Page 30 of One More Weekend

Licking her lip as the event planners shuffled us out of the kitchen and into the main hall, Angel shook her head. “Can you live with not knowing?”

The question cut straight to the quick. I wasn’t sure I could, knowing that she’d moved away without knowing how I really felt. But then again, I didn't want her to stay just for me. And more importantly, I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship because I was a lonely bastard.

I couldn’t stop my mind from racing as the doors swung open and well-dressed tech bros streamed into the room.

But what if she feels the same?

20

JENNA

I couldn't helpbut laugh when I looked in the mirror and saw how I looked. I hadn’t dressed like this since middle school in my brief punk era.

But Sy refused to tell me where she was taking me tonight so I had no choice but to follow her instructions: dress for standing and wear something more punk than usual.

Standing at the center of my room, just at the foot of my bed, the thought of wearing this plaid mini skirt and fishnets with a torn-up band tee was honestly laughable.

With a shrug, I decided to trust the process and my best friend who had not yet led me astray. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door and down to the street. I’d waited to leave until Sy confirmed the time and address.

She’d made me promise I wouldn't look up where the address led me beforehand which felt counter to everything I held dear.

All I knew was that I was headed toward Bleecker Street and our old campus. The address wasn't recognizable to me as a college building, but it very well could be a place we'd gone before. Even if it was escaping me now.

I hopped on an uptown bus and threw in my headphones, playing something a little grungy by one of my favorite artists. Bopping along to the beat, I watched Chinatown turn to the Lower East Side and then to NoLita.

With each block, I saw buildings that used to be favorites now shuttered and turned into generic bougie restaurants.

It was hard to imagine what a much older New Yorker would have seen change in their lifetime considering how much had changed in just a few short years.

I knew that by leaving New York, I would hardly recognize it when I came back to visit.

The thought alone brought a tear to my eye before I managed to push it deep down and tune back into my music.

By the time I was at my stop, I'd managed to get myself back into the mood to spend the night with Sy at this unknown location.

I hopped off the bus and walked the three blocks left in my journey, counting the building numbers as I neared the location. The sun had finally sunk below the horizon, a deep blue taking over the sky above as night set in.

But I knew I'd arrived when I spotted Sy’s lean, tall body just ahead of me. Looking over her head, my jaw dropped when I read the familiar neon sign.

“Le Poisson Rouge?!”

Sy laughed and held out her arms to hug me. “Well, I had to take you back to where it all began, didn't I? Plus Ban Sacred is playing tonight and I couldn't miss taking you to their hometown show.”

I wasn't sure I'd be able to pick my jaw off the floor for the rest of the night. Ban Sacred hadn’t toured in years and there were rumors their lead singer was about to leave the band to go solo. So it might be their last show together.

Before I could get my bearings, Sy was moving toward the front door where a bouncer scanned tickets and IDs.

My mind flashed back to Henrietta's, afraid I wouldn't be able to stop myself from getting that close again. My pulse started to race, a throbbing coming to my head as I tried to forget how good it had all felt.

Approaching the front, Sy pulled out another phone barcode. Somehow, this little device had become our passport to unlocking the entire city, like Sy held the whole world in her pocket.

As we made our way down the stairs, I could hear the thumping of music. I knew it must've been the opener, considering it matched the vibe of Ban Sacred to a T. My excitement started to build now that the surprise had been revealed and my eyes wandered to the vaguely familiar band posters on the walls.

The stairwell was painted black with red lights that turned the posters to hues of red and black.

Downstairs, Sy grabbed drinks and got us situated in the crowd, gently elbowing her way through the densely packed room. It was always surprising to me how easy it was for her to navigate a tight space and somehow end up with the best spot in the house.

It was weird to see Le Poisson Rouge so packed with grown adults. The last time I’d been here it was swarming with college freshmen, attending the same welcome event Sy and I started the most important friendship of my entire life.

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