City Love(12)

I lean away from her a tiny bit.

She leans in closer to me by the same amount.

I lean away some more.

She leans in some more.

When she’s practically in my lap, I suddenly yank the book away. She almost falls flat on her face.

A grandma sitting across from us gives me a knowing smile. I’m sure she’s endured more than her share of subway offenses over the years.

People are looking at the lady next to me. She should be mortified. But she plays it off like nothing happened. She doesn’t apologize for getting all up in my book. She doesn’t even look at me.

When I get off at my stop and climb the subway station stairs into the summer evening light, my frustration melts away. I already feel like New York is my true home, which doesn’t surprise me. Somehow I knew I belonged here way before I arrived.

I’m telling the annoying-lady subway story to Sadie and Darcy in my head as I walk home. They will think it’s hilarious. I’m lucky that I get to go home to my people tonight. New York City may be home to millions of people, but without your people it’s easy to feel alone.





SEVEN

SADIE


“EXCUSE ME,” A GUY’S VOICE says from the entrance to my cubicle. “Have you seen Parker?”

I look up from the array of brightly colored Post-its spread out on my desk.

Oh my god. It’s him.

“Not yet,” I say. “Maybe he’s in his office?”

“I already looked.” He holds up a folder. “More paperwork on the checklist. I handed it in late last year and got the worst placement.”

Is it possible to be starstruck by someone you just met yesterday? Not even met. Drooled over from across the room. Get it together, Sadie. Help the boy figure out where Parker is. “The checklist for . . . ?”

“Oh, sorry. Upperclassmen have field-study placements for the last four weeks of internship. We get to list our top three choices of where we want to be placed, but we have to write essays about why each agency is a good fit for us. Last year I got stuck at the housing authority. Let’s just say their snack station didn’t include triple-filtered water. Not that they had a snack station.”

Austin has perfect arms.

“So what are your top three choices?” I ask.

“Delos Living is number one, of course. Ed Kopel also does a lot of LEED-certified construction. And BKSK Architects. They did Twenty-Five Bond Street. Have you heard of it?”

And those eyes.

“No,” I say.

“Seven people purchased the property together. Then they worked with the architects to create an apartment building with lots of common areas. It was kind of conceived as a big house.”

He’s so hot I can’t even look at him.

“Anyway,” Austin says. “Sorry to bother you. Parker has to be around here somewhere.” He turns like he’s about to leave. Then he turns back. “You’re a freshman? right?”

I nod.

“Do you have an area of interest yet?”

“Urban design. Same as you.”

“Nice. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“I wanted to thank you for your presentation. I’m really loving the environmental side of design now.”

“Oh, good.” Austin gestures toward the Post-its. “That looks interesting.”

“Not sure how interesting, but definitely necessary. I can’t believe everything I have to get done this week. The Post-it technique is a desperate attempt to salvage my sanity.”

He takes a step inside my cubicle. “What are you working on?”

“Spires.”

“Dude. I love spires.”


“I know! How awesome is the rotating LED light on One World Trade?”

“The beacon of hope. Freaking amazing. Isn’t it visible for like fifty miles?”

“That’s what I heard.”

We smile at each other. I don’t know what it is. Something about this boy feels really familiar . . . almost like we’ve met before. But there’s no way I would forget meeting him.

“I’m Austin.” He extends his hand to me.

“I’m Sadie.” We shake.

Austin looks around my cubicle at the bare walls and ancient filing cabinet. “Not too cozy, is it?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit on the stark side now? But we’ll be redecorating next week.”

“Really?”

“No.” I laugh. He laughs, too. “At least we’re allowed to bring in whatever we want to brighten things up.” I point at my replica of the LOVE sculpture I brought in today. It sits right above my keyboard to remind me of what’s most important. As soon as I pulled it out of my bag, it was official. My cube had been personalized.

“The least they can do to offset the torture of endless paperwork.” Austin taps his folder against his fingers.

A Post-it gets stuck to my arm. I must have been fidgeting without realizing it. “Paperwork is just a test of how bad you want it,” I say, casually brushing off the Post-it and hoping Austin isn’t picking up on how nervous I am.

“Judging from the amount of paperwork they’re testing me with, I’d say I want it pretty bad.”

“Then I have no doubt you’ll get placed at Delos. You obviously belong there.”