City Love(15)

“Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?” Austin asks. He’s looking out at Pier 25. The pier with the mini-golf course.

“Hells yeah,” I confirm. “And can I just say that the waterfall hole is the most challenging one you’ll ever play?”

“Are we about to have a mini-golf throwdown?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you can handle it.”

Austin gives me such an adorable smirk it takes all the effort I can muster to not melt into a puddle. “Bring it,” he says.

We decide to eat first, so we head over to the Shake Shack a few blocks down from mini golf. Austin scores us an outside table right as two girls are leaving. Snagging an outside table during the dinner rush on a gorgeous night is all about being in the right place at the right time. Or persistence, if you feel like lurking by the tables for the slightest sign that someone might be leaving soon.

“Did you know this Shake Shack is LEED Gold Certified?” Austin asks.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Because I only take you to the best places?”

“That must be why.”

Austin is a total gentleman. He pulls out my chair for me. He asks what I want so he can go in and order for us. He even brings extra napkins on our tray. How did he know I like extra napkins? When we go to mini golf after dinner and Austin is paying for our games, he asks for the purple golf club for me. How did he know I always get purple?

Being with someone who knows what you want without you having to tell them is paradise.

After Austin pays and we take our golf balls and clubs, he picks up a scorecard.

“Do we have to keep score?” I ask.

“How else will we know how majorly I kicked your butt?”

“What about playing for fun?”

“The fun part is when I majorly kick your butt.”

“Competitive much?”

“Much, yes.”

“Fine.” I pull a mini pencil from the bin. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“About what?”

“About how majorly I’m going to kick your butt.”

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Let’s do this.”

Five holes later, Austin is up by two points.

“Hole in one!” he yells. He runs to the hole. He does a little dance, swinging his club over his head. “Majorly. Kicking. Butt.”

“Very impressive,” I say. “This one isn’t easy. The green looks flat, but it’s not. Lots of imperceptible slants are hiding.”

“Yeah they are.” He struts some more. “How you like me now?”

“Same as before.”

Austin comes over to me. He puts his arm around my waist. “How much was that?” he asks.

Someone behind us lets out an exasperated sigh. I turn to see an angry tween chomping her gum so aggressively she’s engulfed in a thick fog of grape Bubblicious.

“Sorry,” I say. “Do you want to go ahead of us?”

“No, just go.”

“Kids nowadays,” Austin mutters under his breath.

I take my shots and hustle to the next hole. My heart is racing. Austin has already touched me on purpose. That means he can touch me again like it’s what he does.

When will he touch me again?

Austin lines up his ball at the ninth hole. Before he takes his first swing, he gazes across the water at his town glittering in the distance. He just stands there, grounded, and absorbs the view. His moment of Zen inspires me to look up at my own city. It’s the little things that make me the happiest. Streetlights around the pier illuminating the trees. The warm glow of hundreds of windows in the tall Tribeca buildings. A few bright points of light visible in the sky. The smell of hyacinths in the summer night air. At this moment, standing here with a boy I just met who already feels like home, I am overwhelmed with city love. City love is the kind of love that never dies. No matter how many boyfriends come and go, no matter how many heartbreaks I endure, this city will always be my true love.

“How awesome is it to be playing mini golf in downtown Manhattan?” Austin says.

“I know! I think about that every time I play here.” I love that we’re on the same wavelength. I love that one of my fave songs just came on the sound system. I love that Austin appreciates the little things like I do. Plus he’s cute, funny, smart, and is dedicating his life to improving my city. He had me at holistic wellness.

Things begin turning around a few holes before the hardest one. The hardest hole involves a waterfall where most of the balls get trapped. You have to hit your ball over a skinny bridge in order to avoid the frustrating fate of waterfall limbo. I’ve watched several people hunkered down on the green trying to retrieve their swirling golf ball by patting at the water with their club. Eventually the balls that are trapped in the water filter out to the lower part of the green, where the hole is. Unless they don’t. Some of the pink and purple smudges barely visible underwater have probably been there since the course was built.

If you asked me how exactly to hit a golf ball to guarantee it goes over the skinny bridge, I wouldn’t know how to describe the technique. The way you have to hit it is just something I intuit. I can tell if the ball will go over the bridge in midswing. This time, I know I’m free and clear the second I swing my club back. Austin and I watch the ball roll smoothly down the center of the bridge and circle down to the lower green. And that’s not all.