“Thanks. Do you know of a place we can go?” Brooklyn asked.
“Central Park? I know you’ve probably been there a lot, but we can have fun. Pretend we’re not in the city,” Simon suggested. Brooklyn nodded.
“I’d love to.”
* * * * *
Emma woke up to the sound of her alarm clock ringing shrilly. She turned it off and sat up, watching Kyle sleep beside her. Of course, that didn’t wake him up. He slept like—she didn’t know what he slept like. He slept sounder than anybody or anything else in the world. She gazed down at his beautiful face. She had been attracted to his beauty when they first met, it was true, but once she had gotten to know him, she found that there were so many more amazing things about him. But every time she looked at him, she still caught her breath.
He smiled, aware of her stare, and she knew he was awake. “Emma, I know I’m gorgeous, but quit staring at me.” he said.
“Uh. You suck, Kyle,” she said, and smacked him with a pillow.
He sat up, smiling. “Now, is that any way to wake up your boyfriend?” he asked, laughingly. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “You could have done that, and I’d be in a much better mood.”
Despite his familiar lips and comforting arms, Emma didn’t feel the same connection anymore. The spark was gone. She loved, him, she always would, but where was that passion they always had? Kyle still had it, but she felt like there was no fire at her end. She sat up and forced a smile. “You look like you’re in a pretty good mood anyway,” she said.
The events of last night came slowly floating back to her as she absently stroked Kyle’s silky hair. They had left the party soon after she’d walked in on his conversation with the white haired guy, and her parents were out, so Kyle had stayed over. They hadn’t done anything but sleep though—she was too tired for anything else.
But they were wide awake now, and Kyle still wanted her. He pulled her down to him and kissed her again. “Merry Christmas,” he said on her lips.
Oh yeah, Christmas. She had almost forgotten. Emma often felt like Christmas Eve had more festivities than Christmas day itself. She’d always found that odd. She stood up quickly, to avoid any further canoodling with Kyle, and walked down her parent’s sweeping marble staircase and into the kitchen, Kyle trialing behind.
“So what do you want to do today, Em?” he asked her.
Emma thought quickly. What could she do that wouldn’t involve him cozying up to her? For some reason, she wanted to be alone today. “I have to run errands. Boring stuff. You don’t have to come.” she said quickly.
He frowned. “Is something wrong? I love you, Emma. You know that, right?”
Emma nodded, wishing she could go back to the days when that was enough. “I love you too,” she said weakly.
“Good. I can’t lose you, Em,” he told her, gazing into her eyes with his leaf green ones.
She forced herself to say the words. “You never will.” And then she raced upstairs again to change. She could catch breakfast on the way to wherever she was going. She’d figure it out. She went through her closet, pulled on her Armani dress underneath a coat she’d gotten from Barneys, and pulled on her leather boots. Quickly, she kissed Kyle goodbye and ran out the door like a gun was chasing her.
Kyle knew something was off about Emma. She wasn’t so…he didn’t know. She was just different. She turned away now, when he moved to kiss her, and she had just run away from him as if he was someone she never wanted to see again. He sighed and sat down on her chair, wondering what he was doing in Emma’s house without Emma. He went back up to her room and pulled open the drawer that had held his clothes ever since they had started dating seriously, and pulled on a black T-shirt and jeans. He left the house five minutes later, looking disheveled.
He made his way to Dean & Deluca’s in silence. Just as he entered, a boy with longish hair and glasses stepped out with a familiar-looking red-haired girl with green eyes that sparkled with tears. Their clothes made them look like they were from opposite worlds, with her expensive ones and his faded ones, but despite that, they looked utterly comfortable with each other, Kyle thought. He watched them get into a car and drive off, trying to remember the last time he and Emma had done that. It had been a while.
* * * * *
“Hey, Simon? Can we stop at my house first? I want to get out of these heels. They’re not for Central Park,” Brooklyn told him, trying to put on a brave face.
“You have shoes for Central Park. What’s next? Shoes for shopping, shoes for strolling, shoes for errands?” Simon asked, trying to distract Brooklyn from what was obviously bothering her. “But, yeah. We can stop at your house. Just give me the directions.”
“I’ll enter them into your GPS,” Brooklyn said, looking for it.
Simon laughed. “Honey, I don’t have a GPS in this old thing,” he said patting the car affectionately.
Brooklyn wrinkled her nose. “Really? I’ve never ridden in one of these before,” she said wonderingly with half amazement and half disapproval.
Simon looked startled. “Really? You’ve never been in a truck before?” he asked in surprise.
Brooklyn shook her head. “Why would I ever need to ride in a truck?” she said. “Besides now,” she amended. “I don’t even know why you own one. I mean, we live in New York.”
“Oh, it’s a long story.”
“I have time. Besides, I’m trying to get distracted. So tell,” Brooklyn ordered.
Simon sighed. “You’re bossy.” Brooklyn frowned. “Forget I said that. Anyway, you know Averil? Yeah, well, she moved out of her parent’s home because they fought a lot. Way more than normal people. I think they may have almost hated each other. Not completely, because her parents still pay her school tuition, but enough that she did not want to be around them on a regular basis. She wanted to do everything that would piss them off, so she moved out, and moved in with a boy, alone.” Simon blushed at that. “Her parents are upscale New Yorkers, kind of like you, and like you, they would never dream of riding in a truck, so when we went to buy a car, she jumped at the idea of buying a truck, so we’ve had little old Bessie ever since.” Simon finished.
Brooklyn raised a perfectly done eyebrow. “Bessie? You named your car?”
Simon grinned. “No, I made that up. Just wanted to see what your reaction would be.”
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. “You have the weirdest sense of humor ever.”
Then he took on a more serious note. “So what do you want to do?”
“I thought we’re going to Central Park?” Brooklyn asked, confused.
Simon shook his head. “No. I mean, with your life. What do you want to be?”
And for once, Brooklyn had no answer. She realized that she’d never really thought about it. She had never really been a planner, not for beyond the next day. But she was a senior, and suddenly she realized, she needed to come up with an answer. So she asked, “What do you want to do?”
Simon answered without hesitation. “I’ve never wanted to do anything but write. I’ll go to NYU probably, and take creative writing and English literature. Then I’ll write novels while teaching part-time.”
Brooklyn stared at him. Here he was, with his entire life planned out. He knew exactly what he wanted, his exact strengths. What was she good at? When shopping didn’t count, she stood out nowhere. Her grades were good, but they were all the same. She didn’t shine anywhere.” I don’t know what I want to do.” she told Simon.
“No idea at all?” he asked. She shook her head. Simon was startled by the thought. He’d always been the type of person who needed a purpose in life. Writing was his. He couldn’t imagine not knowing what his dreams and goals where, what he wanted to do.
“Hey! Turn there.” Brooklyn directed him. She gave him the directions from then on, all the way to her apartment building. They pulled up in front of it.
“Whoa. You live here? It looks like a museum,” Simon exclaimed in surprise.
> “Yeah, well, welcome to the Upper East Side. Do you want to come in?” she asked.
Simon looked at the building warily. “Okay, fine. You sure I won’t get lost in there?”
“It’s my house, not a labyrinth,” Brooklyn said. And she took his arm, pulling him inside.
As she stepped through the threshold of the door held out by Brooklyn’s butler, Simon felt like he was entering a whole new world—crystal chandeliers, marble floors, a sweeping staircase, and expensive paintings. It made his and Averil’s house look like a hut in comparison.
Sitting on a couch in her living room was a fair haired boy with dark green eyes almost exactly like Brooklyn’s. He was on the phone, arguing loudly with someone.
He looked up at them and looked at Simon questioningly.
At the sight of Romeo, Brooklyn’s knees went weak. How could she not tell him about their father? Didn’t he have a right to know? But did she have the right to break his heart like that?
* * * * *
Romeo reclined on the couch, feeling anything but relaxed, though he was trying very hard to calm down. It was really hard though, to not smash his iPhone on the wall whenever he thought about Ty. When he heard the front door open, Romeo tried to look as calm as possible.
Standing next to Brooklyn was a guy so thin, he was thinner than Ty. His dark hair fell in his face and he wore a faded T-shirt and jeans that both looked like they had been through a war. Brooklyn didn’t usually pick up people like that and bring them home. She liked to date around, but she dated elite, always, like an unspoken rule. Though, it didn’t like these two were dating. Brooklyn looked really nervous, though, tugging on the ends of her coat and stepping on one foot with the other.
“Are you okay, Brook?” Romeo asked.
She nodded hurriedly. She grabbed the guy’s arm and pulled him away. “Come on, Simon,” she said and ran into the adjourning room.
Romeo stared after her, mystified. Finally, he stood up and glanced at himself in the gold rimmed mirror on the opposite wall. He looked like a mess, he had to admit. His hair was tousled in a way that would take at least fifteen minutes to rake through with his comb; his eyes were big and watery, with bags under them. He had much more than a hint of stubble, which he really needed to take care of, and he was standing there in his pajamas, at twelve o’clock in the afternoon.
He was sure of one thing—he needed to get a life. He ran upstairs and pulled on a T-shirt and jeans, pulled a comb through his corkscrew curls, and brushed his teeth. Downstairs, he found Cecily agonizing over something on her laptop, without even seeing him come in. He grabbed a bottle of orange juice and went out the door, not knowing exactly where he was going. Only that he had to get away.
Outside, the snow was falling thickly and he could feel it on his hair and eyelashes and clothes. Romeo hated that and dusted it off, but more came, so he eventually stopped. He probably looked like an idiot anyway, dusting himself off every minute. He walked more than he ever had before, trying to find himself. Trying to find who he was. He was finally jolted from his thoughts when he saw a familiar face, sitting on the steps of the Modern Art Museum. He was wire thin, dressed in all black—Ty. Next to him sat a tall girl, almost as tall as him, with honey colored hair that was flying in the wind and strung with melting snow. She was laughing, her blue eyes lighting up, her hands wrapped on his arm. For the first time, Romeo wondered if he was wrong about Ty. If he was dating Blondie over here, then why would he befriend Romeo for Brooklyn? But then, maybe it made him worse. Why was he trying to get so close to Brooklyn if he was dating Blondie?
Suddenly, Ty looked up and saw him. Before Romeo could get away, he was bounding down the steps towards him, Blondie at his heels, looking surprised.
“Romeo, you don’t understand. I like you for you. I didn’t even know you had a sister before you introduced me, and we were friends before that.” Ty said quickly. Like he was afraid Romeo would run away again.
Blondie was staring at them, openmouthed. She was pretty anyway, Romeo noticed. “And why should I believe you?”
“I came to town a few weeks ago. You were the first person who actually talked to me. Who else would have told me?” Ty said rationally.
Romeo sighed. Ty had a point. In fact, he was probably right. “Okay, fine, man. You’re right. Sorry I jumped at you. It’s just happened too many times.”
Ty smiled. “No, don’t worry. It’s fine. I get it.”
Romeo began walking away. “Anyway, I’ve gotta run, so, bye.”
Blondie yelled after him,” I’m Averil, by the way.”
He nodded and kept walking, not wanting to interrupt what had seemed like a cozy afternoon for the two of them. He was sure Ty would thank him for it later.
He ordered a falafel wrap from a nearby food truck, thinking of how Brooklyn would gasp and turn up her nose at it. His sister hated street food, or as she said, “cheap food.” She only liked food she considered elegant, her favorites being Italian and French. She was just like Cecily. It was he who was the experimenter in the family. He was the one who didn’t mind lower class restaurants and pastimes like bowling.
* * * * *
Ty sat on his bed, tired but happy. In the end, things had worked out. Romeo didn’t hate him and Averil liked him. He’d forgotten about Brooklyn completely, but he knew he liked Averil—a lot. More than her friend, Simon, would probably approve of anyway. Ty had seen the way he looked at Averil. He felt bad for Simon—Averil didn’t seem to have the slightest clue that he loved her, but he didn’t feel bad enough to let Simon have her. He liked her too. He knew it.
* * * * *
Emma lay down in her bed. The one that so recently had had Kyle in it too. She was tired, confused, and sad. Was it possible to fall out of love with someone? She had fallen in love with him so fast. He had been beautiful, doting, and funny. And he had loved her. She had thought they would be together forever. That they would grow up, get married, and settle into the life her parents lived. But as she rested her head back on the feather stuffed pillow, Emma wasn’t so sure anymore.
* * * * *
Seth lay back on his bed, so sleepy that his thoughts were slurred. But he knew one thing. Brooklyn hated him. He didn’t know why, but he knew it was true. And Alexia—what did she think of him now? He had kissed her and left, without saying goodbye, or apologizing, or asking her out. She must hate him as well. And he deserved it, he knew that too. He lay back, wishing life weren’t so complicated. He felt like his life was like a war now. One wrong move and you’re dead. Alec had laughed at him. It’s only love, he’d said, not some kind of life or death wager. But to Seth it was. What was life without Brooklyn?
* * * * *
Averil wrapped herself in her blankets, all tired out. She’d never had more fun than she’d had today with Ty. And that other boy, Romeo—he was so different from Ty. Ty was like a dark prince—the kind who comes in black armor with a helmet shielding their face and who nobody knows. The fair haired boy, Romeo, was the kind who was charming, well known and loved, with a royal family and a throne he would inherit. Like Prince Charming for Snow White. But, honestly, Averil knew she had always preferred the dark prince.
* * * * *
Simon stared at his computer, wanting to rip out the keys. He’d never had writer’s block before, but now, not a single word would come to mind. What was wrong with him? He’d always believed that true writers always knew what to say or write. He’d thought writer’s block was a myth, or something that people who weren’t talented used as an excuse. But here he was, not a single good sentence in hand, ready to pull out his hair. He stood up and walked to Averil’s room. Her golden hair was spread across the pillow in a radiant halo, and somehow the look of her peaceful figure, deep in sleep, calmed him down. He went back to the computer and began to type.
* * * * *
Romeo sat on the recliner chair on the balcony, staring at the falling snow as it slowly laid a blanket on the
city he loved most. He watched as the street lights reflected on the pearly white snow, lighting up the city beneath him. He was happy. He was happy to have Ty back. He was happy he didn’t feel so alone anymore. He was happy that Brooklyn could confide in him.
* * * * *
Brooklyn lay on her bed, thinking. It had been the weirdest, most horrible Christmas ever. Weird because of Simon. She didn’t ever hang out with people like him. But they had had fun, she had to admit, and for a while, in Central Park, she forgot about her father. He was the one who had made this Christmas horrible. And she hated him for it.
She felt the softness of her Armani sheets around her, calming her enough that her eyes were drooping and two minutes later, she was sound asleep.
* * * * *
Part Two
FOREVER IN OUR THOUGHTS
Three years later……
Natalia Drake walked up the steps to the Chamberlain house, feeling like she wanted to have fun. She’d thought college would be full of wild parties and drinking and boys. Not when you go to Princeton, she had found. She used her key to open the door, and found herself in the small familiar living room of the house.
At the sound of footsteps, she turned to the stairs. Within seconds, Kat was coming down, her dark hair wet and a wide smile on her undeniably pretty face. “Nat!” she cried.
Natalia hugged her, feeling her wet hair tickle her face. She smelt like lilacs. “Have you been using my lilac scented conditioner?” she asked. Kat shook her head, but her grin and a sparkle in her eye told it all. “Kat!” Natalia groaned. “That was my favorite one. I bet it’s all over now.”
“Now it is. Before I took a shower, it wasn’t,” Kat said.
“Uhhhh, Kat, you are such a pain,” Natalia said, throwing the pillow from the couch at her. Kat laughed as she dodged it.