City Love(30)

The conversation flows easily from one subject to another: which quotes I’m going to use for the warm fuzzies I’m making, his case for why I need to get into Monty Python, my obsession with How I Met Your Mother, his obsession with Breaking Bad, my ongoing search for the perfect veggie burger and chocolate chip cookie, his favorite restaurant in Jersey City.

“Razza,” he proclaims, “has the best food and atmosphere anywhere. You would not believe how good their homemade bread and butter is. They make these artisanal pizzas that take pizza to a whole other level. But I could seriously just eat their bread and butter.”

“You sound like a food critic.”

“I kind of am. Unofficially, of course. But yeah. I love that place.”

“Maybe we can go sometime.”

Austin juts his chin toward the river. “Presunset.”

We kick back to watch the sunset. Everyone else has left us alone. We’re giving off that unmistakable vibe of two people falling in love who do not want to interact with anyone else. A neon sign flashing DO NOT DISTURB over our heads would be less obvious.

Just as the sun touches the Manhattan skyline, Austin wraps his hand around mine.

“Being with you makes me so happy,” he says. “I could stay here with you all night.”

“Same here.”

Austin looks at me. His look lingers. Like he likes what he sees. This is the beginning of something incredible. I have a Knowing that my life is about to change forever. Does he feel it, too?

“I know we just met,” he says. “I know you’re not supposed to say these things this early. But I feel like I’ve known you for a long time.”

“Me, too.”

Austin puts his arm around me and pulls me close. I lean my head against his shoulder, watching the sky bleed from blue into purple.


Austin opens the passenger door for me. “Your chariot awaits, princess,” he says, waving me inside.

Instead of dropping me off at my place, Austin parks on West 11th Street. We get out and start walking slowly. Slowly is the opposite of how I usually like to walk. Hardcore New Yorkers aren’t only fast walkers, we’re strategic walkers. There’s a certain pattern I like to follow in familiar places. But being with Austin is a whole different experience. I’m a better person when I’m with him. The most adventurous, romantic parts of me are accentuated. We’re walking like we have nowhere to be. It’s the best feeling ever.

“Have you ever had an epic feeling?” I ask him. “Like, a feeling that was so monumental it was impossible to describe in words?”

“Kind of like a . . . transcendental experience?”

“Exactly! You’re completely transported to another realm of existence. It’s more intense than any other feeling.”

“I know what you mean. But I have to say . . . being with you is pretty intense.” Austin reaches for my hand. And then we’re walking down one of my favorite streets, holding hands on a perfect summer night.

I look up into the lit-up windows we’re passing. I’m chasing that epic feeling I had a few nights ago. Would Austin think I’m strange for looking in people’s windows? Or maybe he likes looking in people’s windows too, like with the colored doors thing. We pass a New School student lounge. A study group is gathered in a circle of chairs with laptops and notebooks, deep in discussion. In a second-floor window of an apartment building, a guy is working at his desk in front of the window, his face illuminated by the blue light of his computer screen. Big windows a few buildings down show an open-concept office on the third floor. Large sheets of paper are spread out over a counter. A few people are gathered around the counter, bending over the sheets and making expansive gestures.

“You got quiet,” Austin says.

“I was thinking about creative energy. It’s amazing how the words and art and film that inspire the world are being produced right here, right now. Tons of the most creative people in the world are here in New York. They’re so passionate about their work they can’t go home or even stop for dinner. We just passed a bunch of people still working, but they didn’t seem to mind. That’s how I feel about design.”

“I feel the same way. Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could skip the college and grad school parts and go straight to doing what we really want?”

“Yeah, but . . . it would be kind of helpful to actually know what we’re doing.”

“Oh, right. Knowledge.”

“Minor detail.”

I want Austin to kiss me so bad it hurts. Will he do it tonight? If he’s doing it tonight, could it happen at any time or will he wait until we say goodbye? We’ve already been holding hands like it’s a familiar habit. I’m positive he’s going to kiss me. The butterflies flap spastically in agreement.

Austin doesn’t go back to his car when it’s time for him to leave. Being the gentleman he is, he wants to walk me home. I tell him it’s okay to say goodbye at his car. But he insists on walking me home. When we get to my building, we hesitate awkwardly by the stoop again, the same way we did before. It’s weird because it’s way too early to be feeling the way I feel about him. Does he feel the same way? Like there’s no reason to hesitate? Like there’s no reason to take it slow? When you meet the right person, there’s no doubt in your heart that it was meant to be.