In a New York Minute(66)

Chapter Nineteen

Franny



“Wait, I’m sorry. I’m going to need you to repeat this story again,” Cleo said from the couch, where she lay splayed out, chopsticks in one hand, takeout container of dumplings in the other. “You said, ‘Surprise,’ and then you kissed him?”

I buried my face in my hands. It had been twenty-four hours since I’d made the decision to run back and kiss Hayes. It had been quick, a flash of skin, a skip of the heart. So fast it almost felt like a figment of my imagination. But it had happened. I’d done it, and I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since, with a strange mix of horror and thrill. Horror because—what if he was horrified? And thrill because, well…it had been thrilling. And in between all the panicked thoughts, I’d been imagining what it might feel like to do it again.

Lola squealed and kicked me with her socked feet in a pitter-patter motion, like a cat getting its stomach rubbed.

“I had had two glasses of prosecco,” I moaned. “You know sparkling wine is one of my biggest enemies.”

“Oh, don’t blame it on the booze,” Lola said. “We’ve both seen you truly hammered, and this was not one of those nights. Remember the Halloween when we all dressed up like the Spice Girls and you made out with Wall Street Greg at that Gowanus loft party?”

Cleo raised her head. “Oh my god, Lo, and you clogged the toilet at that after-party?”

“Okay, forget I said anything.” Lola grimaced. “Besides, this is about Franny. Franny kissing Hayes.”

“Ooooh, and liking it!” Cleo piped up. “Remember when she thought he was a jerk?”

“I believe she said ‘asshole,’” Lola said, dunking a dumpling in soy sauce and vinegar. “I never bought it. You were smitten the second he forced his coat on you on the train.”

Cleo mm-hmmed in agreement from the couch.

“Wow, you are very insightful,” I replied sarcastically. “Seriously, though. I need to call him, right? And make sure he knows it was just an accidental in-the-moment kind of thing?”

Neither of my friends said anything. Instead, they each snuck a glance at the other. “I can see you both looking at each other. You know that, right?” I waved my hands at them. “I am literally two feet away from you.”

I looked at my phone for what felt like the five hundredth time today. So far, the only person I’d heard from was my mom, sending me pictures of possible floral arrangements for Ruby’s baby shower next weekend. I ignored her.

“I’m seeing Perrine tomorrow for yoga and dinner,” Lola said. “I could ask her to try to get some info out of him.”

“No!” Cleo and I said at the same time. Lola laughed.

“Great minds,” I said, leaning over to pat Cleo’s leg gingerly.

“This great mind is ready for that Advil you promised me earlier,” she moaned. “I hate my period.”

“It’s honestly a wonder our cycles are not synced,” Lola said.

“Well, I’m on birth control, so y’all will need to sync up with me,” I replied, a finger pointed to my chest.

“Hey,” said Lola, sitting up. “We’re all supposed to go out to dinner on Friday, remember? So you two can get to know Perrine better? Hayes is going to be there.”

Oh crap, right. She’d mentioned this over text at some point, and I’d said yes. Now her face was so eager it was clear this meant a lot to her.

“You’ll still come, right? Even if things with Hayes are weird?”

“Of course,” I assured her. I pushed back up off the floor and shuffled my slippered feet into the bathroom, digging around in the drawer I kept telling myself I needed to organize. Finally, I found the giant bottle of store-brand ibuprofen shoved in there next to my hair dryer and a box of organic tampons.

I walked back to the living room, bottle in hand, when I noticed both my friends sitting upright, erect, and slightly tense. “What?” I asked.

“Check your phone,” Cleo said quickly. “You got a text.”

I glanced at my phone on the floor, stomach leaping up to my throat. I looked back at my friends, who were staring at me expectantly. “You read it, didn’t you?”

“The whole message was just right there, on your screen.” Lola scrunched her face apologetically.

“Legally, we’re fine, because the text revealed itself to us,” Cleo said matter-of-factly.

“Don’t use your law degree against me!” I bent down and grabbed my phone off the floor, pressing the home button to reveal the screen.

Francesca, hi. Could we talk?



I stared at the screen, crafting my reply in my head. So far, all I had was “Yes.” Suddenly, another message popped up.

In case it’s unclear, I was using “Francesca’’ because you commented on me using your full name last night. I think this is me trying to be funny or perhaps even charming, but I am not particularly good at it, so.



My cheeks turned red, like a stovetop set to high. Seconds later, this:

I’m going to stop now.



I smiled, a small laugh escaping my lips. “Oh my god, what?” said Lola, her voice laced with the kind of urgency only a best friend coaching you through a postkiss text-message exchange can possess.