Part 1

Isabel wrinkled her nose at the intoxicating smell of burned coffee beans one last time before opening the door glass door. After hours of smelling her wrist in search of Victoria’s Secret Dream perfume she was free. At the worst time, one of the coffee machines had a meltdown and unleashed its stinky wrath into the air. Fresh, summer air spilled in and Isabel got out of the building completely before leaning against the transparent walls of Starbucks and sitting down the concrete ground of Manhattan. The skyscrapers assorted with puffed up cotton-ballish clouds did a good job of keeping the sun out of her eyes while she took in the fast traffic and bustling city. The temperature was perfect, the streets were almost bare and the construction from across the street stopped for the afternoon giving partial and much needed silence. After five gulps of air, Isabel looked down at her green pants, top and white apron with a sigh. Even with the help of the city’s shadows it took a while before she could look up openly. The lighting in the Starbucks was either too bright or dark thanks to the new eco friendly light bulbs. They were like the ones at camp, where, she thought smiling, those were good memories. Isabel stood up and felt around her pockets for her card. Eventually she felt a square, floppy material in her left pant pocket and started her walk down 5th Ave. She strolled down the street with her sneakers softly hitting against the pavement. It was oddly quiet and some what deserted… Isabel shook her head and reminded herself that everyone was on vacation. The economy had finally gotten up off its ass and Obama was reelected, it was year 2012. A refreshingly cool breeze pushed back Isabel’s curls as she put on her favorite Duane Read sunglasses. Isabel stopped for a while to see part of Lady Gaga’s newest music video. It was shown on one of the new 3D TV’s outside of a technology store. Isabel continued to walk and decided to go into a small pizza shop on the corner. Lazily, she took out her M-Card out of her pocket. As Isabel walked into the store and a swarm of aromas that consisted of melted cheese and baked bread filled her nostrils. Isabel touched a small button on her M- Card and a small number appeared at the end of the screen: $15. 69. Isabel glanced at the menu that was hung over the kitchen that was put right in the middle of the small pizzeria. The tables around it were all colored like the Italian Flag and a dark skinned man working at the oven looked over at Isabel.
“Hello ma’am, can we help you wit sometin?” he said in a Jamaican accent as he walked over the cash register. Isabel smiled, he reminded her of her old doorman. She ordered a slice and waited, it wasn’t the Jamaican accent that had jiggled the lock to her memory it was his face. The man’s face was worn, but kind and he wore a similar wedding ring that, Steve, always wore. Everyday until she turned ten (or eleven) she would go down stairs to the lobby and wait for the school bus with Steve where they would talk. For a while they played word games, Steve would chose a letter and they had to make up words with beginning with that letter. Letters… numbers… Ugh… Isabel breathed out of her nose with exaggeration. If it weren’t for numbers she wouldn’t be here, math, she almost failed the final exam so her mother got her a job in the city to practice her math. Ever since Starbucks went green, it hasn’t used registers that use electricity since 2011. Sooo… you had to do it in your head, while she was constantly drilled by Maury, a math wiz. Thank GOD he was down with the stomach flu or else Isabel would have never gotten out of there for more than ten minutes.
“To go, or to stay?” Another man said, breaking Isabel out of her daydream.
“To go, please.”
“Yes ma’am, money or card?”
“Card,”
“Slice cost three fifty.”
“Okay, thank you” Isabel took back her card and put it in her green pocket. She smiled at the man a bit shyly and left the pizzeria. Heat beat down against her fresh goose bumps as she headed back. When Isabel finally got back to her summer job a familiar tan skinned, Blink 182 shirt wearing, pierced and green best friend of hers was waiting to pounce… literally. Sophie threw her arms around Isabel and said in a high playful voice that everyone could here;
“POOF!” Isabel caught herself and suffered through the bear hug long enough to crack a smile. It’s what she did the first day of high school and it’s what she will always do. Ignoring the snickers from the group of semi-hot (but sweaty) boys Isabel ate her slice while Sophie immediately smiled a smile too wide for her face. A crazy grin on a girl with three different facial piercing is not a good sign, Isabel thought. Sophie started;
“So, Isabel,” she said in an I-know-it’s-obvious-that-I-did-something-wrong-but-I’m-trying-to-smile-anyway voice. “Ya know how I said I was going to send those videos to an agent that my friend knows?” Isabel’s face didn’t change, the only movements she made was chewing and washing off the mountains of grease on her slice. She listened intently to what Sophie was about to say and hoped she’d tell her soon, the eco-friendly clock collection on the left wall (opposite the utensils and half and half) were four minutes ahead. Sophie’s face didn’t change, “We-l-l it turns out that she didn’t know him personally, and she found his e-mail off the internet.” Isabel stopped chewing and looked at Sophie with big worried eyes. Sophie quickly knew that face and was about to apologize but Isabel interrupted her.
“So, wait, did you send it?” Isabel found herself saying in a usually interested tone. It might have been because this didn’t happen everyday to this Queen dwelling fifteen-year-old.
“Uh… yeah… and right after that her sister called me and asked whether or not I did it. I guess that’s what happens when you believe b****y school friends and don’t wait for the nice little sisters to save the day…” Isabel sighed, if she had gotten this new seven years ago she’d be anxiety central but now she had to work and forgive. Besides, so far she hadn’t gotten weird messages so that was good.
“Okay it ain’t your fault but I need to talk it over with you a little more later so that I know the whole situation, kay?” Sophie gave Isabel one of those thank-you-so-much-for-understanding-in-this-crazy-situation looks. After two second on the clock had passed by Sophie was called over to work with two colleagues; Mr. Broom and Mrs. Dust-pan as Isabel treated her next customer to a French Vanilla Latte with two Organic Brownies with real Fudge.