My weekend was spent trying to convince my parents to let me spend a day alone with a girl in the city. You told me that you were leaving for the airport on Tuesday, which meant Monday was totally free.
"Her name's Natalya. No, she isn't my girlfriend. Yes, I met her at Columbia. Yes, she took the same class as me. Yes, I'm sure I don't have feelings for her."
I must have repeated that over ten times to my parents. Of course, half of what I said were blatant lies, but they didn't know.
It's Sunday night, and my parents finally gave me permission to spend the day with you tomorrow.
I stayed up pretty late, getting all the stuff I had to bring tomorrow in order, planning my outfit, and figuring out where to go. I sat in the kitchen for a quick snack, preparing to go to sleep soon, when all of a sudden, my dad comes out of his bedroom. I thought he was in deep sleep, but it turns out he was just faking it until he heard my mom go downstairs.
He gave me $80 in cash. It was like he had known all along.
"Go treat her well", he said.
Thanks Dad.
~
Monday morning. Low 80s, clear blue skies. My mom drove me to 179th Street Station, where I waited for the F Train.
I saw a mother and her three children, waiting for the train about a car's length away from me. A train finally pulled into station, but there must have been some kind of malfunction. Before all of her children could get aboard the train, the doors slammed shut, leaving two of her children on the train while she and her remaining child had no choice but to watch them depart from their sight. The mother, distraught, found the nearest NYPD policeman, and they took another train to find her children.
Another F Train pulled into the station. I rode that one to Kew Gardens, where I transferred to the E express train. We agreed to meet at Saint Peter's Church, 2:30PM, since we were both running a little late. I took the E all the way to the last stop, One World Trade Center, and ascended the stairs onto Chambers Street.
Then I saw you, sitting on the steps of Saint Peter's Church across the street. You looked angelic, in total unbothered bliss, sitting in the sunshine while you waited for me. You wore denim shorts, an orange, white, and blue striped shirt; and a pair of red, white, and blue Nike Cortez sneakers. Just like the first time I saw you, it was as if the world and all time had stopped. All else faded to dust while you became the only thing in my field of vision. A natural, wide smile formed across my face. I was so excited to see you again.
I walked across the street to meet with you.
"Hey!" I said, feeling a warmth in my heart as you looked up to see me, your face beaming with light. You greeted me with "Hey", and we began our adventure back in the subway.
We went back down Chambers Street Station and with my arm wrapped around your shoulders, we rode the A Train to High Street-Brooklyn Bridge Station. On a regular day, I'd be annoyed with public displays of affection, but today, the only people who existed within our world were you and me, and who cared what other people thought.
Arriving at High Street, we navigated the labyrinth of Brooklyn streets, finding the famed, one-way, Washington Street. This is where the most famous pictures of Dumbo, Brooklyn are taken. The tall, elegantly blue, latticed Manhattan Bridge sat perfectly centered between contrasting red-brick lofts, while cars rumbled along the aged, cobblestone roads. Already, the streets were clogged by various groups of people trying to get that perfect picture: some old, some young, some families, some couples. I guess we were officially tourists.
