City Love(10)

“Where?” Rosanna says. Then she sees her. “No. Way. That’s totally Claire Danes.”

Claire breezes by. The air is suddenly charged. She has an electric magnetism that affects everything around her. It must be amazing to have that kind of power over people. I want to be that powerful one day.

We turn to watch Claire saunter down the street. More people turn and stare as she passes. Everyone is transfixed as she majestically swishes by them. Girl power to the max.

“Let’s follow her,” I say.

“You can do that?” Rosanna asks.

“People do it all the time around here,” Sadie says. “The West Village is flooded with celebs. I don’t know how many people actually follow them down the street. But we wouldn’t be the first.”

We start following Claire. Not in an obvious way. We’re super casual like we’re three friends strolling around the Village on a Tuesday evening who just happen to be going this way. Okay, we were going the other way, but no one has to know.

Rosanna giggles. The giggles erupt into a snort, which makes Sadie crack up. This is far from an undercover operation.

“Be cool,” I tell them. “She’s going to know we’re following her.”

The girls try to compose themselves. Rosanna smooths her hair down, clears her throat, and straightens up. Sadie is shaking her head like she can’t believe we’re such tourists.

Claire goes into an upscale gift shop. Her dark sunglasses make it hard to tell for sure, but I swear as we’re loitering outside the window gawking at her, she’s looking right at us and recognizing us as the fools she passed a few minutes ago. She’ll know we’re following her unless we act normal. Claire Danes cannot know we are the crazy fangirl stalkers we are.

“Let’s keep going,” I mutter. “That way it’ll look like we were just checking out the dipped candles.”

We walk on by like we didn’t even recognize her, playing it off super casual. We allow ourselves to stop and squee two blocks later.

“I can’t believe we saw Claire Danes!” Rosanna shrieks. “I love her!”

“Not that we stalked her or anything,” Sadie clarifies.

“Of course we didn’t stalk her,” I say. “We’re not creepers. We were just on our way to . . . somewhere over there.”

“Right.” Sadie nods. “That place.”

“You guys,” Rosanna says. “She was right there. We could have reached out and touched her.”

“That wouldn’t have been creepy at all,” I say.

Rosanna is freaking out. “Did you see her skin? It was like porcelain. She looks incredible. I hope I look half as hot when I’m that old.” She whips around to see if Claire left the shop. “Can we walk back? I have to see her one more time.”

“Let’s go,” I say. Rosanna is exuding a whole different energy than when I met her this morning. She’s not a reserved girl fussing over the kitchen table anymore. She’s an excited girl who’s opening up to the possibilities of this amazing city. Our wild and free summer is off to an excellent start.

One of the best things about being wild and free with a superhigh credit limit is being able to treat my friends. I’m thrilled when the girls accept my offer to buy them dinner. We find a bistro with a cute outdoor garden and settle in for what I hope will help build the foundation of a solid friendship. I don’t want to blow it. Especially since I need to make up for being such a douche to Rosanna this morning.

“Should we do coffee and dessert?” I ask the girls when our dinner plates are cleared away.

“I’m okay,” Sadie says.

“You’ve already been way too generous,” Rosanna adds.

“Stop,” I tell them. “We’re doing coffee and dessert. End of discussion.”

The girls beam at me. I love that they’re so appreciative.

While we’re waiting for dessert, I decide to share a secret about one of my biggest fangirl crushes.

“I have a confession to make,” I start. “You might think this is too mainstream. But.” I lean in conspiratorially. “It is my unwavering belief . . . that the musical sound of Ethan Cross rules.”

“OMG you like him?” Sadie yells. At first I think she means it in a way like How can you like him? But then she says, “I’ve been obsessed with him since ninth grade!”

“Um, excuse me, he’s been my husband since eighth grade,” Rosanna interjects.

“Take a number, ladies,” I say. “He’s all mine.”

Hardcore fangirling ensues. This sisterhood was meant to be.





SIX

ROSANNA


DARCY ISN’T AS BAD AS I thought. She might not even be bad at all. It was really generous of her to treat us to dinner last night. I peeked at the check while she was writing in the tip. There’s no way I could have afforded to pay my share. Especially considering that the muffin and coffee I splurged on this morning practically required me to take out an additional student loan. I thought the cashier at the café was joking when she told me the total.

Back in high school, I was pressured by rich kids to spend money I didn’t have in certain situations like group dinners. Group dinners are the worst. They always end up costing more than they should. Everyone should only pay for what they ordered, plus their portion of the tip. But it never turns out that way. You end up paying like twice as much as what you actually owe. And when everyone else agreed to split the bill however many ways, it was embarrassing to be the only one at the table disagreeing.