Sunset Park by Santino Hassell Page A

everything. I’d tried to keep up, but plastic money wasn’t as good as green paper when you didn’t have the confidence that the massive debt would be paid off. These days I even experienced buyer’s remorse when charging sushi and shoes—my only real luxuries.
    “Karen, come help me,” I pleaded. “I’ll never finish by the weekend.”
    “I can’t. I took Ms. Price up on the offer to teach that online summer school course, and now I have a million things to grade.”
    “I told you it was going to be horrible.” It wasn’t exactly true. Michael had warned me it would be horrible, and I’d repeated his advice. “Ugh. Maybe I should pay movers.”
    “That’s stupid. Just ask Raymond to come help you.”
    That just showed how little people understood my soon-to-be roommate. Asking him to drive into Manhattan would take unmentionable amounts of begging, bribing, and guilt-tripping that I did not have the time or patience to conduct. Suggesting that he take the train would only result in incredulous scoffs and sass for days. His sass was cute, but not when I was floundering in overpriced Cole Haan shoes without the matching boxes, and damning evidence from way too many trips to Bloomingdale’s. When had I had the time to buy all of this crap?
    “That,” I said with precision, “is a terrible idea.”
    “Why? I bet he’d do it if he knew how stressed out you were.”
    “That’s because you don’t know Raymond.”
    “I know everything from his favorite food to his blood type, David. You talk about him more than I talk about my kid.”
    I was tempted to nail her with a dirty look, but she’d notice the flush that had undoubtedly risen to my face. Keeping my back to the screen, I picked up a box of Ziploc bags and wondered if I could fit my size nines inside. It would be better than chucking them all in a large cardboard box. “Since when did I tell you his blood type?”
    “I don’t remember how it came up. I think it was during the blood drive. You said he was a universal donor.”
    This time I did glare back at her grinning face. “You made it sound like I was just rambling on about him!”
    “Ohh, I’m sorry.” She adopted a look of fake innocence. “You didn’t start rambling on about him until after that came up!”
    I flipped her off, and she cracked up, clapping her hands and getting a real riot out of making fun of my crush on Raymond. The more I tried to convince people that I wasn’t into him, the less they believed me. The only person who didn’t think it was hilarious was Michael, and that was because he’d rather jump off the Brooklyn Bridge than find out I was attracted to his little brother. Overprotective bastard.
    “This has been a real hoot,” I said, “but I’m going to go have a panic attack in private.”
    “Sorry, sorry. It’s cute, that’s all.” Karen was still chuckling but managed to look semiapologetic. “Anyway, if you’re still getting nothing done by the end of the week, we can get Oli or Charles to come. Okay?”
    “’Kay.”
    I waved at her and ended the call. It was a nice offer, but waiting until Friday to get shit done, when I’d scheduled the moving van for Saturday, might result in an actual panic attack. In times like these, I despaired not having reliable friends or a boyfriend. I’d met plenty of people over the past three years, but I didn’t have the kind of bond with any of them that would lead to them dropping everything in order to lend a hand. It would only result in a lot of “I wish you’d told me earlier” and “I would but I’m meeting so-and-so,” because that seemed to be how friendship worked for on-the-go twentysomethings in New York. Or at least the ones I’d managed to befriend.
    Swallowing my sense of bitter abandonment, I grabbed my phone. Bribing Raymond was a lot better than being shot down by my supposed besties.
     
    David: What are you doing?
     
    Raymond responded almost instantly. It was a delightful new