Chapter 3
It particularly hurt when Amy got up and announced she was leaving. She had to drive her girlfriend to the airport. Hope smiled with no teeth, trying to hold back any signs of discomfort. They had been catching up about Botswana for about an hour, sitting on the kitchen floor, while Molly half-slept half-talked nonsense over Amy’s shoulder. The apartment had gone suddenly quiet. George and Alan had fallen asleep on their bed, while Anabelle slept between them like a giant baby. Silence felt sweet and the only things that could be heard were the broken kitchen tap, the tiny drops of water dripping carelessly and the sound of New York traffic outside. Amy went over every detail about Africa. She said she worked her ass off making those tampons. Some days her fingertips would be sore after handling and shaping all that cotton. Three girls who were originally part of her program left after a month. That doubled the work of the brave ones who stayed. Amy pointed this out a few times, making sure Hope noticed she had been considered by the program coordinator as one of the brave ones. She talked on and on about her host family. Hope had heard a few stories about them from back when they still talked everyday and asked each other what they were doing so as not to admit the conversation was nearing the end. Amy’s host parents were both villagers who worked in town. The mother worked as a secretary in one of the town’s local radio and her host-dad was a supervisor at a supermarket. They had a daughter three years younger than Amy called Keeya and a little son, Tapiwa. Both of them had shown Amy around, fixed and lent her a bike and showed her all the fun places she had to see before going back to America. They asked weird questions about her life back home and knew stuff about American pop culture that Amy herself had no idea about such as the names of all the Kardashian babies. They taught her how to cook Matemekwane which were spicy fried dumplings stuffed with vegetables. They specially cooked without any meat for her. Amy had been a vegetarian since she was twelve. They also made her a special porridge called Dikgobe with peas and beans and maize and helped her cook american veggie burgers on Saturdays. They threw a special thanksgiving dinner for her and Amy thanked that night she could experience all that with such a warm welcoming family. Amy told Hope she had learnt only a few words in Tswana but memorized two entire songs to sing after dinner with her host-family. She had travelled to towns which names she couldn’t pronounce and had seen animals without planning it. She met a lot of locals and people travelling from abroad. She said people in Botswana were nice and open and happy. She also said they had to work twice as hard for the regular things. They had a lot of will and a sense of community she hadn’t ever seen. Hope enjoyed seeing that little spark in her eyes, the kind that you only see when a person is talking vividly about an experience that changed their lives. She wondered if she had the same ability to see the world like Amy – full of beautiful new things and filled with that hopeful sense of tomorrow. She wondered if she looked that excited when she talked about Europe or her road trip across America. Amy looked nervous in an insanely cute way every time Hope asked questions and she couldn’t help but notice how her lips frantically moved, her voice became high-pitched and how she spoke twice as fast when remembering something so clearly she just had to mention every single detail about it. An hour talking just slipped away like sand between their fingers. Just like the perfect definition of Einstein's Theory of Relativity.
“I should get going” Amy sighed as she stood up after a long pause while she caught her breath due to all the talking. “I have to… I promised…”
“Go, it’s getting late” Hope finished the sentence for her, putting Amy out of her agony.
“Right.”
Amy woke Molly up. She barely had room in her dorm with Daisy staying with her for that one last night, but she wasn’t gonna leave Molly at George and Alan’s in that state. She helped her stand up, splashed some water on her face and made their way downstairs before getting a cab and losing themselves on New York’s streets. Hope walked silently to the balcony and lit a cigarette as she saw how Amy stopped a taxi on the street and hoped on. She stayed there for a while, gushing in the feeling of seeing Amy again. Hope touched her own lips, trying to remember what it felt like to be kissed by her back then. She got scared at the fact that the memory didn’t quite reach her right away. Maybe she was beginning to forget.
Hope grabbed Anabelle’s arm and tried to wake her up. She had promised she wouldn’t leave her alone there, stranded. Getting her to walk up the drop down ladder from her room in the attic would be a challenge, but she considered her options. It didn’t seem like waking up between George and Alan alone would be something that she’d enjoy. Her friend opened her eyes quite fast, surprised at the sudden shake. She didn’t seem in that bad shape. Her hair was messy and her eyes red due to all the pot they had smoked, but Hope had seen her worst than that after every party during senior year. They didn’t have enough money to get a cab so they took the subway. At that point of the night, most of it was filled with people either on their way to the second or third club, or the losers who were going back home alone. In spite of Anabelle’s company, Hope felt she belonged to the second group. She wasn’t even going home to anyone. Amy was. That sudden occurrence stung her on the middle of her chest.
“Cheer up, asshole” Annabelle told her at some point. “We are riding New York’s subway wasted, we are making memories as we speak.”
Hope laughed at her friend’s comment, trying to remember when was the last time she had seen Anabelle so nostalgic. College had definitely taken a toll on her. When they got off the subway, the sun was already creeping in. The streets were tinted with a golden sunrise beam that made them seem more welcoming. Hope felt glad Anabelle was there. Had she been alone, she would have started crying on her way home. They stopped at a coffee shop that had just opened. The man running it, a middle-aged bald guy with adult acne and a weird beard, was placing retractable metal tables on the sidewalk and pouring fresh coffee from a tiny window. Hope had a cold brew and Annabelle a caramel latte, while they shared a giant donut that left chocolate stains on their fingers and around the corner of their mouths. They ate in silence as the sun rose and it started to get weirdly hot for such an early hour.
“Did you talk to Amy?” Annabelle finally asked.
Hope had seen that little desire in her face to ask if anything had happened between the two of them.
“I told her the truth,” Hope said. “Like I should’ve done in the first place.”
“You really lost your grip there, dude.”
“I know. I’m the worst.”
Annabelle looked at her for a while, as if she was studying her.
“Why all of the sudden are you so open about this? Like… you never ever mentioned any other girl you liked before.”
Hope repeated the question in her mind, trying to come up with a witty reply to avoid answering. But she was too tired to even try.
“I don’t know, dude, I just… I don’t now. Amy’s weird.”
“Why?”
“She just is…”
“Welp, it’s painfully funny that after school, you now have a crush on her and she’s with someone else.”
Hope laughed bitterly at how the tables had turned, while she played with her fingers and stared at the floor. She could’ve explained how Amy had caught her attention a long time ago, but wasn’t in the mood to go into the specifics of her apparent sudden infatuation. Annabelle kept looking at her as if she needed an answer to stop doubting whether all of it was true after all. Hope knew she didn’t need to give her one though.
“It’s just strange how after all that time you ended up noticing her.”
The sun was full out now, and the first commuters heading downtown were flooding the little window where the coffee guy was standing with less hands than needed. A few older couples, early birds and joggers coming from Central Park started sitting on the other retractable tables next to them. Hope looked up north. A few blocks up, Columbia University stood in solitude.
“I think that she was the one who noticed me.”
***
Hope woke up with Anabelle’s sleepy breath on her face. Her friend was passed out on the bed, with arms and legs spread comically all over the mattress. The bad part about the attic was that as soon as the sun was up, it would come right through the skylight and burn her eyes even when shut. The good part about the attic was that a Paris Hilton party might be happening downstairs but no one would hear a thing. That’s why when Gina left for Mick’s parents upstate, Hope was completely asleep and didn’t notice at all. She picked up her phone and opened Instagram. Anabelle’s stories were first. One pic of Hope taken from behind while they were walking to George’s. One blurry video of all of them dancing on the balcony. Hope could spot Amy’s red hair flying around in the back. Another picture of New York buildings and finally one quick snap of Hope drinking coffee, her lips and nose stained with chocolate. She went to her searching history. Amy’s profile was there first. She had silenced her stories and posts to avoid seeing her pics with Daisy, but she couldn’t kid herself. She would do the same each time: tap on the little magnifying glass and type down @theredpandamy and wait so that the little circle around her profile pic would turn dark pink. She had uploaded a pic with Molly and the drag queen from the theatre’s entrance and a picture with Daisy at the airport. They were hugging and she had put a heart emoji between the two of them. Hope closed it and blocked the phone. She felt Annabelle spreading her arms open and moving her head in her direction.
“The bad morning breath does not go away, no matter how fancy your Ivy league college is” Hope said without moving her eyes from the ceiling.
“Shut up, you are not my ideal person to be waking up with either.”
They lied there in silence, looking at their phones. Hope checked Twitter.
“@nothope28: feeling like not leaving my bed at all or getting a haircut. those are not exclusive.”
Send tweet. Ten seconds went by.
“You are fucking crazy if you think we are staying here all day” Annabelle whispered taking her phone off her hands.
“Don’t be a dick” Hope said, climbing on top of her and trying to reach her hand. “Give it back.”
“Soooo many girls wish they were me right now” she joked.
Hope chuckled and reached it after struggling.
“Asshole.”
She sat on the bed.
“Why would you do that?”
“Well, I got what I wanted - you are not lying down anymore.”
“Smart sneaky bitch.”
They both sat on the mattress, facing each other.
“I am hungry,” Annabelle groaned. “Let’s go brunch, what time is it?”
“Great idea, are you planning on wearing last night’s vomited clothes?”
Annabelle just had the dress she had worn the previous night, which she had ruined with beer and puke. Hope realized she had no clothes, no toothbrush, no nothing. All she had was her phone, her purse and some weed left.
“Or… we can go pick up my things? Molly has them in her car.”
“And where is her car?”
“At Amy’s.” Annabelle said with her lips shrinking. Hope rolled her eyes. “We parked the car there. She knew she’d end up crashing on Amy’s couch and I knew you were close to Columbia so we figured it was the best place. Come ooooon.”
Hope laid again on the bed with her arms open, looking at the skylight. Was she going to be that person? The one that desperately wants to avoid the girl who had moved on without her? That was not like her. Amy seemed happy with her girlfriend. Thay had definitely moved past the awkward phase of getting to know each other and shared a complicity that was palpable. She would not interfere. She would be her friend, if that was possible somehow. And in the meantime, she would try to figure out how to stop feeling sorry for herself even though she was great at auto sabotaging her own chances.
“Well, text them and tell them you need your things.” Hope said trying to minimize the implications of going. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
“Right, I’ll go after you. Can you lend me some clothes?”
They got ready within forty minutes. Hope was done first, after grabbing her fringe jacket and putting some baggy jean shorts with a huge vintage belt that she had rescued from her mother’s garage sale boxes. Her converse were dirty and worn out, but she couldn't bring herself to throw them out. She had walked a lot of streets with them. She even managed to eat an entire bowl of cereal with some oatmeal before Annabelle was ready. They hit the street past noon. Molly had said that Amy and her were barely woken up and that they had plans to go on a tour to the UN headquarters that evening — a plan that both Hope and Annabelle both found nerdy, dull and not interesting at all. They resolved to go to Amy’s, pick Annabelle’s things and go back home so that she could put her own clothes. Hope’s pants were too long for her. Then, they’d probably end up grabbing something to eat. Hope wanted to see Washington Square Park and the Bowery, so they were thinking about walking around there until they figured out what to do next.
They arrived at the Columbia area and walked towards Carman Hall. Hope lit a cigarette while they waited. Annabelle frowned at the image of her friend, smoking with almost an empty stomach. Truth is Hope had never been a heavy smoker, but as her loneliness accentuated the year before, she had begun to smoke more. She liked to roll her own cigarettes and smell the fresh scent of organic sun-dried tobacco but as the vice grew she became more anxious and lazy and the art of making her own simply became tedious. Molly and Amy went down, all prepped and ready to go. Amy was wearing one of her beaded necklaces and a Hillary Clinton 2016 campaign t-shirt. Annabelle ran up to Molly and gave her a hug as she grabbed her bag with all her things inside.
“Thank you thank you thank you thank you” she said as she kissed her all over her face. “This asshole’s clothes are so long and tight I feel like I’m wearing a giant baby’s clothes.”
Hope smiled at the silly remark while she looked at the floor and put out her cigarette.
“So what plans do you have for today?” Molly asked.
“Dunno” Annabelle replied. “Hope wants to go see the Bowery and some vintage second-hand clothes places there. We might get something to eat on the way. You?”
“Oh, we want to check out this Eleanor Roosevelt exhibition at the UN” Amy said with the biggest eyes of excitement.
Hope couldn’t believe how adorably dorky she was.
“I bet it’s a hit” Hope commented sarcastically.
Amy didn’t notice the tone and proceeded:
“Yeah, it’s so interesting, the letters she wrote to Lorena Hickock are on display. They announced the exhibit for pride month and these are the last couple of days left before they take the whole thing to Boston. And then there’s an interactive part with all her columns and her books and even her speeches at the UN assembly and... ”
Hope smiled at noticing how fast she was going and how her voice was becoming more and more high pitched and serious.
“Oh, you were joking.” Amy realized.
“No, not at all, I think it’s interesting” the other one replied frankly.
They both went quiet.
“Well…” Molly smirked. “We should get going, Ames.”
“Yeah, so do we.”
Once again, they went quiet.
“Hey, why don’t we do something together tonight? Would that be too weird?” Molly brought up the question to the four of them, but she looked at Amy and Hope, trying to see if that would be uncomfortable.
“I mean, that sounds like a great idea,” Amy said. “If you want to.”
“Yeah, sure.” Hope added. “My cousin is out of town tonight if you guys wanna come over for dinner or something.”
“Dinner? As in grown ups?” Molly squaked. “Fuck no, we are going out tonight.”
Annabelle let out a laugh.
“Molly, what the hell?”
“Hell yes, I am starting my sophomore year in college in three weeks, I am not staying in two nights in a row in New York.”
Hope wondered why Molly had to be over the top all the time. Seriously, like, why?
“You can do better than that, Hope” Molly teased “Come on, what’s the best place we can go?”
“How would I know?” she said. “I just moved here.”
“I am sure there’s a place for people who look like supermodels like yourself and her friends.” she suggested. “Not that I don’t look like a supermodel but…”
Hope dug in her brain. She remembered this group of guys she met when she spent a few days in Boulder. She scratched the bottom of her brain, she had barely paid attention to them. They were a group of friends, yes, she remembered. A group of friends, some of them were from New Jersey, the others were from New York. Yes, that was it. They lived in New York, they had a band which sounded awful and two of them worked at that bar with a name that sounded like a cliché. What was it? The Wilde Guys? The Crazy Guys? Too lame. No, that was it, the Wilde Children!
“Fine, whatever.” Hope said, giving up. “A friend of a friend works at this trashy bar in Alphabet City. It’s called the Wilde Children.”
“And what do they do there?” Amy asked.
“Nothing, they just play music.”
Molly doubted.
“Okay, we’ll see you there.”
“Awesome, nerd.” Hope said. “Have fun at the Roosevelt thing.”
Molly and Amy got lost down the subway and Hope and Annabelle walked to Hope’s, Annabelle changed and they left the house again. Annabelle wanted to try out this restaurant near the High Line called The Wild Son, coincidentally. Both of them were starving, so they ordered hamburgers and iced tea and just sat on the chairs that were organized on the sidewalk, basking in the past-noon sun. They talked about how New York was both scary and awesome and how they pretended to know what they were doing when they actually didn’t. They walked down to the Bowery, just like Hope had wanted. She had no money to buy anything but they went in several second-hand stores, touched the fabrics and looked at the stupid colours the old vintage clothes had. She bought a Karl Kani bucket hat that honestly looked great on her before continuing their expedition west. As they moved closer to Washington Square Park and NYU territory, Hope grew more anxious. She had dreamt most of her childhood and teenage years with a life in that city, imagining every detail of it and how it would feel to finally be there. After her parents got divorce and his dad moved away, her mom had told her that she could do anything she aspired to. She could do anything or be anyone. But as economic struggles became more inexorable, she started doubting if that promised future of success and stories of overcoming were really destined for her. When she saw the first purple sign with the little flame hanging from a near wall, she realized she had made a mistake in ever doubting herself. And from then on, she promised she would never do that again.
Annabelle and her took out an old cloth they had found in one the open boxes at Gina’s attic, put it on the green grass and lied there under the shade of a tree. Pedestrians walked around and you could hear the sound of the running water of a nearby fountain. Some dude with a cello was playing a piece further down, closer to the Arch, as some people gathered round and listened. Annabelle napped for a bit and Hope took out a book, one of the very few she had brought from home. She had started reading it on the bus ride on her way to New York and was so caught up in the story she easily could have finished it right away. But it was so well-written and all the details were spilled in a way that tension would build perfectly, as if it was part of a choreography of words and sentences, that she controlled herself and decided she’d enjoy every page of it without rushing it. She reached her daily twenty page limit and woke Annabelle up. They got up as the day was nearing dusk and hopped on the subway to go back home.
“So how did you meet this person from the bar?” Annabelle asked while they were making a quick dinner.
“I met him in Boulder during the trip.” she mentioned. “They kept talking about their stupid band and whatever. Honestly, I don't think he’ll remember me.”
“Funny, I thought you had slept with him or something?”
Hope laughed at the idea.
“Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know, it might have added a bit of tension to our night with Amy and Molly, don’t you think?”
Hope evaluated the idea for a bit.
“Nah, I don’t think Amy cares.”
“Why don’t you flirt with him and see what happens?”
“Why would I do that?”
Annabelle talked as if she was approaching a social experiment:
“Well, first: you could end up having sex tonight. Second: you could see if Amy cares.”
She was frying some eggs on a pan as she talked and looked directly at the food being cooked.
“I’m a lesbian, A. I don’t like men. I am not a huge fan of dicks flying around, you know?”
Annabelle rolled her eyes.
“Then, what are we gonna do tonight?”
“What we do every night we go together: dance, get drunk, get high and cry in the bathroom. Not necessarily in that order.”
By the time they left the house, the two of them were already a bit light-headed. They drank one of Mick’s six-pack of Blue Moon and Hope wrote a note on her phone to remember to buy another one before they got back to the city. The bar was far south in Manhattan but the night was so deliciously nice and New York Saturday nights had such an addictive vibe to them that Annabelle and Hope decided they would walk a few blocks before finally hopping on the subway. They wallowed in the city’s addictive rush and the stranger’s faces as they made their way, hand in hand, down Columbus Avenue before doing a detour and taking Central Park West. Eventually they returned to Broadway and jumped on the 2 train to go downtown and take the L train to go East. Their expedition took them a little longer, while the effect of the beers faded away, and Molly and Amy were already waiting for them on the corner of Avenue A and 13th street.
“Where the fuck were you?” Molly squealed as she saw them.
“Easy, tiger” Annabelle calmed her down. “We're here, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, twenty minutes late”
“Chillax.”
Hope took a look at Amy while she stood with her eyes up, looking at the building they were about to enter. She had a little highlighter glow on her cheeks that accentuated the freckles and the pink of her cheeks. She also had lip balm on her lips and it made them look brighter and juicer. She had her mouth in a pout, the kind that she made when she was slightly concerned about something.
They waited by the line the people were doing outside, while Hope texted the guy she knew. She had already casually replied to one of his stories that afternoon and let him know that she and a couple of friends might be going. He said she should tell him when they were close to the bar and that he’d make them go in avoiding the exasperating long queuing.
“Do you guys want a bit?” Annabelle offered a half started joint she had rolled when they got off the subway.
Both Molly and Amy denied shaking their head.
“Come on, Ames.” Annabelle insisted.
She stepped closer to her and extended her arm with the lit blunt in her fingers.
“ I don’t smoke weed. It makes me…”
“...it makes her nostalgic and miss her mom.” Hope said, lifting her eyes and giving a warning look to her friend.
Annabelle laughed, but the sound diminished as she realized that Hope was dead serious.
“Leave the girl alone, A.” she said while she blocked her phone. “Okay, so T.A is on his way. He’ll let us in.”
“How do you know this person?” Amy asked. “Can we trust him?”
“Easy, nerd” Hope tried to calm her down. “I spent three hours in a car ride with him and his two other friends and he is harmless. If there was a chance to go serial killer on me, that was it.”
“Yeah, this just proves he’s nicer than average.” Annabelle continued. “I just hope there’s good music in here.”
“It’s the kind that I like.” Hope warned her.
“Then we are screwed.”
A tall guy with a beanie and a coconut earring walked towards them. He seemed a little bit older but not much. He waved at Hope from afar.
“Hey, long time no see” he greeted her.
He had a wide smile and nervous eyes.
“So these are the friends… hey” he continued. “I’ll let you guys come with me and I’ll give you each a free drink pass if you want. If there are other substances that you wanna try out my boy Nick, the tall blonde guy with a nose septum on the bar at the right will help you out. Band plays at midnight and then we have music until around four. The party usually continues at my place if you wanna join as well.”
He spoke kinda fast, as if he was advertising the whole thing to a bunch of strangers. They really were, but he fixed his eyes on Hope. All of them noticed, even herself. None of them said anything.
“Alright, we ready to go?”
They nodded and followed him down the entrance, avoiding the line and walking down a small dark hallway. When he opened the second door, a full dancefloor with a small stage at the back and two bars at the sides appeared in front of them. The place was packed and you could already smell the sweat coming off from the dancing bodies. As soon as they got in, their sight was considerably worse and all the dark light shone on them, exacerbating their faces’ angles and the bright colours of their jewellery.
“Okay” Annablle shouted at them so that they could hear. “I want no whining. We are doing shots, the four of us, cause there is no way I can put up more than an hour of this stinky place sober.”
Molly said yes without doubting and Hope laughed out loud. Amy looked worried, but followed them to the bar. Hope got it. Amy had been in Africa for the past year. Molly was ahead of her in terms of heavy drinking and substance abuse after spending freshman year at Yale with Annabelle. She was clearly not as loose as Hope would’ve been, but it was Molly Davidson. Baby steps. Amy, on the other hand, was experiencing this for the first time and Hope felt an irreplaceable need to take care of her. They arrived at the bar and recognized Nick, A.T’s friend, who also saw Hope and remembered her right away. He approached them.
“Hey, supermodel. So you finally came round looking for me, huh?”
Hope rolled her eyes at him.
“That’s real sweet but I don’t do basic guys.” she joked.
He laughed, hiding his shattered ego.
“So what kind of guys do you do?”
Hope leaned over the bar and approached his ear.
“I don’t do guys, I do girls.” She smoothly removed herself. “Can you pour us some tequila shots?”
“Yeah, sure. This round is on me.”
He quickly took four small glasses and filled them with cheap tequila. Molly and Annabelle were oblivious of the whole thing. They had been dancing. But Amy looked at the whole situation.
“What did you say to get us free drinks?” she asked in her year. “He seemed like he was hitting on you.”
Her eyes looked naive.
“I just told him I’m out of his league.”
They took the glasses to their friends with the salt and the lemon.
“Alright, I have an idea,” Annabelle said. “Let’s do the round.”
“What round?”
“We’ll all put some salt on our neck, like...here, right below our right ear. And each of us has to lick the salt from the person on their right.”
Amy looked nervously. Molly was on her right. Hope was on her left.
“No” Hope said. “Come on, that’s a silly game.”
Molly gave little jumps in her place.
“No, no, I wanna play, come oooon.”
Hope looked at Amy who seemed nervous and awkward. She asked her for her permission with a look and the other one knew exactly what her eyes were trying to say. She shrugged.
“Alright,” Annabelle said. “Let’s do this.”
The four of them poured the salt on their neck. Hope leaned over Amy’s and removed her red hair so that her skin would be uncovered. She took a deep breath and pressed her slightly open mouth over the little bump of salt, using only her lips and avoiding the awkward tongue situation. Her lips were moist enough with the lipstick to collect all the salt from the area and leave no traces behind. Her skin just felt salty and tense and smooth. She couldn’t see anything in the dark. She wondered if Amy had freckles on her shoulders or her chest. She tried to shake off the thought as she withdrew her mouth, chugged the tequila and bit the lemon with her teeth. The sour taste not only served as a chaser to the tequila and the end of the ritual but also as a strong distraction from what had just happened.
“Alright, let’s go dance” Molly said and took Annabelle by the hand.
Hope looked at Amy with an awkward look.
“That was weird,” she said. “Sorry.”
“No, no… that was… uhm, fine. It was fine, really.” she said.
“How was the Eleanor Roosevelt thing?” Hope pumped as she leant over her shoulder to ask the question. She was just trying to take her mind away from the tricky situation they had just been brought into.
Amy’s face lit up immediately at the question.
“It was so much fun, honestly, I am glad we got to see it.”
They both had to talk very close to each other’s year cause the place was noisy and a mess.
“What was the best thing about it?”
“Well, for starters, they had the original letters she wrote to Hickock and there were hand-written notes of some of the UN conferences she had been to. There were also tapes of her and radio recordings where she spoke about a lot of interesting things.”
“That sounds super interesting.”
Hope just relished in Amy's fast words and the way she kept talking about things that mattered to her.
“You should go check it out.”
“Alright,” Hope said. “Maybe I will. But it’s not really my thing.”
They both stood there, looking at each other. The band had just gone onstage and they were beginning to tune in their guitars. The music stopped and an awkward silence where you could only hear people’s small talking came into place.
“Then, what is your thing?” Amy asked.
A song started to play. It was a cover of The Strokes. Hope recognized the song right away. Amy didn’t.
“I don't know.” Hope shouted out as the music began. “For now, let’s just dance!”
“What?!?!”
Amy couldn’t hear a thing.
“Just dance!!!”
Hope grabbed Amy by the hand and took her to the middle of the dancefloor. They had lost Annabelle and Molly but it didn’t really matter. Hope started jumping up and down in very small jumps to go with the song’s rhythm as the red haired singer ran all over the stage. Amy and Hope finally let go and let themselves get lost in the music, hand in hand.
***
The sky had that shade of violet that announced it would soon be tomorrow. Molly and Amy had crossed the street to buy something to eat for the four of them. Annabelle was squating between a trash can and a tree in a corner of Tompkins Square Park. Hope covered her while she peed. She lit up a cigarette and took out her phone. Then, she googled “UN headquarters Roosevelt exhibit” and tapped on the link. She bought a ticket for the following Monday.