Chapter 11 #2
“Have fun.” His shoulders move slightly in a way that says that’s what I’m here for.
“You too.” I smile and then close the door behindme.
Estella is all the way in Murray Hill, which is an interesting choice, but I’m never in this part of town so it feels like an adventure.
It’s dimly lit and if not for the candlelight directly in front of Caleb’s face, I wouldn’t be able to see him.
But the night feels romantic, and I don’t remember the last time I’ve been on a proper date.
We end up going back to his place after dinner, which is conveniently two blocks down from the restaurant.
While we’re sitting on the couch watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, he reaches his hand under my dress, and pulls my tights down to my knees.
I’m not not enjoying it when he fingers me, but I close my eyes and imagine someone a little taller, whose arms are slightly bigger, and who has a deeper voice.
When we have sex, it’s fine. I can pretty much now check off all the positions I’ve been curious about.
Caleb’s the type of guy who likes to say cock and finishes on my boobs.
While it doesn’t do anything for me, it’s nice being intimate with someone.
A few weeks go by, and Caleb and I continue to see each other. We’re on the subway back to his place after one of our rehearsals when he casually says, “Have you and Adam ever slept together?”
A laugh escapes me, but I realize he’s not joking.
“What? No, of course not.”
“I don’t care if you have,” he says.
“We haven’t, ” I say, a little annoyed that he doesn’t believeme.
“All right,” he says with a shrug.
“Why’re you asking?”
“Just curious.”
I frown at how vague he’s being. “That’s a weird thing to be thinking about.”
“I just find it hard to believe a straight man and woman can live together platonically.”
“Well, I feel like that says a lot about you.” The subway doors open, and I move a little closer to him, allowing people to enter. “You don’t think men and women can be just friends?”
“I think that unless there’s zero attraction to one another, then no. Heterosexual men and women can’t be just friends.”
“So, if you’re slightly attracted to a friend of the opposite sex, you’re telling me that you’re going to end up sleeping with them?” I say loud enough that everyone within our vicinity can definitely hear our conversation. I don’t care.
“No,” he says. “But if I was living with said friend and they were single, then probably.”
“Are you joking?”
“I’m just saying it’s inevitable. If it hasn’t happened with the two of you yet, it most likely will soon,” he says matter-of-factly.
I scrunch my face. “And you’d be okay with that?”
“Sexuality is not linear, June. I also don’t believe in monogamy,” he says. “I just assumed the two of you were already fucking.”
If anyone is wondering, it is possible to break up with someone in eight subway stops.
Even though I’m not emotionally attached to Caleb, I’m still allowed a night in my room to eat my feelings and watch old movies. I hear a knock on the door and ignore it. Another knock.
“Go away,” I call out.
I hear Adam’s voice on the other side of the door. “June.”
“She’s not here.”
“I’m coming in.” Adam opens my door and stops, taking in the sight in front of him. Me with my hair a mess, half-empty cartons of lo mein and kung pao chicken on my bed, and It’s a Wonderful Life on my laptop. “Jesus, what happened?”
“Men.” I glare at him.
“Caleb?” he asks, and I catch his hand slightly folding into a fist. I nod and roll my eyes, hearing his name. “What did he do?”
“Nothing, he’s just a piece of shit. I’m fine,” I say, too embarrassed to bring up our conversation on the subway.
“You don’t look fine,” he says with a wince.
“Thanks.”
He inches closer and slams my laptop shut. “Come on, get up.” He offers me his hand, but I don’t take it. “ June. ”
“No! Leave me and Jimmy Stewart alone!” I throw my blanket over myself. Before I know it, he’s pulling the covers off and reaching around my waist. I start yelping but with little to no effort he throws me over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?!”
“God, you smell,” he says, and carries me down the hall, placing me in the bathroom. “Take a shower, then we’re going out.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I scoff as if he’s not thirteen inches taller and seventy pounds heavier.
“You’ll know when I’m telling you what to do.”
Oh. My mouth opens and I quickly close it. “Fine,” I say. He gives a satisfied smile and then closes the door.
I haven’t a clue where we’re going. It’s not until we reach the Fifth Avenue stop and Adam says we’re getting off that I have a hunch of what’s to come. The December air bites my face when we emerge from the subway stairs and I fist the front of my jacket, moving a little closer to him.
“It’s freezing! Do we have to be outside? I’m sure there were ways you could’ve taken my mind off Caleb at home.” I catch the way it sounds, and Adam huffs out a laugh.
“We’re almost there,” he says.
As we walk through Midtown, I hear the faint sound of Christmas music in the distance. The iconic Radio City Music Hall wears a soft white blanket as snowflakes fall from the sky.
“Wait a minute, are we going to—” Once we turn the corner, it’s clear where Adam’s takingme.
For two years, I’ve begged him to go to Rockefeller Plaza during the holidays with me, but he always said it was too touristy.
Up ahead I see a local’s nightmare, but exactly what one would picture when you say Christmastime in New York City.
The sound of Bing Crosby echoes and the famous seventy-five-foot tree laced with an unbelievable display of lights glows beneath the night sky.
The crowd is unbearable, filled with people holding festive cups of hot drinks and a skating rink smack dab in the middle of the chaos.
Adam’s right: It’s absolutely packed with tourists, but it’s beautiful.
“Adam…” I stand there speechless, feeling a rush of serotonin and pure joy course through my veins. The essence of the city lifts my spirits higher with each passing moment and whatever I was upset about is entirely nonexistent.
“Okay, this is much worse than what I was anticipating,” he says.
“It’s perfect,” I say, and look up at him. “Are we really doing this?”
“Oh, we’re doing this. The whole thing, because I’m never coming back here ever again.”
Adam and I walk around Rockefeller Plaza and then down to the Bryant Park holiday market, which is a few blocks away.
He nods toward a pop-up vendor that’s decked out with garlands and fairy lights.
We find a place in line in between a family of four and a group of teenage girls eating mouthwatering Nutella-filled doughnuts.
As I read the menu above the vendor, drink flavors like chocolate tahini or matcha white chocolate catch my eye.
One girl walks away holding a drink with a pretzel in the shape of a candy cane sticking out of the top.
“Hi, what can I get you?” the girl behind the counter asks.
I lean in. “I’ll have a regular hot chocolate, please.”
“And I’ll have the dark chocolate. Thanks.” Adam passes her a twenty and throws the coins she returns into the tip jar.
To our surprise, we find a bench in the middle of the holiday market and people-watch with our drinks.
“We are literally in the middle of a scene from a Hallmark movie,” I say.
Adam takes a sip of his hot chocolate. “Remind me never to watch a Hallmark movie.”
I bump his knee, and he bumps mine back, but once we make contact he doesn’t move it, and I don’t want himto.
“I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to do this.”
“It’s my fault.” He keeps his eyes on the skaters in the distance. “This is nice, though.”
“You know, when I was a kid, I would see this in the movies and always thought that’s what I’m going to do when I grow up .”
“Sit in the middle of Bryant Park drinking hot chocolate?”
“All of it.” I wave my arms around. “Just being and doing whatever I want…What is it about this city?”
“I know what you mean. It’s like anything is possible,” he says.
“Would you ever leave?” I look at him. We’ve never talked about it before, what the next few years would look like.
“Maybe,” he answers honestly. “It would have to be for a good reason, though. Like what could I get anywhere else that I can’t get here?”
“A house with a yard.”
“Right,” he laughs. “Imagine.”
“You know.” I nudge my thigh against his. “You didn’t have to do all this. I know how much you hate crowds.”
He shrugs. “Are you feeling better?”
“I am, thank you.”
“Good,” he says, and his gaze shifts to our knees, still touching. “I don’t like seeing you sad.”
I look down at my almost empty drink and play with the lid. “He thinks men and women can’t be just friends.”
Adam squints but then nods, understanding whom I’m talking about. “I used to think that too.”
“What changed?” I lift my head up and look at him.
“I met you,” he says, and I don’t know why that doesn’t make me feel better.
My thoughts shift to when I got the news about The Mousetrap.
It almost feels like a foggy dream at this point.
It was the first time I wanted him. “I’ve never had this,” he says, gesturing to what little space is betweenus.
“The ultimate holiday date?”
“Exactly,” he says, smirking. “With anyone else, the night would have to end in a proposal, but with you…I don’t know, there are no expectations, no ulterior motives.”
For the past year and a half I’ve spent almost every day with Adam, and life hasn’t been the same since.
The reminder of our closeness, our bodies molding into each other, sticks to my memory like nicotine, but I try to overcome my withdrawal.
Whatever level of friendship we’ve reached is far too precious to be tainted by that night.
“We’re lucky,” I say.
He nods, and then scans the ice rink with far too many people. “Want to go skating?”
“Yeah.” I smile and down my drink.
“You know, despite being just friends ”—he pulls me up from the bench and we walk over to the skate rental booth—“this is still the best date.”
“Why?”
“Because I know that whatever happens tonight, you’re still coming home with me.” He winks.