City Love(56)

“I just moved here like a week ago and not only did I already run into you, you’re my neighbor.”

“Big city, small world.”

Does this mean I might cross paths again with Random Boy from last night? I was kind of hoping to never see him again. Not because I’m ashamed or anything. By the time Sadie asked about the hookup at Coffee Shop, I didn’t feel horrible about it anymore. There was no reason to feel horrible. Summer Fun Darcy sees what she likes and goes after him. It actually felt kind of fun giving Sadie and Rosanna a hint of what I’d done. But something still didn’t feel right. If I don’t understand my own feelings about something, I’m not exactly motivated to talk about it. The last thing I want to do is encounter the person who’s making me feel awkward for unknown reasons.

“It’s freaky how many people I’ve run into,” Carrie continues. “One time something told me to walk down a street I never go down. One thing you’ll learn about New Yorkers is that we’re entrenched in our routines. We walk the same way every day without even thinking about it. Suddenly walking a different way for no logical reason is a bigger deal than it sounds. So I walked a different way and turned a corner and there he was. The boy I liked in ninth grade. This other time I was on the N train—which I never take—and an old friend of my mom’s I hadn’t seen in ten years got on. Not only on the train I never take at a time when I’m never on the subway, but the exact same car. There’s no way that was a coincidence.”

“It’s a non-coincidence. That’s what my roommate Sadie calls those kinds of things.”

“Non-coincidence. I like that. Did Sadie make it up?”

“No, I think she heard it somewhere.”

“Everything happens for a reason, right?”

I smile and nod. But if everything happens for a reason, why did I get dumped so hard for no reason at all?

“Well, I’m happy to be a part of an exclusive New York phenomenon,” I say. “I guess this means I should get ready for reunions with friends from Santa Monica.”

“Totally. So what are you doing on the Upper West Side?”

“I’m on the prowl for adorable beach paraphernalia. Any suggestions?”

“Hmm. Let me think.” Carrie looks across 79th Street. “I can’t think of anyplace off the top of my head. I’m hitting Zabar’s and Fairway.”

“Is Zabar’s that place with the good cheese?”

“Zabar’s has the good everything. Fairway is ridiculous. You won’t even believe it. Are you into cooking?”

“That would be a no.”

Carrie laughs. “I’ll have you over for dinner sometime. You’d be surprised how easy it is to make a good meal.”

“Oh, I’m good with the million best restaurants ever right outside my door. Trust me, you would not want to eat anything I cooked. Except for toast. I can usually manage not to burn toast.”

“How about cereal?”

“Never burned cereal, either. No one makes cereal like I do. My cereal is so delightful it can almost be classified as a work of art.”

“Then maybe you should have me over for dinner sometime. Breakfast for dinner is always a good thing.”

“Get ready for the best cereal and toast of your life. Just don’t ask me to do anything complicated like eggs.”

An ice cream truck rolls by, its signature music tinkling in the afternoon sunlight.

“I also make good ice cream,” I add. “And by ‘make,’ I mean ‘scoop.’”

“Do you put it in a bowl and everything?”

“Not just any bowl. We have a matching set of bowls from Target.”

“How adult of you. Speaking of cooking . . . I have to go. Fairway at rush hour is a scary place.”

As we exchange contact info and make promises to get together soon, I can’t help feeling like something’s off. We were so close on the train in Italy. We even spent the rest of the day exploring Monaco together. But then Carrie had to leave and we went our separate ways and we haven’t talked since. It was super fun running into her, but there’s a new awkwardness between us I can’t quite identify. Maybe certain friendships are more dependent on past experiences than present ones.

“Are you good with getting around?” Carrie asks. “The subways are usually reliable, but they can be a nightmare if you’re not sure where you’re going.”

“The subway is already a nightmare. I just had a disgusting encounter I’m pretty sure is only the first in a long chain of repulsiveness.”

“What happened?”

I tell Carrie about the lewd creeper.

“He reminds me of my ex,” Carrie says.

“Was your ex a creeper, too?”

“He was the worst kind of creeper. You know, the kind that likes scamming on other girls behind your back?”

“Uck. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was better that I found out earlier than later. I can’t tell you how many girls I know who are stuck in miserable relationships because they’ve invested so much time in them already. I’m like, This isn’t about time. It’s about being happy. If you’re not happy with your boyfriend, what’s the point?”

“Exactly.” A stray breeze sweeps down Broadway, providing some momentary relief from the oppressive humidity. Temperature extremes usually don’t bother me. But I’m suddenly overheated.