Page 51 of Past Present Future

“This is better than the Staten Island Cakery,” Skyler whispers to me, and I try my hardest not to laugh. “But don’t tell Adhira.”

Rowan sends back a Dunkin’ Donuts for local delicacy, and I send a picture of a halal food cart. Pigeons fighting over a sliver of hot dog for wildlife in action.

Zoe points out the High Line, an elevated park built on a former strip of railroad. “My favorite place in the city,” she says. “Maybe it’ll be yours, too?”

The park is a mix of greenery and public art with stunning views of the city and Hudson River. With a burst of pride, I realize I’m starting to identify more and more pieces of New York geography.

“So I want to know more about this girl,” Adhira says as we weave our way around locals and tourists taking advantage of the sunshine, posing for photos, asking each other, Hey, what’s that building over there? “She must be really special to have made this for you. And you guys are still together in January of freshman year? That’s impressive.”

I lower my phone, examining the picture I just took of a building that looks as though it’s been folded like an accordion. I have to take Rowan to this park the next time she visits.

“Well…” I trail off, because while I’ve talked about Rowan, I haven’t exactly told our whole story. I’m not sure if anything could do her justice, but I’ll give it my best. “We were rivals in high school. Always the top two, obnoxiously competitive with each other. I’d sort of had feelings for her for a while, but I thought she absolutely despised me. Until the last day of school.”

Zoe lets out a squeal. “You’re kidding. That’s adorable.”

“And hot,” Adhira adds. “You thought you hated each other and then turns out, you love each other?” Then she shakes her head, black curls sliding off her shoulder. “God, I feel so single.”

I give them an abbreviated version of what happened on the last day of senior year, explaining Howl, the scavenger hunt-slash-Assassin game we played, and how we teamed up when we overheard other students plotting to take us down. A familiar warmth blooms in my chest, the awkwardness from earlier nearly gone.

“And you had her name the whole time?” Skyler says. They’re all rapt, Zoe’s chin propped in her hands, Adhira barely blinking. We’ve managed to snag a spot on some benches that overlook car traffic below. “She was your target? That could have blown up in your face so hard.”

“I thought it would be my undoing too. We had this huge fight about it, but then we met up for the last clue… and the rest is history.”

“That is so fucking romantic, I can’t stand it,” Zoe says. “The most effort my ex ever put in was when he bought me a box of chocolates for my birthday. And he ate half of them before giving them to me because he was, and I quote, ‘really hungry.’ ”

“I feel like I need higher standards after hearing this.” Adhira glances at Skyler, gives him a nudge with her elbow. “Why didn’t you ever do that for me?”

“Because I was sixteen and an idiot?” he says, and though they both laugh at this, I don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on her after she’s looked away.

“I went on a date with a guy I met on Hinge last night,” Zoe says. “He was really sweet. Not a fuckboy.” She nods toward my phone. “Maybe I should send him this as inspiration.”

I save the last clue for the end, not broadcasting it to the rest of the group because I like the idea of keeping this one close. Something that reminds me of you. A bookstore window with a Valentine’s Day display, stacks of romance novels.

Rowan: you win, but that picture melted my heart so much that I don’t even mind

Neil: Video chat tonight?

Rowan: please. I miss your face.

“You guys really didn’t have to spend your whole Saturday doing this,” I say, inordinately touched. “Thank you. Truly.”

“It was fun,” Adhira says. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Zoe grins. “I’ll bring Steve!”

As we part ways, Adhira and Zoe off to an East Village nursery for a new plant Zoe promises not to kill, while Skyler and I head back home to Greenwich, I realize two things:

One, that I can tell which direction is uptown and which is downtown without looking at a map.

And two, that I’d asked Rowan if “my roommate and his friends” could help—maybe they’re becoming my friends, too.

* * *

“You didn’t have to cover for me,” I tell Skyler. Despite the cold, the sun was too difficult to resist, so we’re sitting in Washington Square Park. “When they were asking about my parents earlier.”

“Yeah. No problem.” He stretches out his long legs. “I could tell there was maybe something else going on there?”

I know I don’t owe him an explanation, and I don’t want to bring it back up and risk sinking myself underwater. That letter has to remain firmly back in Seattle—it’s my only hope of staying afloat. Still, I find myself wanting to give him a fragment of the truth, just enough to keep him from asking any additional questions. “We… don’t have as much money as some other people here. As a lot of people here, I don’t think.”

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