Chapter 11 #2
“Well, I know you went to NYU with Anne,” Cricket replied, counting off the facts on her fingers.
James shot Anne a conspiratorial look then.
Apparently, he and Cricket had discussed this before.
“And I know you sold your own company recently and moved back to the city. But where were you in between?”
“Argentina, mostly,” he answered. His voice was so deep, it was audible below the music. “Though I was traveling around a lot over the last couple of years.”
“Argentina,” James repeated wistfully.
Next to him, Ellis seemed intrigued, too. “What were you doing there?”
“I worked to integrate a sustainable farming system into local communities around Buenos Aires. It was based off this hydroponics idea I had in college.”
He even built the prototype in his basement to help his mother grow herbs and microgreens, and named it Bertha, Anne wanted to add.
She didn’t, though.
Meanwhile, Ellis looked impressed. Across from him, Cricket looked confused. “What’s hydroponics?”
“Essentially, it’s growing plants without soil by using a water-based solution packed with nutrients,” Freddie replied.
“I’ve never been to Argentina, but I’ve always wanted to go,” Ellis said.
James gasped. “We should go!”
“You should,” Freddie said, nodding. “I’m a big proponent of travel. It helps you figure out who you are and what you want.”
And become everything you promised you never wanted to be, too, she thought.
He didn’t owe her anything. He could do whatever he wanted with his life.
That’s what the rational side of her brain said, anyway.
But in her chest, the frustration and disappointment couldn’t let her forget how he used to rail against conformity, how he swore over and over again that he would never put on a suit or show up to a nine-to-five job.
She suddenly wanted to shed her meticulous exterior just to remind him, to let everyone know exactly what she thought of this new version of Freddie Wentworth.
Instead, she just took a deep sip of her soda water and started looking for the bartender again.
Cricket leaned into Freddie’s side. “And did you figure out what you want?”
Freddie smiled again. “Well, I got to watch my dreams become a reality on a scale I never thought possible, so I think that’s pretty close.”
You’re welcome, Anne thought. Yes, it was petty—he still didn’t know she broke up with him so he wouldn’t lose that opportunity to begin with—but after eight years and a blocked number, she was allowed a moment of petty.
Cricket exchanged a blatant look with James, and they both smiled.
“Okay, why don’t we give Freddie a break,” Ellis interrupted, giving his sister a critical glare like he knew exactly what she was up to.
“Fine,” James said, and exhaled a long sigh. “Cricks, tell everyone about this fabulous costume. How did you get that body paint all over you?”
There was another coy smile on her lips as she responded, her body angled to favor Freddie’s. Anne forced a smile, trying to listen as her friend launched into the detailed history of her silver body glitter, and how she brought her character into the modern world.
Other actors came by and there was more small talk about the play, and Anne did her best to listen and be present. But she couldn’t stop counting down the minutes until she could politely excuse herself and go home.
“Another round?” James announced a half hour later, waving at the bartender.
“Absolutely not,” Ellis said, pulling James’s arm down. “Some of us have to get up early for work. And you had that Pilates class you wanted to try tomorrow. Remember?”
“Oh, right,” James acquiesced with a loud sigh. “Pilates.”
“I should head home, too,” Anne said, already reaching for her coat and bag. She was surprised when she heard Freddie’s voice.
“Me, too,” he said.
“But the theater never sleeps!” Cricket exclaimed with a giggle, holding her arms out wide and almost spilling her drink over two castmates standing nearby.
“Yeah!” James exclaimed, looking around like he expected the rest of the bar to join in his enthusiasm.
Freddie chuckled to himself. “But unfortunately, I need to. I have a work meeting tomorrow.”
James’s expression fell. “Well, that’s fucking boring.”
“Okay. Time to go,” Ellis said, taking the drink from his husband’s hand and putting it on the bar.
The cold night air felt good against Anne’s flushed cheeks as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. She inhaled deeply, letting the others continue their conversation.
You’re almost there, she thought to herself. Just remember: In less than twenty minutes, you’ll be in bed watching season three of Gilmore Girls.
“I’ll get us a couple of cars,” Freddie said, pulling his phone from his coat pocket.
“No way.” Cricket scoffed, looping her arm with his as she turned toward the Avenue. “We’re New Yorkers! We should take the subway! It isn’t that far, come on!”
She was already marching forward with Freddie in tow before anyone could argue.
“Oh God, please tell me we’re not going to Penn Station. Last time I was there I had night terrors for a week,” James moaned, falling in step behind them.
“We’re not going to Penn Station,” Ellis assured him. Then he turned to Anne. “You’re coming, right?”
Anne nodded and tried to smile, ignoring the effort it took to keep it there.
Freddie was walking ahead with Cricket still by his side.
She was chatting away, one arm flailing out animatedly while the other stayed looped through his.
Anne tried to avoid looking, instead letting her gaze travel up the dark buildings, across the street to where a party was pouring out of a small bar.
But always, from the corner of her eye, she was aware of them.
It was like a physical manifestation of the past eight years—no matter what she did to ignore the memory of Freddie Wentworth, no matter how much she stayed busy to keep her mind from finding its way back to him, he was still there.
A tall, looming figure on the periphery, present no matter what she might tell herself.
The subway entrance appeared a block later.
One by one, they descended the concrete staircase, with Cricket taking two steps at a time while attempting not to let go of Freddie’s arm as she skipped.
The subway vestibule was quiet, with just one turnstile and a MetroCard machine off to the side.
They missed the E train by seconds, the low hum of the engine trailing off into the distance.
The track was now empty as the five of them stopped outside the gate.
“Come on, let’s go!” Cricket pulled Freddie toward the turnstile, her large wings shaking and leaving a trail of glitter behind.
“I just need to get my phone out,” Freddie said, fishing for it in his pocket.
Cricket rolled her eyes. “Why?”
Anne already had her app open, ready to flash on the turnstile. “Because you need to pay the fare, Cricket.”
“James, where’s my app?” Ellis asked, poking his phone’s screen. “It was right here.”
James glared down at it, then poked it, too.
“Pay? There’s no one even here!” Cricket waved around the vestibule to prove her point. “Come on. I do this all the time!”
Then she placed her hands on the steel sides of the gate and attempted to vault over it.
“Wait, don’t—” Freddie bolted toward her, but not before her foot caught mid-jump, her fairy wings tangled in the turnstile, and she landed on her back on the subway platform.
Right in the path of an approaching police officer.