Sarah Mlynowski - Monkey Business

What if she’s lying? What if she’s only saying this to get him back?

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have told him I was pregnant as soon as I missed my first period. We might have been married by now.

We just had sex two nights ago. Maybe the sperm is still inside of me. Maybe I can get pregnant, too. Then what would he do?

I hiccup loudly. And then laugh at myself. I think I’ve lost my mind, as well as my boyfriend. Suddenly the fact that I’m not going to fail Corporate Strategy doesn’t even matter to me. Who cares? Nothing matters to me if I can’t have Russ. I feel fat and ugly and bloated, and I want to pull out my hair and skin. I’m worthless. Empty. Nothing. I don’t want to go to New York. I don’t want to work at O’Donnel. I don’t want to come back to LWBS if Russ isn’t going to be here. I want to go home.

There’s a knock at the door. Maybe it’s Russ. Maybe he’s changed his mind. I jump out of the bed and open the door.

It’s just Layla. “How’d it go?” she asks.

I feel confused and disoriented. And why is she talking to me now? “How did what go?” The end of my romantic life?

“The committee? Hello?”

I sigh and crawl back under the covers. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

She sits on the foot of the bed. “Of course it does. What did they say?”

“They said that everything’s fine. Russ admitted that he copied from me, and now he’s going to fail the course. But he doesn’t care, since he’s dropping out to go home to his pregnant ex. And it doesn’t matter to me, because I’m going home, too. I hate this place. I hate the cold, I hate the bathrooms, and I want a bath.”

“You’re being absurd,” she says. “You’re not dropping out. You’re doing well here.”

“You don’t understand. Do you know how much money I owe? I’m in debt for fifteen grand. And I’m going to go into debt for another thirty if I come back next year.”

She’s shaking her head at me, not listening. “You’ll earn money at O’Donnel. Did you say pregnant ex?”

“Yes, Sharon’s pregnant. She gets a baby and I get to pay for the entire sublet now that Russ isn’t coming. What I should do is go home and start looking for a full-time job.” Maybe my dad will take me back. Maybe Wayne…

She waves her hands over my bed. “You’re talking crazy. You’re not worthless just because Russ dumped you.”

I pull the covers over my face. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I want to go home.”

“Stop being such a wimp!” she yells. “We need to talk about this. It’s crazy.”

I drop the blanket. “If you don’t mind, I just found out that my boyfriend has impregnated another woman and as a result is now dumping me. Do you think you could insult someone else? I don’t feel like talking to you at the moment. Why don’t you go bother Jamie?”

She arches her back. “I am never speaking to him again. I can’t be involved with someone who would behave the way he did.”

I don’t know what it is Jamie did, but I’m sure it’s something minuscule. She’s got to get that poker out of her ass. Jamie is a great guy, and if she can’t see that, she’s an idiot. Not going for him back in September was probably the biggest mistake of my life. He would never cheat on his girlfriend. He would have worshiped me. If Layla doesn’t want him, maybe I still have a chance. He liked me first. “I think you have unrealistic expectations about men.”

She snorts. “I have unrealistic expectations? Hello? You’re the one who expects men to save you. You lap up whatever a man says and would screw over any woman for your man. Karma-wise, you had this Sharon-pregnancy thing coming.”

How dare she talk to me like that! “Since I’m such a horrible skank, can you get out of my room?”

She slams the door behind her. I wonder if I’m mad at her or if I’m so pathetic that I just want to be mad at her so I can seduce Jamie.

Friday, April 16, 3:30 p.m.

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Twenty-seven today. Twenty-seven sounds a lot older than twenty-six, doesn’t it? Twenty-six sounds young and blond and fun, whereas twenty-seven sounds serious and possibly brunette.

I’m at the library in my usual spot, studying Finance. Alone. I don’t know where Jamie and Kimmy are studying these days, but I haven’t seen them here. I hope they’re not letting their work slip. All I can say is that I’m thrilled I’m not in their group.

Tense, tense, tense.

My friends from home all sent me e-cards. No one here knows it’s my birthday. My bank balance increased by a thousand bucks. Which means my mother or father transferred money into my account. That’s what they do every year. I think it’s on automatic-transfer so they don’t have to remember to do it.

I didn’t expect the people here to know, so I can’t say I’m disappointed. I’ve never mentioned the exact date. Besides I’m not talking to them. Jamie was a mistake and it’s best to sever the ties now. And Kimmy hasn’t apologized since kicking me out of her room.

My desk creaks as I shuffle in my chair.

So no party this year. Not a big deal. I’ll celebrate in a few weeks with my real friends, when I’m home. Training for the job starts May 3 and runs for a week, and then I work for three months. The back of my head hurts when I think about three whole months of redundancy reducing, overhead eliminating, cost cutting, economies of scale…I wish I had a job that made an actual difference in people’s lives. Like Ronnie. Or Danielle Grand. I wonder if they love their jobs. If they’re happy. Was I happy at the bank? Will I be happy? Are my parents happy?

Does it matter?

Monday, April 19, 7:30 p.m.

“We done?” Nick asks. We’re sitting morosely in his room, all of us thrilled we’ve finally finished our last group assignment. All of us wishing we were someplace else. “I gotta jet,” he continues. “Hot date.”

“Hot date?” I wonder aloud. “With who?”

“A large-breasted art major. She lives in the Sphere residence. Cheers.”

“You mean the syphilis residence?” Lauren asks. “I heard that place is an STD hotbed. I have a date, too.”

“With who?” I ask.

“Cindy.” She gives us a big smile.

“Who’s Cindy?” Nick asks.

Lauren stands up and collects her things. “Swiley,” she answers, and then dances out of the room before we can comment.

Oh. My. God. “Our IC teacher?” I say.

“Let me know if she’s all that I dreamed,” Nick calls, sticking his head into the hallway. Lauren and Nick both got jobs in Boston this summer so they’re sharing an apartment. I hope they’ll get it over with and sleep together already. I guess there’s always next year…

Jamie stands up and stretches his arms above his head. The bottom of his shirt pulls up, exposing his pale stomach. “And on that note, ladies and gentleman, our first-year work group comes to an end. Not with a bang but a whimper.”

I laugh. I think he makes me laugh about once every two minutes. “I hope the whimper is not because of genital pain?” I banter.

“Syphilis makes you crazy if left untreated,” Jamie says.

“I guess that means you already have it,” Nick says.

Russ isn’t here. He hasn’t come to any of our last group meetings. He finished his parts for all the assignments and then e-mailed them to Jamie. He’s probably too busy reading the Dummies Guide to Being a Daddy. But it’s better this way, his staying away. This way, I don’t have to talk to him.

I find myself staring at Jamie. He’s such a fun guy, really he is. And he’s a lot better-looking than I used to think. I wonder what my year would have been like if I’d fallen for him instead. A million times better. No tactics, no sneaking around, just bliss.