Monkey Business

jamie’s rise to stardom

4:50 p.m.

There’s a knock on my door, which I ignore, as at present I’m in the middle of negotiating a movie deal over the phone.

“We can’t pay much,” says the VP Business Development of Light Productions. “Only a stipend really, but we’d love to have you onboard.”

They want to pay me a thousand-dollar stipend for the four months, but that’s one thousand dollars more then I was expecting. It’s a viable offer, an offer I’m taking. I’m going to use my business skills at a production company. And I’m going to major in Media and Entertainment next year.

Cool.

Another knock. Louder. I kick the door in an attempt to make whoever it is go away. I hope it’s not Layla. I’d hate to piss her off so early in the relationship.

I smile to myself. I can’t wait to be in NY. I get to spend the entire summer with Layla. I can’t get her out of my mind. I’m flying far and beyond cloud nine. Cloud nineteen. I can’t believe the woman of my dreams likes me. Everything happened so quickly and it’s so wonderful.

So wonderful-and scary. She’s somehow got it into her head that I’m her perfect match. I have to admit her tendency to idealize men and then knock them off their pedestals in one swift kick makes me nervous. Kimmy says that one of the reasons she broke up with Kermit was because his penis was too big. While that’s good news for my little friend, I didn’t know that was possible. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t slept with her yet. Not because she’ll think my penis is too small and dump me (although that is a concern), but because I want to make sure she’s really in love with me first. Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy putting her off Sunday night. But I want to take things slowly. I’m already so crazy about her-if we start having sex and then she dumps me, I’ll spiral into another depression.

“When can we expect you?” asks the movie man.

“My final exam is Thursday, April twenty-ninth. I can start work the following Monday.” A piece of paper ripped out of a notebook is shoved under my door. What is their problem? I pick up the paper and read: Huge problem. Come find me. Layla

I hurry off the phone and open the door. Kimmy is pacing up and down the hallway, her face streaked with tears. Frowning beside her, hands on hips, is Layla.

“What happened?” I ask, immediately hugging Kimmy.

Layla sighs. “She’s been accused of plagiarism.”

Come again?

Kimmy wipes her eyes. “Come into my room.” We follow her inside and she closes the door behind her. “Russ borrowed one of my papers,” she says, sobbing. “Martin accused us of copying. We have to go to the disciplinary committee.”

Russ copied from her? The guy who’s been reading Forbes since the womb is copying from the woman who didn’t know what OB was? “I’m sure Russ has admitted he copied from you, right?”

She hesitates. “He hasn’t.”

“What do you mean he hasn’t?” Layla shrieks.

“He went back to his room to think. What should I do?”

Layla snorts. “Go tell Martin the truth before you ruin your life. You could get expelled. You have to turn him in.”

“I can’t turn him in,” she wails. “I can’t turn in my boyfriend.”

I rub small circles on her back. “I think Layla has a point, Kimmy. You’re jeopardizing your future here.”

She shakes me away. “Don’t you see? If I tell the truth I could still lose everything. The code of ethics says you’re not supposed to show anyone your work, so I’m still responsible for what happened. So what’s the difference?”

“Kimmy,” I say, “showing someone your work is not the same as abetting in a crime. What are you more afraid of losing? School or Russ?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Are you crazy?” Layla yells, eyes flashing. “You didn’t work your ass off all year just to throw it all away to save some guy. Are you not pissed? He used you. He’s been using you from day one. We’re marching right to Martin’s office to tell him what happened.”

Kimmy’s hands start to shake. “You don’t understand. He didn’t use me. He loves me. We’re in love. This MBA thing…I didn’t even want to be here. I came because of Wayne. I’m not losing Russ.”

“Have you thought about what would happen to you if you take the rap for this?” Layla shouts. “Do you think you’re still going to have a job at O’Donnel?”

“I’m trying to be realistic,” Kimmy says.

“What the hell does that mean?” Layla asks.

“It means that this MBA doesn’t mean as much to me as it does to him. In a few years, I’ll want to start a family-”

“So what? Why does a family mean you can’t have a career?”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” Kimmy says. “You live in a dream world. You can’t have everything. You can’t have kids and a husband and a company.”

Sometimes I’m amazed at how differently women view the world, from us and from each other.

“Of course you can,” Layla retorts. “Lots of women do.”

“Like who? Your mother? How many times has she called you since you moved here? Did you even see her when you were in town?”

Layla’s face flushes as if she’s been slapped. “She works. Hard.”

“I don’t want my kids to grow up with a Brazilian accent is all I’m saying.”

“Do what you want,” Layla says, and storms out.

Silence.

“Jamie, what do you think?” Kimmy asks.

“I think I’ll support whatever decision you make,” I say, “but I don’t think Russ deserves you.”

“Thank you.” She starts to cry again. “I wish it was you I was in love with.”

I rub circles on her back until she stops crying.