City Love(37)

“Nailed it.”

“Where are you from?”

“Park Avenue. Lower Central Park.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be where the old money is?”

Jude puts his hands up. “You got me. But please be advised that the statements and opinions of this broadcast are in no way affiliated with Park Avenue old money.”

“I hear you. My family has money, too.”

“Really? You seem so down-to-earth.”

“So do you.”

“My parents don’t approve of my lifestyle. They want me to be a doctor or a lawyer. Typical Park Avenue bullshit. Their attitude is that if a person isn’t fulfilling his potential financially, he’s not making the most of his life. They were furious when I deferred college. Their heads exploded when I deferred for a second year. After I graduated from high school last year and told them I was going to defer to do what I love, they cut me off financially. Way to be supportive of your kid’s dreams.”

“Do they know how much you love what you’re doing?”

“They don’t care. You’d think parents would be thrilled to hear that what their kid loves to do the most is make other people happy. Not mine.”

“So . . . you’re supporting yourself just from your performance art? Respect.”

“Not entirely. I’m exploring some supplemental sources of income. This is far from the cheapest city.”

“Where do you live?”

“On Spring Street. I’m sharing a place with three other guys. What about you?”

“We’re a few blocks away. I have two roommates.”

“Did you know them before you moved here?”


“No, we were placed together through UNY. They’re awesome girls. I’m psyched it worked out.”

“Seriously. I didn’t know what I was getting into at all with my roommates. They could have turned out to be morons.”

“You didn’t know them before?”

Jude shakes his head. “Answered an ad and hoped for the best.”

“We got lucky.”

He holds up his mug. “Cheers to our luck.” I clink my tiny espresso cup against his mug, locking into his gaze. The sparkle in his eyes tells me that he’s not just talking about our roommates.

Jude is the one who’s impressive. He understands the beauty of going with the flow like a leaf in the wind. More than understands it—he’s living it. He refuses to compromise. He refuses to accept less than what he wants. The boy is my new role model.

“So those supplemental sources of income you’re exploring . . . what are we talking about?”

“Nothing sketchy. Just some side projects. One of them will hopefully take off soon. It’s kind of exhausting, though. I’m always on the hustle. Constantly networking. It’s weird how tiring not working can be.”

“What’s the project you’re hoping will take off?”

“That information is classified. But I might be able to tweak its top secret status and tell you everything next time.”

“What makes you so sure there will be a next time?” I tease.

“How could there not be?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Are you saying I might never see you again?” Jude scrunches up his face. “Incontheivable!”

“Dude, I love The Princess Bride! I’ve seen it like three hundred times!”

“‘Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has.’”

“Westley to Buttercup when she says they’ll never survive.”

“‘You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.’”

“Um, yeah. You just went up like a thousand levels of magnificent.”

“By being a movie quote geek?”

“By quoting from one of my top five fave movies. How did you know?”

“Like you said.” Jude smiles like summer sunshine. “We got lucky.”

Some boys are so adorable I could watch them all day. Not because they’re doing anything particularly interesting. Maybe there’s something in the warm way they interact with people. Or in the confident but modest way they carry themselves. Or a bunch of little things like the shape of their lips, the tone of their voice, the contagious way they laugh that makes me want to get closer to them. With Jude, it’s all of those things and more.

I cross my arms on the table, leaning in. I stare into Jude’s eyes as he sips his coffee. I don’t mean to stare. They’re just the most gorgeous shade of blue I’ve ever seen. I notice that he has a scar above his left eye.

“How did you get that scar?” I ask.

“Bike accident when I was nine. Normal kids fall off their bikes. I flew off mine.”

Jude tells the hilarious story about how he flew off his bike. I tell the not-at-all-hilarious story about how I was almost clobbered by that bike messenger. Before I know it, we have to leave. I’m surprised how quickly time flew. Jude changes into his magician gear in the bathroom while I rummage in my bag for gloss. Out in front of Dean & DeLuca, we determine that we’re going in different directions.

“Thanks for getting coffee with me,” Jude says.

“Thanks for treating,” I say. I put my new neon yellow sunglasses on.