“I don’t know, you only spent the last fiveyears pining over him.”
“You make me sound like some lovesick puppy,Emily.”
“Weren’t you?”
“I was more confused than anything. I thoughtit was my fault he left. That I did something. It was allinsecurity,” I try to play it off.
“So you didn’t miss him at all?” she asksskeptically.
I glare at her, “Yes, I missed himterribly.”
“So what happened? Where the hell did hego?”
I tell Emily everything, about Ryan’sbrother, about the drug charge, about the stolen identity, myfather convicting him. She’s quiet throughout the whole story,listening intently, her eyes wide.
“Holy shit. I still can’t believe he did timefor his brother. Doesn’t he deserve the most selfless man aliveaward?”
I scoff, really not believing it myself.
“So, what? Are you guys like backtogether?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug.It sure feelslike we are. “Honestly, I don’t know anything. There’s a wholebunch of stuff we need to work out.”
“So when are you going to see him again?”Emily asks as the waitress refills my wine glass.
“Wednesday. I have to go look at apartments.My father so fittingly set up an appointment with a realtor in thecity for me.”
“How convenient.”
I shrug blamelessly.
“You know he’s going to shit a canary if hefinds out about you two. Ryan’s a stripper for Christ's sake.”
Yeah, that’s definitely one of theissues we have to address.
“He won’t. I’ll make sure of it. As long as Ikeep my grades up and don’t do anything to mar his pretty imagehe’ll leave me alone. I’ll be lucky if I see him on Christmas.”
“Okay,” Emily sighs. “You know if you needanything I’m here.”
“I do.”
“And I better goddamn see you onChristmas.”
I smile.
I spent the wholemorning looking at apartments on the West Side, and I definitelylike this one the best. It’s a brownstone right near campus, alltrendy and Carrie Bradshawy. My father should approve; the perfectplace for the perfect judge’s perfect daughter.
The realtor says the current tenant’s leaseis up in July and the place will be ready August 1st, which isperfect since orientation at Columbia starts August 20th.
I look down at my watch, a rose gold MichaelKors. It’s 3:15 and I’m wiped. Who knew apartment hunting would beso taxing? Ryan and I decided to meet at Bryant Park again and thenmake a decision on what to do from there.
I’m pacing the walkway waiting for him. Thebirds are chirping and the waterfall is echoing over the crowd ofbustling people. Ryan is late. We’ve been texting nonstop the lasttwo days, but right now that doesn’t mean a thing if he doesn’tshow. I keep hearing the last words he said Sunday night.
It will take an act of God to keep meaway.
I keep pacing. This is agony.
Suddenly a pair of arms wrap around me frombehind. “You need to chill out,” he says, his voice sultry.