I wish my mother would stop pestering me with questions, otherwise I’m going to miss the bus.
“Yes, mum”, I breathe as I apply the last coat of red paint to my lips and turn to my bed to grab my clutch. It’s old and tattered, though its retro cartoon print matches the heels that encase my feet. These heels are the only pair I own, since I don’t care much for heels. Last year, though, when Willa and I went to the shops, she begged me to try on a pair of heels with her. The thick, boot heels were the only ones that interested me, and despite Willa’s disgust at the cartoon print and black laces, she understood that it was those or nothing. I ended up quite liking them, and so I bought them. Since then, I’ve worn them all but three times, so tonight I pulled them out of the wardrobe. I don’t know if the concept of my matching purse and shoes agree with the short white dress I’m wearing – the one I purchased at the mall last week – but I could care less. I want to wear this outfit, and so I will. I’m just hoping its adequate enough for the expensive restaurant Spencer is taking me to.
“Well, make sure you take some of those tablets with you. I don’t want you getting a headache and fainting at the table of a 5-star restaurant”, my mother chastises me.
“I am. I’m staying at Spencer’s dorm tonight. I start school at 11:40 tomorrow morning, so I’ll be home before then”, I explain to her.
She nods, and scoops her car keys from the hall table. “Well, I’ll take you to the subway, you won’t have to catch the bus. Are you sure you’re okay to get the train, Jordan? It’s getting dark, and there might be delays. You could be late…” She trails off, digging for excuses to deter me from my plans.
“I’ll be fine, Mum. It’s an express service – I’ll arrive in New York in just over an hour”, I say.
“Fine”, she huffs, and turns to walk to the car. I know she was just trying to look out for me, it’s a school night and I’ll be out late, out of the state. But my mother is never one to control me, so she will allow me to make my own decisions, whether she agrees or not. She also knows that I’m street smart, and that Spencer will look out for me. I follow her to the car and she drives me into town to the train station. I kiss her cheek goodbye, leaving a trace of my painted lips, and run for the train with my clutch swinging against my back.
My clutch is my favourite thing – I take it almost everywhere with me. The silk fabric on the outside is frayed, and the gold chain that acts as a shoulder strap flakes with tarnish, but I absolutely cherish this purse. It is the perfect size, and contains compartments that hold all of my things. The golden silk is home to a metal tin of mints, lip balm, a canister of lip stick, ear phones and my wallet. And, nurtured in the corner of the clutch, is a copy of Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens – my current read.
So, I sit in the corner of the train corridor, plug my earphones into my ear, and delve into the adventures of Philip Perrip.
*
When I leave the train, I move to a shaded bus stop and look for the headlights of Spencer’s car. It is 6:12, so I allow myself the tolerance of waiting, since I am early. He said he’d be picking me up just before 7 o’clock, and I wished I hadn’t caught the express transport.
I try to focus on the pages of the novel in my hands, but my eyes trail to the skyline painted so close to where I am sitting. I got off the subway at the station closest to the NYU campus, and I can see the lights and buildings glowing with prosperity in the distance. The longer I look at the flickering colours that seem to be mocking me, the more adrenaline courses through my veins. It’s quite silly, that I have been to the city quite a few times, but never truly experienced it; and I laugh quietly to myself at the absurdity. I have no idea why, but the exposure, the teasing, brings on a tinge of nerves. I am anxious about seeing the city of my dreams for the first time. My expectations are soaring, and I worry that the reality won’t meet my visions. No, of course it will. It’s New York City, of course it’s going to be amazing. Of course it’s going to be breath-taking. I’m going to love it.
