Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Know (30 page)

She looked like she was trying to find the most tactful way of saying something. ‘Yes, for New York, it's a great apartment. It's just hard to imagine paying so much and getting so little. You know your sister and Kyle only pay fourteen hundred a month total for their condo, and they have central air, marble bathrooms, brand-new dishwasher and washer-dryer, and three bedrooms and two bathrooms?' she pointed out, as if she were the first to make this realization. For $2,280 you could get a beachfront townhouse in LA, a three-story condo on a tree-lined street in Chicago, a four-bedroom split-level in Miami, or a goddamn castle with a moat in Cleveland. Yes, we knew this.

‘And two parking spots, access to the golf course, gym, and pool,' I added helpfully. ‘Yeah, I know. But believe it or not, this is a great deal. I think we'll be very happy here.'

She hugged me. ‘I think you will be, too. As long as you don't work too hard to enjoy it,' she said lightly.

My dad walked in and opened the duffel bag that he'd been dragging around all day, one I'd assumed held racquetball clothes for his game later. But he pulled out a maroon box emblazoned with ‘Limited Edition!' across the front. Scrabble. The collector's edition, where the board came mounted on its own lazy Susan and the squares had little raised borders so the letters didn't slide around. We'd been admiring them together in specialty game stores for the past ten years, but no occasion had ever warranted purchasing one.

‘Oh, Dad. You shouldn't have!' I knew the board cost well over two hundred dollars. ‘Oh! I just love it!'

‘Use it in good health,' he said, hugging me back. ‘Or better yet, to kick your old man's ass, as I know you will. I remember when I used to let you win. I had to, or you'd stomp around the house, sulking all night. And now! Well, now my old brain cells are fried and I couldn't beat you if I tried. Not that I won't,' he added.

I was about to tell him that I'd learned from the best, but Alex had walked in. And he didn't look happy.

‘What's wrong?' I immediately asked as he fidgeted with his sneakers.

‘Oh, nothing at all,' he lied while glancing in the direction of my parents. He shot me a ‘just hold on a sec' look and said, ‘Here, I brought a box.'

‘Let's go get a few more,' my dad said to my mom, moving toward the door. ‘Maybe Mr Fisher has some sort of cart. We could bring a bunch up at once. Be right back.'

I looked at Alex, and we both waited until we'd heard the elevator open and close.

‘So, I just talked to Lily,' he said slowly.

‘She's not still mad at me, is she? She's been so weird all week.'

‘No, I don't think it's that.'

‘So what is it?'

‘Well, she wasn't at home …'

‘So where is she? Some guy's apartment? I can't believe she's late for her own moving day.' I yanked open one of the windows in the converted bedroom to let some of the cold air dissipate the smell of new paint.

‘No, she was actually at a police precinct in midtown.' He looked at his shoes.

‘She was where? Is she OK? Ohmigod! Was she mugged or raped? I have to go to her right away.'

‘Andy, she's fine. She was arrested.' He said it quietly, as if he were breaking the news to a parent that their child wasn't going to pass fourth grade.

‘Arrested? She was arrested?' I tried to stay calm, but I realized too late that I was screaming. My dad walked in, pulling a giant cart that looked ready to topple under the weight of unevenly stacked boxes.

‘Who was arrested?' he asked off-handedly. ‘Mr Fisher brought all this stuff up for us.'

I was racking my brain for a lie, but Alex stepped in before I could think of anything remotely plausible. ‘Oh, I was just telling Andy that I saw on VH-1 last night that one of the girls from TLC was arrested on drug charges. And she always seemed like one of the straighter ones …'

My dad shook his head and surveyed the room, only half listening and probably wondering when exactly Alex or myself had become so interested in female pop stars that we actually discussed it. ‘I'm thinking that the only real place your bed can go is with the head against the far wall,' he said. ‘Speaking of which, I better go see how they're doing.'

I literally flung my body in front of Alex the minute the apartment door closed.

‘Quickly! Tell me what happened. What happened?'

‘Andy, you're shrieking. It's not so bad. Actually, it's kind of funny.' His eyes crinkled as he laughed, and for a brief second he looked just like Eduardo. Ew.

‘Alex Fineman, you better fucking tell me right now what happened with my best friend—'

‘OK, OK, relax.' He was clearly enjoying this. ‘She was out with some guy last night that she referred to as Tongue Ring Boy – do we know who that is?'

I stared at him.

‘Anyway, they went out for dinner and Tongue Ring Boy was walking her home, and she thought it'd be fun to flash him, right there on the street outside the restaurant. “Sexy,” she said. To get him interested.'

I envisioned Lily unwrapping a dinner mint and strolling outside after a romantic meal, only to pull away and yank up her shirt for a guy who'd paid to have someone ram a post through his tongue. Jesus.

‘Oh no. She didn't …'

Alex nodded somberly, trying not to laugh.

‘You're telling me my friend got arrested for showing her breasts? That's ridiculous. This is New York. I see women every day who are practically topless – and that's in the workplace!' I was shrieking again, but I couldn't help it.

‘Her bottom.' He was looking at his shoes again, and his face was so red, I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or hysterical.

‘Her what?'

‘Not her breasts. Her bottom. Her lower half. Like, all of it. Front and back.' An ear-to-ear grin had finally broken out, and he looked so delighted that I thought he might wet himself.

‘Oh, say it isn't true,' I moaned, wondering what my friend had gotten herself into now. ‘And a cop saw her and arrested her?'

‘No, evidently two little kids saw her do it and pointed it out to their mother …'

‘Oh, god.'

‘So, the mother asked her to pull her pants back up, and Lily loudly told her what she could do with her opinions, and the woman went and found a cop standing on the next street over.'

‘Oh, stop. Oh, please, just stop.'

‘It gets better. By the time the woman and the cop came back, Lily and Tongue Ring Boy were going at it on the street, pretty hot and heavy from what she said.'

‘Who is this? This is my friend Lily Goodwin? My sweet, adorable best friend from eighth grade now gets naked and hooks up on street corners? With guys who have tongue rings?'

‘Andy, calm down. Really, she's fine. The only reason the cop actually arrested her was because she gave him the finger when he asked if she had, in fact, pulled her pants down …'

‘Oh, my god. I can't take it anymore. This is what it must feel like to be a mother.'

‘… but they let her go with just a warning, and she's going back to her apartment to recover – sounds like she was pretty drunk. I mean, why else would someone flip off a police officer? So don't worry. Let's get you moved in and then we can go see her if you want.' He headed toward the cart my dad had left in the middle of the living room and started unloading boxes.

I couldn't wait until later; I had to see what had happened. She picked up on the fourth ring, right before it clicked into voice mail, as if she'd been debating whether or not to answer it.

‘Are you OK?' I asked her the second I heard her voice.

‘Hey, Andy. Hope I'm not screwing up the move at all. You don't need me, right? Sorry about all this.'

‘No, I don't care about that, I care about you. Are you OK?' It had just occurred to me that Lily may have spent the night at the police station, considering that it was early Saturday morning and she was just leaving. ‘Did you stay overnight? In
jail
?'

‘Well, yeah, I guess you could say that. It wasn't so bad, nothing like TV or anything. I just slept in this room with one other totally harmless girl who was in for something just as stupid. The guards were totally cool – it really wasn't a big deal. No bars or anything.' She laughed, but it sounded hollow.

I digested this for a moment, tried to reconcile the image of sweet little hippie Lily getting cornered in a urine-flooded cell by an extremely angry and possessive lesbian. ‘Where the hell was Tongue Ring Boy through all of this? Did he just leave you to rot in jail?' But before she could answer, it occurred to me: Where the hell was I through all of this? Why hadn't Lily called me?

‘He was actually really great, he—'

‘Lily, why—'

‘… offered to stay with me and even called his parents' lawyer—'

‘Lily. Lily! Stop for a second. Why didn't you call me? You know I would've been there in a second and not left until they'd let you go. So why? Why didn't you call me?'

‘Oh, Andy, it doesn't matter anymore. It really wasn't that bad, I swear. I can't believe how stupid I was, and trust me, I'm over getting that drunk. It's just not worth it.'

‘Why? Why didn't you call? I was home all night.'

‘It's not important, really. I didn't call because I figured you were either working or really, really tired, and I didn't want to bother you. Especially on a Friday night.'

I thought back to what I'd been doing the night before and the only thing that stuck clearly in my mind was watching
Dirty Dancing
on TNT for exactly the sixty-eighth time in my life. And out of all those times, that had been the first that I'd fallen asleep before Johnny announced, ‘No one puts Baby in the corner,' and proceeded to, quite literally, lift her off her feet, until Dr Houseman admits that he knows Johnny wasn't the one who got Penny in trouble, and claps him on the back and kisses Baby, who has recently reclaimed the name Frances. I considered the whole scene a defining factor in my identity.

‘Working? You thought I was working? And what does too tired have to do with it when you need help? Lil, I don't get it.'

‘Look, Andy, let's drop it, OK? You work constantly. Day and night, and lots of times on weekends. And when you're not working, you're complaining about work. Not that I don't understand, because I know how tough your job is, and I know you work for a lunatic. But I wasn't going to be the one to interrupt a Friday night when you might actually be relaxing or hanging out with Alex. I mean, he says he never sees you, and I didn't want to take that away from him. If I'd really needed you, I would've called, and I know you would've come running. But I swear, it wasn't so bad. Please, can we forget it? I'm exhausted and I really need a shower and my own bed.'

I was so stunned I couldn't speak, but Lily took my silence for acquiescence.

‘You there?' she asked after nearly thirty seconds, during which I was desperately trying to find the words to apologize or explain or something. ‘Listen, I just got home. I need sleep. Can I call you later?'

‘Um, uh, sure,' I managed. ‘Lil, I'm so sorry. If I've ever given you the impression that you can't—'

‘Andy, don't. Nothing's wrong – I'm fine, we're fine. Let's just talk later.'

‘OK. Sleep well. Call me if I can do anything …'

‘Will do. Oh, how's the new place, by the way?'

‘It's great, Lil, it really is. You did a fantastic job with it. It's better than I'd ever imagined. We're going to love it here.' My voice sounded empty to my own ears, and it was obvious I was talking just for the sake of it, keeping her on the phone to make sure our friendship hadn't changed in some inexplicable but permanent way.

‘Great. I'm so glad you like it. Hopefully Tongue Ring Boy will like it, too,' she joked, although that, too, sounded hollow.

We hung up and I stood in the living room, staring at the phone until my mom walked in to announce that they were going to take Alex and me out for lunch.

‘What's wrong, Andy? And where's Lily? I figured she'd need some help with her stuff, too, but we're not going to stick around much after three. Is she on her way?'

‘No, she's, uh, she got sick last night. It's been coming on for a few days, I guess, so she probably won't move in until tomorrow. That was just her on the phone.'

‘Well, you're sure she's all right? Do you think we should go over there? I always feel so badly for that girl – no real parents, just that cranky old bat of a grandmother.' She put her hand on my shoulder, as if to drive home the pain. ‘She's lucky she's got you for a friend. Otherwise she'd be all alone in the world.'

My voice caught in my throat, but after a few seconds I managed a few words. ‘Yeah, I guess so. But she's fine, she really is. Just going to sleep it off. Let's get sandwiches, OK? The doorman said there's a great deli four blocks down.'

‘Miranda Priestly's office,' I answered in my now usual bored tone that I hoped conveyed my misery to whoever was daring to interrupt my e-mailing time.

‘Hi, is that Em-Em-Em-Emily?' asked a lisping, stuttering voice on the other end.

‘No, it's Andrea. I'm Miranda's new assistant,' I said, even though I'd already introduced myself to a thousand curious callers.

‘Ah, Miranda's new assistant,' the strange female voice roared. ‘Aren't you the luckiest girl in the w-w-w-world! How are you finding your tenure with supreme evil thus far?'

I perked up. This was new. In all the days I'd worked at
Runway
, I'd never met a single person who dared to badmouth Miranda so boldly. Was she serious? Could she be baiting me?

‘Um, well, working at
Runway
has been a really great learning experience,' I heard myself stutter. ‘It's a job a million girls would die for, of course.' Did I just say that?