Chapter 2
1674 Words
2
Trihn trudged up the stairs to Lydia’s second-floor apartment. She knocked on the door and waited impatiently, still on edge about what had just transpired.
How come I could flirt with half a dozen guys in other countries when I was modeling but not have one reasonable conversation with a hot guy I can actually date?
It was so frustrating. This was why she didn’t bother with this s**t. Maybe the language barrier was better. Kissing had made so much more sense to her in other countries where the guys all spoke half-coherent broken English.
The door popped open, and Lydia’s glowing face smiled back at her. “Trihn!” she cried. “There you are! I didn’t know if you would still be coming over before dance!”
“Yeah, sorry. I got held up,” Trihn said dismissively.
No point in telling her what had happened. Lydia never would have let Preston get away without a promise of a future meeting.
“Well, get your ass in here. I just had an epiphany about the living room for when you move in!” Lydia said.
Trihn laughed as she followed her sister. “When did you die your hair blonde?”
Lydia shrugged. “Two days ago?”
Of course.
Lydia would change her hair color with her mood, just like how she’d change the guy she was seeing.
Even though they were sisters, they couldn’t be more different. Trihn and Lydia had acquired different marks from their parents’ mixed ancestry—Vietnamese, Brazilian, and a melting pot of European roots. Trihn was tall, lean, and exotic with high cheekbones, green eyes that slanted upward at the corners just like her mother’s, and her dark-as-night natural hair. Lydia looked more like their father. She was of medium height with dark brown eyes with gold rings and hair that she always parted down the middle. She was energetic, drew all manner of people to her like no one else Trihn had ever met, and had a proclivity for eccentricity.
Trihn usually just called her a hippie to get on her nerves, but today, with the new blonde look, long maroon skirt, and crocheted cream crop, she looked every inch the hippie. Trihn had always been more of a rocker, like how she looked now in the shortest high-waist cutoff jeans she owned, a studded sheer black top, and sky-high designer heels. Yet they were sisters, and for that reason alone, their differences never mattered.
“What epiphany did you have?” Trihn asked. She tossed her dance bag down on the couch and moved her shoulder. It was still hurting. She immediately started doing stretches to try to work out the pain.
“Okay, so I was thinking that once you move in, we could collage this entire wall,” Lydia said, spreading her arms wide. “We could put up pictures from my photography classes and your fashion projects. Oh, modeling shots! We could even do a dance shoot. I’m sure I have my old pointe shoes around here somewhere.”
Lydia disappeared into her room to look for her toe shoes from when she had been a part of the NYC Dance House as well. Trihn just shook her head and followed after her. She plopped down on Lydia’s bed that basically touched the ground.
“Here they are!”
“Ly,” Trihn said, “we have three months to figure out how we’re going to decorate. Shouldn’t we just wait until Tasha moves out? Then, I could move in what I have, and we could see what we actually need.”
Lydia’s shoulders dropped dramatically as she sighed. She tossed the shoes onto her cluttered desk. “Please, Trihn, try to have less enthusiasm about the fact that we’re going to have the coolest apartment in all of Manhattan in a few months.”
“I’m excited. It’s just not happening yet. We both have other things to worry about until then.”
“What do I have to worry about? I have the summer off!” Lydia proclaimed.
“Aren’t you interning?”
Lydia brushed her hair over one shoulder and smiled forlornly. “Right, I’m interning at a fashion magazine in the photography department. It’s just what I’ve always wanted to do…to follow in Mom and Dad’s footsteps.”
That was how their parents had met in the first place. Their mother had been the head of acquisitions for the fashion magazine where their father had sold his work to at the time. Their mom had pulled a lot of strings to get Lydia this opportunity. Of course, she was being blasé about it and would rather spend the summer working on her art.
“It’s a great opportunity.”
“Whatever. Tell me about you! Are you excited about the Senior Showcase?” Lydia asked. Her voice filled with longing. “I so wish I were still in the company.”
“Well, I’ll never outshine you. That’s for sure. We both know that you were always better at ballet than I was.”
“But you love it more,” Lydia conceded.
Trihn smiled brightly. She had always loved dance in all forms. The company focused so much energy on ballet, but she was excited that her dance for Senior Showcase was going to be a contemporary piece from her favorite choreographer at the studio. She would leave it to her best friend, Renée, to perform the beautiful ballet solo.
“I just can’t believe that it will all be over in two weeks,” Trihn said.
“Then, you can spend the whole summer with me.”
“Aren’t you going to be swamped?”
Lydia was such a dreamer. Trihn swore that if Lydia didn’t have to work, she would spend the rest of her life daydreaming, writing poetry, growing a garden, and drinking.
“Oh, right. Work.” She stuck her tongue out and made a face. “Well, that just means you have to find a hot guy to spend all your time with.”
Lydia winked at her, and Trihn’s mind immediately went to Preston. It wasn’t as if he were the only guy in the city she would be interested in. He was just the most relevant at the current moment.
I do have his number. Maybe I should try to reach out to him…
“Maybe, Lydia.”
“Maybe, maybe. Always maybe, baby. You need to get out more and date,” Lydia said. She plopped down onto the bed next to Trihn and started braiding her hair without asking if it was all right.
“Speaking of, did you want to go to a party this weekend after I get out of rehearsal?”
“Oh! A party? What kind of party?” Lydia asked.
“Just some of my friends getting together.”
“High school friends?” She sounded dismayed.
“Don’t you know me better than that?”
“Model party?” she guessed.
“Only the best. Some people I know from London who I worked with last summer are going to be in town.”
“Any hot guys?”
“What part of models did you not understand?” Trihn joked.
Not that models were Trihn’s type. They were extremely good-looking, but so many of them were narcissistic to a fault. She couldn’t handle a guy who took longer to get ready and had more hair products than her.
“Okay, I’m in. Can’t pass up on hot models. Though…you’re the one who shouldn’t be passing up on hot models. You’re too serious, and you need to loosen up.”
Trihn rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m going to get my bag and get ready for dance.”
“You can ignore me all you like, but you need a good lay,” Lydia called loudly as Trihn walked out of the room.
She retreated to the shared bathroom and pulled on her tights and leotard under her ensemble. She forced all of her hair up into a high ponytail on top of her head and then removed her box of bobby pins. It took fifty of them to get all her hair up into a proper ballet bun. There was just too much hair for it to cooperate with fewer pins. She sprayed back the wisps around her face. After retouching her blush and mascara, she exited the bathroom and returned to Lydia, who continued to rant about how Trihn was too serious.
“Give it a rest, Ly!” Trihn said in exasperation. “I’m not you. I’m never going to be you.”
“I’m not saying that you have to be!” Lydia cried. “I’m just saying that there’s nothing wrong with casual sex.”
Trihn shook her head. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Feel free to f**k around with whoever you want.”
“I will.”
“Good.” Trihn hauled her bag onto her shoulder and slid into her heels. “I’m going to dance.”
“Hey, don’t be upset,” Lydia said, following her to the front door.
“I’m not upset.”
“You’re clearly upset. I’m your sister. I should know.”
Trihn let out a deep breath. Lydia could push her buttons like no one else. Trihn loved her sister to pieces, but the subject was already a sore one at the moment. It hadn’t helped anything that Lydia was pushing.
“Just say you’ll think about finding a nice guy to occupy your time this summer. You deserve it for all your hard work,” Lydia said.
“I’m not dating someone or f*****g someone as a prize for my accomplishments,” Trihn said in frustration. “I want to date someone because I like him, because I could fall in love with him. I want to be with someone who I could marry.”
Lydia’s eyes widened. “You’re eighteen years old, Trihn. Life isn’t that serious. You don’t have to marry anyone for a while, and if you keep talking like that, you’re going to give me gray hair.”
Trihn rolled her eyes. “You’re insane.”
“Probably, but creativity stems from madness. Or does madness stem from creativity?” she pondered. “Anyway, go to dance. Don’t worry about finding someone to marry or whatever horrible thoughts are floating through your head. You’re young and beautiful, and you should have so much more fun before you get married. This weekend, we’ll find someone fun for you!”
“Okay, Lydia,” Trihn said. If she didn’t relent, Lydia would continue with her relentless diatribe.
What she didn’t say was that she’d had plenty of that kind of fun during the past two years.
Lydia thought she was older and wiser; thus, she would be the one to corrupt her younger sister. But the truth was, with all the modeling events Trihn had been to, it had been almost too easy to be casual.
Now that she wasn’t modeling, she was intent on finding something more meaningful.
- Writer
