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1
CARLEIGH
In the midst of April, Trinity up and leaves mid-degree on a free-spirited whim to go on a year-long backpacking trip in Southeast Asia, leaving me with a two-bedroom condo in Hell’s Kitchen.It’s nice, but not cheap enough for me to live in by myself, even with a little of my parents support.So, I put up on social media my need for a new roommate.Alarming place to do that, I know, but my profile is private so only my friends will see my plea.I refuse to ask my parents for a handout.It’s been almost a year since my last request, and I’d like to keep it that way.
My father is a well-known pathologist and professor at Harvard.He and my mother have always pressed the virtues of hard work, earning my place, and paying my own way.They’ve helped, of course - it’s a nicer apartment than a twenty-four-year-old should have - but it’s only feasible if I have a roommate.My parents make it their mission to make sure my sister and I don’t end up spoiled rich kids, despite our unavoidable privilege.As a logical person, it’s better for me in every way that I acknowledge it and go my own way, as Stevie Nicks would say, but there are times when I’m on the subway home from my part-time serving job, only to have to write a paper into the wee hours once I get there, that I wish they were a little looser.
I pride myself on not having to run to my parents for money and work to provide for my place.It’s not much, but it’s mine.I’ve had a few years to spruce the place up a bit, and Trinity never appreciated my effort.An apartment shouldn’t be a prison, and when I moved in, all it had was white walls, and that’s the first thing I altered.
Colors remind us of enjoyment, and when I’m stuck at home, I need something that is soothing.The bedrooms are a soft blue, and the living room is a beige.Instead of painting it the same color as the bedrooms, I went with using furniture to accent the color scheme.
After a week with no offers, I panic.Rent is outstanding and I’m still three-hundred bucks short.I try to pick up a couple of extra shifts at work, but none are vacant.What am I going to do?There has to be someone out there needing a place to live.
When I first met Trinity, we got along efficiently.Same as now, I couldn’t be picky about who moved in, and so I went with the first woman that applied.We were attending the same college, and that would keep her busy with her thesis instead of causing drama.Even with her, it was a transition.
I’m a spotless and organized person and like things a certain way, and she never criticized, happy to follow my lead.I have a right to be agitated about Trinity deserting me, since we agreed to live together throughout all of grad school, not three-quarters of it.It’s the sort of thing I like the idea of doing if I were a different person, someone without twenty-four years of deep-seated anxiety, perfectionism, and high expectations drilled into me.The world needs people like Trinity to follow their hearts just as much as it needs people like me to rigidly follow their five-year plans.
Some people make fun of me because I like to make lists.There is something so gratifying with being able to mark something off when it’s complete.My compulsion started when I was nine- years-old, and I got my first planner.In the back, there were three to five lined pages for whatever, and I used them to write my goals.Silly, right?A nine-year-old with goals?Trinity used to get mad about how organized I am, but it’s because she couldn’t keep to a schedule to save her life.Grad school is savage and the only way anyone graduates is by staying in their lane and keeping to a very strict schedule.My parents have pushed me to become someone who changes the world for the better, gives back to the community, and makes them proud.No way I’m going to throw all my hard work away just to go backpacking.Absurd.
I couldn’t even tell you the last time I went on a vacation.Possibly, before I graduated from high school.Since then, I have put all my focus on school and getting my Master’s degree.I’m the girl everyone makes fun of for having a stick up their butt.School has always been my priority and, with me being on the home stretch, there is no time for distractions.Just a couple more months and I will have achieved one of my parents’ goals for me.
Still, the new roommate thing is troublesome.I don’t want to teach somebody new my methods.The rent on the apartment is reasonable for the location, a thousand bucks a month, and it’s in the middle of the city.This makes getting places much easier.Why hasn’t anyone expressed interest?
My phone buzzes on the coffee table behind my laptop, and I check it.
Evan: Let’s meet on campus for coffee
He’s a college friend, and it’ll be nice to get a minor break from my thesis.We haven’t hung out in a couple months because the last semester of grad school is killer, and it’s important to keep our eyes on the prize.
Me: On my way
I close my laptop, then dash to the bedroom to put on some jean shorts and a t-shirt.My mother would have a conniption fit if I went anywhere public in sweats.Sometimes, I wish I didn’t have rich parents, because then I could wear whatever I want, and not have to be in the spotlight.
I stride out of the front doors of the building, and the hustle and bustle of New York is vast.Cars are honking and people are sauntering up and down the sidewalk.The noise is overwhelming if you aren’t used to it.I head out toward the campus, which is only a couple of blocks.
Students are studying on the grass, books splayed out on a blanket, some are throwing a football around, or flirting with their boyfriends.See, I don’t have time for all this nonsense.Graduating is the most important thing to me, and how they find the time to be so social is beyond me.
I stroll inside the quad and see Evan relaxing at a table.The coffee shop is almost full when I arrive.There is someone at every table, but to their merit, it is the best coffee on campus.Caffeine is the only legal thing that keeps students awake to study their hearts out.Many of them have headphones on, which is normal.It’s not possible to sit in here and get any work done, because it’s so loud.
“Hey, you!”Evan says, standing up to give me a hug.“It’s been way too long.”
I nod and take a seat across from him.
My parents love Evan because he comes from a semi-wealthy family himself.I have tried to explain that we are just friends, but they have a one-track mind.It’s important to them that I marry the right person, and to them it’s money.I understand they don’t want me or my future children to struggle, but marriage is about love.I’m not going to just marry someone because they have money.
“Sucks about Trinity.Or does it?Were you guys friends?I couldn’t ever tell.”
Things are complicated.I’ve never wanted to live with friends, because most people get annoyed with how particular I am about certain things.No dishes left in the sink.No dirty clothes left on the bathroom floor.I like to keep a spotless environment.
“Friends or not.She abandoned me without covering her rent for this month.So now, I have to shell out almost a grand somehow.”
I take a sip of my Caramel Macchiato and roll my eyes, miffed at Trinity still for putting me in this predicament.She could have waited until the end of the month, but maybe she didn’t want to pay her half of the rent.Trip money, I suppose.
“Just bite the bullet and ask your parents.It’s not like they are going to say no.How would that look if you get evicted?”He tilts his head and shrugs his shoulders.
The difference between Evan and myself is that he isn’t afraid to ask his parents for money.In fact, he gets a weekly allowance deposited into his account.Mine, however, have clarified that I don’t get access to my trust fund until after I finish grad school and get married.
“Well, my friend Bryson is interested.Doesn’t mind a roommate.You remember him?”
