City Love(35)

“Oooh!” Mica grabs at her own knee. “Is she okay?”

Someone helps the girl up. She’s putting on a brave smile, but you can tell she’s in pain.

“That’s gotta hurt,” Mica says. “Poor thing.”


We line up with our logs in the second row. When the game begins, our line moves to the right while the lines on either side of us move to the left. The frog is making her way across the river. She latches onto a log in the first row. Then she jumps to the back of a turtle. I try to align with her so she can latch onto me next, but she’s too afraid to leap. She slides out of bounds and loses her life. Each frog gets three lives, so she starts again. This time she manages to latch onto Mica. But when she jumps to the third row, a crocodile nabs her. She’s out again. One more life left.

As we’re playing her third round, a strong hand grabs my shoulder from behind. I’m so petrified I almost scream. Then I whip around to see who grabbed me. A guy who chose to be a snake is like, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Of course he scared me. He grabbed me in the same way I used to be grabbed.

But that’s not something I think about. Ever.





SIXTEEN

SADIE


“WHAT TIME IS IT?” AUSTIN asks me on the phone.

I check. “Almost seven.”

“Damn. I have to go.”

We’ve been on the phone for over two hours. I swear I could talk to him all night and still have tons more to say.

“So soon?” I joke.

“I have plans with a friend.”

“Where are you going?”

“Um . . . just this bar. You wouldn’t know it. It’s in Jersey City.”

Why does Austin sound distant all of a sudden? We were having the best conversation up until now. I’ve never met anyone I clicked with so strongly. But now it’s like he flipped the switch with no advance warning.

“When do I get to see Jersey City?” I ask.

“You can see it all the time from your side of the river.” Sounds of shuffling muffle Austin’s voice. He’s probably getting ready to leave.

“No, I mean . . . I want to come over. To your place.”

“You will.”

That’s it. That’s all he says. I wanted him to ask when I could come over. We’d walk around his neighborhood and he’d show me where he hangs out. Then we’d have dinner at one of his favorite restaurants.

There’s just silence on his end. No mention of when we’re going to see each other again. I haven’t seen him for two days. It feels like two years. The weekend is this gaping void without him instead of the fun free time it should be.

“You still there?” he says.

“Yeah.”

“I’m late. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

But it’s not okay. My heart sinks as he hangs up. I have a horrible feeling something’s wrong. Why did I have to push him like that? He obviously thinks it’s too soon for me to come over. I’m nauseous with that gross feeling you get when you think things are going one way and you suddenly realize they’re not.

My lack of boy confidence comes rushing back. I might burst into tears any second. Why did I bring up coming over so soon? I wasn’t even saying it to imply we’d make out or anything. It was just something I was looking forward to. Of course Austin didn’t ask me if I wanted to come over. We just met like three seconds ago. What’s wrong with me? Why couldn’t I wait and be patient like a normal person?

My relationship fail has left me emotionally exhausted. I make an executive decision to haul my drained self to my knitting circle. Otherwise I’ll be mad at myself all night. I grab my knitting bag and run.

Coming to my knitting circle was the right decision. The ladies here are always so friendly. The click-clacking of needles enveloping me as I knit two, purl two, soothes me enough to loosen the knots in my stomach. It’s like being immersed in a giant warm fuzzy instead of Mrs. Williamson’s living room. At one point I even stop thinking about the whole Austin drama for a few minutes. Mrs. Williamson is dealing with much bigger issues than mine. Her son is fighting cancer. He’s been really sick for the past few weeks. Even though she’s doing her best to make everyone feel comfortable, she’s clearly exhausted. She bends down slowly as she reaches into her knitting bag, then puts her other hand on her thigh for support as she bends back up.

When Mrs. Williamson gets up to go to the bathroom, I sneak the warm fuzzy I made for her into her knitting bag. I did the same thing for bullied kids at school. Hopefully those kids felt a little better just knowing someone was thinking about them. Hopefully Mrs. Williamson will understand that I feel her pain.

My own pain comes slamming back, tightening like an elastic around my heart. Austin probably didn’t even notice anything was wrong. He has better things to do than sit around wishing he could take back things he said. Does he even like me as much as I like him? God. What is wrong with me? I’ve never been this unhinged before. The last boyfriend I had was Carlos. He worked at Rite Aid. I was super shy about approaching him at first. My extreme lack of boy confidence prevented me from even saying hi, but I finally managed to push myself. We went out until it became clear that Carlos didn’t aspire to do much besides work at Rite Aid.