Dear Tea,

Thank you for being my friend. I’m so sorry that your new boyfriend is my old boyfriend. Both of us could’ve avoided a lot of heartache and disappointment and anxiety if we had just revealed his name. Tristan. It’s such a small word. And yet, it’s impact on our lives, is quite grand. Isn’t it? Hard to believe, really.

Well, I’m writing you this thank you letter to let you know that I’m letting go. That kiss Tristan and I had shared two weeks ago might have meant something, but I’m not going to let it. I’m putting him behind me. Once and for all. You can have him. He’s a great guy, but he’s no longer my guy. I know that. I’m trying to move on. No, not trying. Like that cliché line goes, there is no trying. There’s just doing and not doing. So I’m moving on. From this moment on.

So, to you, Tea, I say thank you. Thank you for being there. Thank you for finally making me realize that this is over. And that I’m going to be okay.

Love,

Alice

I put my pen down. I should be writing my Great Gatsby paper. It’s due in three days and it doesn’t even have a thesis statement. But this thank you card was more important. I’ve been thinking about Tea and Tristan ever since I saw them together yesterday. Something about writing this thank you card finally made me feel like everything was going to be all right.

“Okay, girlie.” Juliet walks in with two Nordstrom bags. “Enough moping. Does he love me? Will he love me? What does that kiss mean? Oh no, now he has a girlfriend. Can he love me again?”

It’s hard to keep secrets in the dorm, and it’s especially hard to keep secrets from Juliet. I can’t help but smile.

“I know. I’m pathetic, right?” I say.

“Maybe just a little. But you’re not a lost cause.”

“Good. I like the sound of that.”

“Are you ready then? To prove yourself?”

“Yeah, sure.” I shrug.

Juliet doesn’t look convinced. “Dylan’s birthday’s this weekend and he’s throwing a big party at his father’s place on Central Park.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t think he was allowed there.”

Juliet stares at me, dumbfounded. “I tell you about our roommate’s birthday party and all you can do is focus on the location and whether or not he’s allowed there. You’re quite a difficult girl to impress, Alice.” I shrug and smile. “Anyway, all I know is that he’s having the party there and I got you a dress that I think will be perfect.”

“You got me a dress? Why?”

“Because I’m tired of you moping around the room in those same pajama pants all the time. Wearing the same jeans to class. Honestly, I looked in your closet while you were out and you are in serious need of some grownup clothes. Now, this party’s going to be chic. Central Park and all. Not your typical college party. And you need a change in your life. And this dress is just the thing.”

She’s right of course. Juliet’s always right. I often admire how simple everything is for her. She doesn’t overthink things. She doesn’t worry about things she can’t change. She simply moves on with her life. She also has a theory that with the right clothes, you can get anything in life. So if you want some particular job, you just need to get the right clothes. The perfect costume. She’s a born actress and she lives her craft.

I look at the dress that she has picked out for me. If I had gone to the store with her, I would’ve picked out a simple black dress. It’s not that I’m a huge fan of Coco Chanel or the quintessential black dress, it’s just that the black cocktail dress is about all I know about dressing up for cocktail parties in the city. But Juliet has surprised me again. The dress she holds up before me is bright blue with a cinched waist and a v-neck. The skirt bows out in a circle.

My initial reaction is no way. This is so not me.

“This color will go great with your skin and hair,” she says. I decide to trust her instincts before I reject it completely.

Juliet waits for me to pull the dress over my head. I ask her to turn around and she reluctantly agrees.

“We’re roommates! If we can’t see each other naked, or almost naked, who can? Besides, it’s me who should be shy about my body.” She goes on her usual rant. I’ve learned to ignore it. Just the way she has learned to accept my need to change in private.

Juliet zips me up while I stand in front of our door mirror. The dress falls a little above my knees. The circle skirt falls in waves around my hips.

“Don’t you just love how small your waist looks in this? Obviously it’s tiny, but this dress really accentuates it.”

“Yes, I do,” I hate to admit. Is this really the same ridiculous dress that was lying on my bed a few minutes ago? “And it makes my boobs look amazing!”

“So? Where’s my thank you?” Juliet stands back and waits for my gratitude.

“Thank you so much. This dress is beautiful,” I say and throw my arms around her shoulders. “I really love it.”

“Okay, then,” she smiles.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“No, seriously. I want to pay you for it. It’s from Nordstrom.”

“No, seriously, you owe me nothing,” she says with utmost seriousness. “I will not accept any money. But you can pay me in another way,” she says with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Anything.”

“You promise to do it?” she asks, folding her arms across her chest. “You have to promise before I tell you.”

“Okay, I promise,” I say nonchalantly even though I’m already regretting the decision.

“You have to promise me to kiss someone at this party. A guy. A cute guy.”

I roll my eyes.

“Hey, you promised!” she says, pointing at me.

“Okay, okay. I’ll try,” I say. I look at myself in the mirror. I do look beautiful. While I’m straightening out the dress, I catch the tag hanging from the bottom. Suddenly, I realize the meaning of sticker price shock.

Holy crap! I’ve never owned a dress for that much before.

“Juliet, this is too expensive. $450 is too much. You have to let me pay you for it.”

“You are paying for it. You’re going to kiss someone at this party. That’s going to be a lot of work for you, so I’m going to get my money’s worth.”

“And how’s that exactly?”

Julie leans closer to me. “Alice, darling, I’d pay three times that much if that would mean that I would no longer have a roommate who mopes around our room thinking about her ex all day long.”

“I don’t do that!” I say, but I know that’s not true. I had just hoped that I’d been dealing with this Tristan thing in such a way that no one has noticed. But I guess not.

“You do too. But hopefully not after this weekend,” she says. And then her voice gets really serious. “Alice, I just want to show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

“And what’s that exactly?”

“Life as a hot and single 18-year-old in the coolest city in the world. This can be the best year of your life if you play your cards right.”

I think about that for a moment. Juliet’s right. Of course she’s right. I’ve been letting this whole situation with Tristan prevent me from really going out there and live my best life. And I deserve that. At least, according to Oprah Magazine. I know that on an intellectual level. But it’s about time that I actually knew that on an instinctual level. I do deserve to be happy. I deserve to have a good time. I deserve to have fun.

“That sounds good,” I say. I sit back on my bed and watch Juliet change into her dress. This weekend is going to be my do over. My new beginning.