shocked； but Freak Boy grinned lecherously and ogled her breasts。
“Baby； you tellin’ me you don’t remember who I am？” he asked； his
thick Australian accent being less adorable with every passing
second。 “You sure knew who I was last night。” He walked over to her
and looked like he was about to sit down on the bed； but Alex had
already grabbed his arm and pulled him upright。
“Out。 Now。 Or I’m going to have to carry you myself；” he manded；
looking tough and very cute and not a little proud of himself。
Freak Boy threw up his hands and made clucking noises。 “I’m outta
here。 Call me sometime； Lily。 You were great last night。” He moved
quickly through the bedroom door toward the living room with Alex in
pursuit。 “Man； she sure as hell is a feisty one；” I heard him say to
Alex right before the front door slammed shut； but it didn’t appear
that Lily had heard。 She had pulled on a T…shirt and managed to pull
herself out of bed。
“Lily； who the hell was that？ He was the biggest jerk I’ve ever met；
not to mention absolutelydisgusting 。”
She shook her head slowly and appeared to be concentrating very
hard； trying to remember where he’d entered her life。 “Disgusting。
You’re right； he is absolutely disgusting； and I have no idea what
happened。 I remember you leaving last night and talking to some
really nice guy in a suit—we were doing shots of Jaeger； for some
reason—and that’s it。”
“Lily； just imagine how drunk you had to be to agree to not only
have sex with someone who looks like that； but to bring him back to
our apartment！” I thought I was pointing out the obvious； but her
eyes widened into surprised realization。
“You think I had sex with him？” she asked softly； refusing to
acknowledge what seemed certain。
Alex’s words from a few months before came back to me： Lily did
drink more than was normal—all the signs were there。 She was missing
classes regularly； had gotten arrested； and now had dragged Home the
scariest…looking mutant of a guy I’d ever laid eyes on。 I also
remembered the message one of her professors had left on our machine
right after finals； something to the effect that while Lily’s final
paper had been stellar； she’d missed too many classes and handed
things in too late to give her the “A” she deserved。 I decided to
tread carefully。 “Lil； sweetie； I don’t think the problem is the
guy。 I think it’s the drinking that’s causing it。”
She had begun brushing her hair； and it wasn’t until now that I
realized it was already six o’clock on a Friday night and she was
just getting out of bed。 She wasn’t protesting； so I continued。
“It’s not that I have any issue with drinking；” I said； trying to
keep the conversation relatively peaceful。 “Clearly； I’m not
antidrinking。 I just wonder if it’s gotten a little bit out of
control lately； you know？ Has everything been OK at school？”
She opened her mouth to say something； but Alex popped his head in
the door and handed me my shrieking Cell Phone。 “It’s her；” he said
and left again。Argghhh！ The woman had a very special gift for
wrecking my life。
“Sorry；” I said to Lily； looking at the phone warily as the display
screamed MP CELL over and over again。 “It usually only takes a
second for her to humiliate or reprimand me； so hold that thought。”
Lily set down her brush and watched me answer。
“Miran—” Again； I’d almost answered the line as though it were her
own。 “This is Andrea；” I corrected； bracing for the barrage。
“Andrea； you know I expect you there at six…thirty tonight； do you
not？” she barked into the phone without a greeting or identification
of any sort。
“Oh； um； you had said seven o’clock earlier。 I still need to—”
“I said six…thirty before and I’m saying it again
now。Siiiiix…thiiiiirty 。 Get it？” Click。 She’d hung up。 I looked at
my watch。 6：05P 。M。 This was a problem。
“She wants me there in twenty…five minutes；” I stated out loud to no
one in particular。
Lily looked relieved for the distraction。 “Let’s get you moving
then； OK？”
“We’re midconversation here； and this is important。 What were you
going to say before？” The words were right； but it was clear to both
of us that my mind was already a million miles away。 I’d already
decided there was no time to shower； as I now had fifteen minutes to
zip myself into black…tie and get into a car。
“Seriously； Andy； you’ve got to move。 Go get ready—we’ll do this
later。”
And once again I was left with no choice but to move quickly； heart
racing； climbing into my gown and running a brush through my hair
and trying to match some of the names with the pictures of the
evening’s guests that Emily had helpfully printed out earlier。 Lily
watched the whole thing unwind with mild amusement； but I knew she
was worrying about the incident with Freak Boy； and I felt terrible
I couldn’t deal with it right then。 Alex was on his phone with his
little brother； trying to convince him that he really was too young
to go to a movie at nine o’clock and that their mother wasn’t cruel
in forbidding him to do so。
I kissed him on the cheek as he whistled and told me that he’d
probably meet some people for dinner but to call him later if I
wanted to meet up； and ran as best one can in stilts back to the
living room； where Lily was holding a gorgeous piece of black silk
fabric。 I looked at her questioningly。
“A wrap； for your big night；” she sang； shaking it out like a
bedsheet。 “I want my Andy to look just as sophisticated as all the
big…money Carolina rednecks she’ll be serving tonight like a mon
waitress。 My grandmother bought it for me years ago to wear to
Eric’s wedding。 I can’t decide if it’s gorgeous or hideous； but it’s
black…tie enough and it’s Chanel； so it should do。”
I hugged her。 “Just promise if Miranda kills me for saying the wrong
thing that you’ll burn this dress and make sure I’m buried in my
Brown sweatpants。 Promise me！” She grabbed the mascara wand I was
waving about and started working on me。
“You look great； Andy； really you do。 Never thought I’d see you in
an Oscar gown going to one of Miranda Priestly’s parties； but； hey；
you look the part。 Now go。”
She handed me the dangling； obnoxiously bright Judith Leiber bag and
held the door as I walked into the hallway。 “Have fun！”
The car was waiting outside my building and John—who was shaping up
to be a first…class pervert—whistled as the driver held the door
open for me。
“Knock ’em dead； hottie；” he called after me with an exaggerated
wink。 “See ya late…night。” He had no idea where I was going； of
course； but it was forting that he thought I’d at least be ing
Home。Maybe it won’t be that bad； I thought as I settled into the
cushy backseat of the Town Car。 But then my dress slid up over my
knees and the back of my legs touched the ice…cold leather seats；
and I lurched forward。Or； maybe； it will suck just as much as I
think it will？
The driver jumped out and ran around to open the door for me； but I
was standing on the curb by the time he’d made it around。 I’d been
to the Met once before； on a day trip to New York with my mom and
Jill to see some of the tourist sights。 I didn’t remember any of the
actual exhibits we saw that day—only how much my new shoes had hurt
by the time we got there—but I recalled the never…ending white
staircase out front and the feeling that I could climb those stairs
forever。
The stairs stood where I remembered them but looked different in the
haze of dusk。 Still accustomed to the short； miserable days of
winter； I thought it seemed strange that the sky was just darkening
and it was already six…thirty。 That night the stairs looked
positively regal。 They were prettier than the Spanish Steps or the
ones outside the library at Columbia； or even the awe…inspiring
spread at the Capitol building in D。C。 It wasn’t until I’d made it
to about the tenth one of those white beauties that I began to
loathe them。 What cruel； cruel sadist would make a woman in a
skintight； floor…length gown and spiked heels climb such a hill of
hell？ Since I couldn’t very well hate the architect or even the
museum official who’d missioned him； I was forced to hate
Miranda； who could usually be blamed for directly or indirectly
causing all the misery and bad will in my life。
The top felt like a mile away； and I flashed back to the spinning
classes I used to take when I still had time to go to the gym。 Some
Nazi instructor would sit atop her little bike and bark out orders
in perfect military staccato： “Pump； pump； and breathe； breathe！
Climb； people； climb that hill。 You’re almost at the top！ Don’t lose
it now！ Climb for your life！” I closed my eyes and tried to envision
pedaling instead； the wind in my hair； running over the instructor；
but climbing； still climbing。 Oh； anything to forget the fiery pain
that shot from little toe to heel to back again。 Ten more steps；
that was all that was left； just ten more； oh； god； was that wetness
in my shoes blood？ Would I have to walk before Miranda in a sweaty
Oscar gown and bloody feet？ Please； oh please； say that I was almost
there and 。 。 。 there！ The top。 The feeling of victory was no less
than that of a world…class sprinter who’d just won her first gold
medal。 I inhaled mightily； clenched my fingers to fight off the urge
for a victory cigarette； and reapplied my Fudgsicle Lipsmackers。 It
was time to be a lady。
The guard opened the door for me； bowed slightly； and smiled。 He
probably thought I was a guest。
“Hi； miss； you must be Andrea。 Ilana said to have a seat right over
there； and she’ll be out in a minute。” He turned away and spoke
discreetly into a microphone on his sleeve and nodded when he heard
a response through his earpiece。 “Yes； right over there； miss。
She’ll be here as soon as she can。”
I looked around the enormous entryway but didn’t feel like going
through the dress…adjustment hassle of actually sitting。 Besides；
when would I ever again have the chance to be in the Metropolitan
Museum of Art； after hours； with apparently no one else there？ The
ticket booths were empty and the ground…level galleries dark； but
the sense of history； of culture； was awesome。 The silence itself
was deafening。
After nearly fifteen minutes of peering around； being careful not to
wander too far from the aspiring Secret Service