10
C ome on,” Joe said, breathing vigorously through his nose as he ran along the pedestrian path that circled Prospect Park, “ push !”
Behind him, MC clenched her sweaty hands into fists as a steep rise came into view. The park was full of hills, but this was by far the biggest. Her heart sank so low it was basically in her stomach. One after another, runners passed her by, sleek and strong in their performance wear.
“When... do we... stop,” she said.
“At the top!”
“I’ll... meet you.” She put her hands on her hips and slowed down, wobbling along like someone had just taken a baseball bat to her legs.
She was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt that said GREEN HILLS BULLS on the front and NO ONE GRABS THESE HORNS on the back.
She’d found it in the guest room closet just before leaving Conrad and Gabby’s the night before.
She watched Joe pump his muscular calves, taking the hill like he took every challenge, without pause and at full sprint.
He’d had a deeply awkward phase in middle school—it was the reason they’d become friends in the first place—that lingered, subtly, into high school.
But as soon as he’d escaped their hometown, the boy who’d once huddled with MC on the bus and doodled comics in which the worst kids they knew suffered public bouts of explosive diarrhea had blossomed.
His confidence still startled her sometimes.
She couldn’t imagine pushing past doubt, choosing to ignore it.
At the summit, she wiped her face inside her sweatshirt. Joe squirted water over his head, pulled her in for a selfie, then checked his smartwatch.
“Okay,” he said, stretching his quads. “Now I feel like we can talk.”
“About what?”
“The draft.”
“You mean my notes.” She grimaced. “And here I was thinking you just wanted an elite running partner on this beautiful Sunday morning.”
He posted the selfie and put his phone away. “I canceled the meeting tomorrow.”
Her mouth fell open. “What? Why?”
“Because we’re not ready.”
“But—”
“I shouldn’t have rushed this. It’s too big.”
Her heart swelled with hope. “Like, too big to pull off?”
“No. Too big to rush.”
Her heart deflated.
“I can tell you think there’s no story. But your notes are legit brimming with potential.”
“What kind of potential are they legit brimming with, exactly?”
“It’s hard to explain. But something deeper than an exposé. Juicier.”
“You got that from what? My observation that Nora’s still really unfriendly?”
He started doing jumping jacks. “I believe the term you used was misanthropic . Which is interesting, because she writes mushy rom-coms. Or at least, she’s written one mushy rom-com.
Everyone’s going to want to know the reason behind that contradiction.
And I think, if you went back home again, you could figure it out. ”
“Hang on, that wasn’t the agreement.”
“I’m not saying do it right this second—”
“And I’m saying I can’t do it, period.”
He finally stood still, breathing hard. “I realize this is a huge ask.”
“It’s not about the size of the ask.” She ran her hands through her hair, trying not to think about how she and Conrad had left things. “It’s that I don’t want to put the spotlight on someone who is clearly trying to avoid it at all costs.”
“Then why’d she write a book where she barely changed all our names, including her own?”
“I don’t know.”
“Makes you wonder if some part of her wants to be figured out.”
“It’s none of our business either way.”
“Maybe it’s none of mine, but it’s absolutely some of yours.”
“Even if there had been something between us—something I missed at the time—Nora has moved on. It’s been almost a decade. She’s dating Jen Turner! We should leave it in the past.”
“But it’s not in the past. It’s right here in the present, in this wildly successful book that I think you owe it to yourself to actually read.”
“I can’t. I just can’t.”
Joe put his hands on his hips and toed the ground. “I wish I could let this go.”
“I get it.” MC winced. “Your job.”
He cleared his throat.
“Is there something else?”
“Huh?”
“Did Seth say anything to you? When you rescheduled?”
“Well... kind of.”
“What?”
“Ugh, I shouldn’t—I mean, if my bullshit isn’t your problem, then this really isn’t your problem.”
“But?”
“I’m freaking out,” he said quietly, “because Seth said he’d be remiss not to mention that, as far as a potential restructuring goes, there’s been talk with the investors about collapsing arts and culture into entertainment. As in, Sheena and Jerome would become redundant too.”
MC’s stomach twisted. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Do Sheena and Jerome know that?”
“I’m not sure. They might suspect. And obviously it’s not your responsibility to fix any of this,” he added in a rush.
“It’s my responsibility.” He sat on a rock.
“I just have no idea what the hell I’m going to do.
” He blew out a breath, shoulders slumping.
“It was already so goddamn hard to get this job in the first place.”
“It’s not over yet. And even if it is, you’ll find something else.”
“Something salaried?” When he looked up at her, his eyes were dark. “I’m glad that you’ve made a good situation for yourself with the freelancing. I really am. But my parents didn’t spare me from student loans like yours did.”
She blushed, feeling a wave of guilt and gratitude that her mom’s professorship had come with family tuition benefits.
“But like I said,” he muttered, “none of that is your problem. I’m just stressing. About trying to save my own ass, and now the asses of the honorable, wonderful, very hardworking Sheena and Jerome.”
She nodded, nibbling her lip. “Maybe there’s some way to make this work.”
His back straightened a little. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know yet. But maybe we can still deliver a big story without completely screwing over Nora.”
“Okay, I like the sound of that.”
“And you said we have time, right?”
“For now.”
She rubbed her forehead. “I have a busy six weeks ahead with my other clients. But maybe I tell Conrad”—even saying his name made her clench her teeth—“that I want to come home for my birthday weekend next month.”
“MC.” Joe bolted to his feet and put his hands on her shoulders. “You would be my fucking hero.”
She shrugged. “You’ve been mine.”
“You don’t owe me for that.”
“I know. But I’d hate to see you give up because I wasn’t there to kick your butt.”
He smiled. “Speaking of kicking butt, are you ready for our next lap?”
“Uh, no?”
He jogged off. “Torture can be fun!” he said, starting to run backward. “You should try it!”
She followed in a huff. “I’m good!”
“I think you’d like it if you gave it a chance!”
“I’d rather not!”
He stopped. She stopped.
They panted for a moment, facing each other. Then he jammed his hand into her sweatpants pocket, snatched her phone, and ran away with it, cackling as he went.
“Come back!” she said.
But he was too fast. The phone wasn’t up at his ear, but she could see he was furiously typing as his legs ate the pavement.
“What are you doing?” she moaned.
When she finally caught him at the entrance to Grand Army Plaza, he was smiling.
She yanked the phone away from him and looked down at the message thread between her and Nora.
They’d exchanged numbers after Pooh-gate so Nora could send her some of the photos Lois had taken that day: Nora hand-in-paw with the demon that’d devoured Christopher Robin’s childhood and puked it back up over a dozen crying toddlers. Now the latest message was from MC:
Is it weird that I kind of had fun yesterday?
“Okay,” she said, “that was unnecessary.”
Joe grinned. “Don’t forget out of line.”
Then her phone buzzed.
Are you coming out to me as a furry?
Joe huffed a laugh over her shoulder.
“Will you get away from me?” she said.
“Am I not allowed to make a stressful situation the slightest bit fun?”
“I never should’ve told you about Pooh . ”
“It was critical info. What are you going to say back?”
He reached for her phone again, and she swatted his hand away.
As they were lightly slap fighting, MC caught sight of a familiar face across the plaza.
“Oh god,” she whispered, pulling Joe back toward the bushes at the park entrance.
“What?” He tried to follow her gaze. “Is that—”
“Lisa.”
MC’s latest ex was sitting on one of the stone benches.
Her strawberry blond hair was shimmering in the sun, a loose green scarf around her neck.
Beside her was a well-built guy with a halo of reddish curls.
For a few moments, as Joe and MC watched them from between the branches, all they did was laugh.
Then Lisa put a hand on his neck and kissed him.
He kissed her back, trailing a hand over her chest. In broad daylight.
Which she seemed to like.
“Ew,” said Joe.
MC couldn’t speak. She knew Lisa had been ostensibly done with her for a good month before officially calling it off, but she’d expected a longer mourning period.
“You okay?” Joe said.
She couldn’t believe she was sniffling. She didn’t do this in public. She didn’t do this, period. Except she’d done it in front of Nora just yesterday. And now she was doing it again with Joe.
What was happening to her?
“MC. Look at me.”
“Can’t,” she said softly, even though he was the only person who’d ever seen her break down before.
He held her close. “You are better than that.”
“I’m really not.”
“Yes, you are.” He rubbed her back. “You’re smart and funny and loyal.”
“I’m a joke.”
“Hardly.”
“Then why does it always feel like the world is laughing at me?” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Especially Nora freaking Pike.”
“For what it’s worth, I think her book shows that she also really admired you.
” Joe leaned back, looking her in the eye.
“One thing she definitely got right is that you’ve always been scared of offending anyone, even when they’re slinging shit at you.
” He squeezed her shoulders. “Maybe you should sling a little back.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Okay, fine. Keep being a good person or whatever. I’m just saying, you’re always doing everything you can to make sure no one experiences any discomfort, while the things that you want are put aside.”
“I don’t have that many wants.”
“That’s what you’ve told yourself.”
“Thanks for the TED Talk.”
“See, isn’t it nice to be a little sarcastic now and then?”
“Enough of Life Coach Joe.”
“Think about what I’m saying.” He took off running again. “You could at least try being a little more bold!”
This time, though it took all her willpower, she didn’t follow.