Can't Look Away(6)

“Is it?”

“Absolutely. I can’t believe he asked you out. I mean, I can believe it, but still. Danner Lane is, like, hot shit. Cash said they have a record deal. You have to go on the date. You’re gonna go, right?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure, but—”

“Molly.”

“Relax, Nina. I said yes. We’re going out Thursday.”

“Yes! That’s so great. If you guys hit it off, then maybe we can double date. Oh my god, I need to chill. Cash is probably gonna toss me to the curb, like, tomorrow.”

“No, he won’t, Nina. You have to have more confidence.”

“And you have to stop believing that just because you spark with a guy it means he’s dangerous.”

Molly said nothing. She thought of Darby, of Cameron. She knew Nina wasn’t wrong.

“I’d better go.” Nina sighed. “I’m literally closed off in Cash’s bathroom, he probably thinks I’m pooping or something. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” Molly laughed, hooking a right onto Withers Street, her apartment finally in sight. “You’d better go cash in. Love you, Neens.”

“Good one, Moll. Love you, too.”

Upstairs in their third-floor apartment, Liz was cooking a Thai curry that made the whole kitchen smell like coconut and turmeric.

“Yum.” Molly let her backpack slide off one shoulder and onto the floor. She peered over Liz’s shoulder into the pot simmering on the stove.

“It’ll be ready in five,” Liz said as she stirred. She wore black leggings and a trendy mesh workout top—a recent purchase from Lululemon, Molly guessed, based on the giant shopping bag she’d spotted next to Liz’s bed. Her short brown hair was pulled back, her face flushed from forty minutes on the treadmill. Liz worked as an executive assistant at a hedge fund; she had to be at the office at the crack of dawn but never stayed a minute after five, and had usually already gone to the gym and started dinner by the time Molly got home from her shift at Angelina’s.

Liz made good money at the hedge fund—over six figures when you factored in her yearly bonus—but it wasn’t enough to fund her outrageously expensive taste. Luckily, Liz’s father had made a killing in private equity, and she still had access to his Amex. It was technically for “emergencies,” but none of her purchases at Intermix, Saks, or Barneys were ever questioned.

Some rich girls annoyed Molly, but not Liz. Perhaps because she was so generous of spirit, letting Molly borrow from her endless supply of designer clothes, jewelry, and brand-name makeup whenever she wanted. Liz never allowed Molly to pay for a single cab or grocery store run. She was conscious of the fact that her roommate’s financial situation looked nothing like her own, that Molly lived very much paycheck to paycheck, always picking up extra shifts at Angelina’s and battling to stay on top of her student loans. Plus, Liz was honest and self-deprecating in a way that made it impossible to dislike her. She constantly called herself things like spoiled and materialistic, and while it may have been true, Molly didn’t actually think of her that way. On the contrary, Liz was grounded, and refreshingly real, and nothing if not disciplined.

“Friends?” Liz suggested. “I’m craving season three. The episode where Joey puts on all of Chandler’s clothes.”

Molly smiled longingly. Dinner on the couch in front of Friends was their ritual. “I wish, Lizzie, but I can’t. I have fifteen hundred more words to write before the workshop tomorrow.”

“Ah. I forgot.”

“So I’m taking half that Adderall you gave me and locking myself in my room for the rest of the night.”

“Sounds like a party.”

“By the way, did you know Nina has been at Cash’s since Saturday? They played hooky together today.”

“Really?” Liz turned away from the stove, raised an eyebrow. “How do people get away with playing hooky from work?”

Molly shrugged. Nina was an assistant at a public relations firm in the Flatiron District. Her job was serious, but it seemed to be less demanding than Liz’s and Everly’s.

“God, Cash is such a moron.” Liz scoffed. “Why does Nina pick these lax-bro duds?”

“I was with them on Saturday. He’s not so bad.”

Liz rolled her wide brown eyes. She opened the cabinet and reached for two white ceramic bowls. “Are you gonna eat in your room, or has that Addy already kicked in?”

“I’ll have a little in my room. Thanks. Hey, guess what, Lizzie?”

“What, Moll?” Liz scooped brown rice into the two bowls, topping each with a ladleful of curry.

“This guy … from the band that was playing at the bar on Saturday … he just called me. When I was walking home.”

“Really?” Liz plucked two forks from the silverware drawer. “Did you hook up with him on Saturday or something?”

“No. I just saw him, from the crowd. We made eye contact.”

“Eye contact. Steamy.”

Molly punched her playfully in the arm. “But it’s weird, right? I didn’t even talk to him on Saturday.”

Liz’s brow creased. “What do you mean, you didn’t talk to him? You didn’t give him your number?”