“Here, put yourdigits in.”
The screen was severely cracked, but Ashley managed to punch her number directly into the keypad withno mistakes.
“I guess I will hear from yousoon then?”
“You bet.”
2
Ashley
The following morning, Ashley poured herself a cup of coffee and walked up onto the roof of her fifth-floor apartment. Ashley and Madison had been lucky enough to find a pre-war loft space to rent that had the added benefit of a rooftop deck with views across the city. The loft had become available for the first time in a decade when a friend recommended it to Ashley. Twenty-four hours later, it was theirs. The bills had been over budget at first; they both worked every hour imaginable to pay the rent, but that was a price they were willing to pay to live in New York City. The two-bed apartment had the authenticity and charm they had been looking for, with stunning iron columns and exposed brick. It had been ano-brainer.
After six months, they both agreed it was time to find a lodger. The open-plan living area was extensive enough to create a third bedroom. It wouldn’t be as private, but they agreed that for the right person, it would be appealing. Emily immediately made her interest known—having recently broken up with her girlfriend of two years, she was looking for somewhere to live. The timing had beenimpeccable.
Ashley raised the cup to her lips, admiring the view as she took a sip of her freshly ground coffee—Italian Roast. A new blend that was recommended by a customer; she wasn’t disappointed. The gentle summer breeze rippled through her t-shirt. The plants on the rooftop emitted a ruffle as the wind swept through their leaves. She made a mental note to water the peace lily; the leaves had drooped and it required some attention. It had been Madison’s idea to purchase plants. Three years later, it was only Ashley that attempted to keep them alive, but they added some colour to an otherwise dull rooftop.
Ashley would undergo the same routine every single day. Wake up, make a coffee of choice, sit on the roof. She fast became accustomed to living in the city and she had no plans to retreat to her mundane life inthe suburbs.
Ashley was twenty-five years old, with blonde hair and brown eyes. She was of slim build and above average height at 5’7”, her features—ordinary. She would often describe herself as plain. Her features were not unusual; she didn’t stand out from the crowd, unlike her roommates. She aspired to be a writer—like almost everyone in NYC—but she was different, at least that’s what she told herself. The passion she possessed from a young age was even more formidable now than it had ever been. There was a deep-seated determination within her to one day become a writer for one of the city’s top magazines—even if that meant grinding away in a bar for ten years. She would do whatever it took to prove that it wasn’t just apipe dream.
Ashley pulled her phone from her pocket as she took a seat on the bench, placing her cup on the large coffee-stained wooden table. Flashbacks of all three of them trying to get the table onto the roof came flooding back. The sheer entertainment value made it an unforgettable memory. The table was severely battered and bruised by the time it reached the rooftop, but despite the turbulent New York weather, it had stayed faithful for almostthree years.
There was still no message from Megan. It was almost lunchtime and the suspense she felt unkindly woke her up four hours earlier than her planned alarm. Emily and Madison would be dead to the world until at least three in the afternoon. Ashley placed the phone on the table and recalled the first night she’d seen her.
Mystery girl, now known as Megan, had arrived at Midtown 101 almost an hour after Ashley. The group entered extravagantly, bought two trays of shots, and congregated directly in front of Ashley and Madison. It was hard not to notice them, or her. The infectious laugh, the picture-perfect smile and flawless skin. The beauty she possessed was unusual in bars like 101; it was often locals, regulars or people looking to blow off some steam after a long day at work. The friends that surrounded her were at ease. They said hello to the occasional passer-by and ordered drinks without hesitation, but Megan seemed out of place. Potentially more suited to the Upper West Side of Manhattan.That must be where she’s from, Ashleyconsidered.
Megan didn’t only catch the eye of Ashleythat night.
“Have you seen the girl in the white shirt?” Madison asked.
“I noticed her as soon as they walked in. I don’t recognise her, do you?”
“No, she must be from out of town. If a girl like that came in here often, I would have seen her.”
Madison frequented Midtown 101 regularly, so Ashley trusted her observations. Emily arrived shortly after and just in time to solvethe dilemma.
“She has glanced over a few times. She’s definitely looking in my direction.” Madison proclaimed. Confident and pleased that she appealed to the mystery girl.
“You’re dreaming. You wish she was looking at you!” Ashleychallenged.
The two would often fight over the attention of women. They had been the same ever since Madison came out as gay two years earlier, but Ashley regularly had theupper hand.
“Emily, who is shelooking at?”
Ashley turned towards Emily, with one hand typing away on her laptop and the other cradling a Moscow Mule. Emily often found herself in the middle of the bickering. Friday nights were always spent dealing with the accumulation of emails she had tried to avoid all week long. Emily glanced towards the group at the bar, her focus on the girl and the way her eyes flickered between her friends and the table she occupied every thirty seconds. The conclusion was swift.
“She is 100% looking at Ashley. Now, can I finish these emails?”
Emily buried her head in her laptop once again, determined to enjoy her friends’ company at some point that evening. Ashley smirked as Madison slouched back in her chair, visibly unhappy withthe verdict.
“Better luck next time, Mads.” Ashley grinned fromear to ear.
The jiving continued, but it was all in good spirit, as Ashley reminded Madison—if your best friend can’t knock you down a peg or two, then who can? Three gay women living together came with its challenges. Female drama holding the number one spot on that list.
Madison pushed her bruised ego aside, allowing for the conversation to continue. They discussed, in-depth, their workdays and their weekend plans, but Ashley couldn’t shake the presence of the mystery girlall evening.
“I’m out. Do you guys want another drink?” Ashley gestured towards the empty glass in her hand where the last remnants of her third beer lingered.
