It’s official. Darcy Stewart is my hero.
“Should we go help her?” I ask, secretly hoping Sadie will say no.
“Um. It sounds like she’s got it under control.”
“How can one little mouse be so loud?” I wonder. “It was making this tapping noise like it kept scraping something against the floor.”
“Where was it again?”
I point to the corner by my dresser.
Sadie looks over. “It might have been chewing on the lamp cord. Or maybe something fell behind your dresser?”
Darcy comes back, waving a frying pan. “I figured out how it got in. There’s a hole in the wall behind the stove.”
“You moved the stove by yourself?” I ask.
“It’s a cheap stove. It slides out, no problem.”
“We have steel wool,” Sadie says. “In the utility closet. We can plug the hole with that.”
“Did you find any other holes?” I ask.
“Not yet. But the coast is clear if you guys want to come look.”
“Except we don’t know where it came from,” Sadie warns. “There could be another hole somewhere else.”
“Why do you think I have this?” Darcy holds up the frying pan. “I will flatten any mouse who dares come in here again.”
“I’ll call the super in the morning,” Sadie says.
There is no way I’m going back to sleep. I will be wide awake until the super gets here. So I might as well help Darcy look. I swing one leg over the side of the bed.
“What are you doing?!” Sadie panics.
“We should help Darcy.”
“But that would require walking on the floor.”
“Don’t worry. She’s protecting us.” I get out of bed and reach a hand up to help Sadie down. “You can do this.”
Sadie tentatively climbs down on shaky legs.
Am I really more confident than Sadie right now? I can’t believe I’m the one helping her instead of the other way around.
We creep out to the kitchen. Darcy has every light in the apartment blazing. Sadie stuffs steel wool into the hole behind the stove. Darcy hands us flashlights, splitting us up into areas like we’re detectives combing a site for clues.
If Brandon were watching us, I wonder what he would think. Would he assume we’re just three roommates looking for a mouse? Or would he be able to tell that, against all odds, we are so much more?
CHAPTER 13
SADIE
ONE THING I LOVE ABOUT skyscrapers is that they didn’t exist before. Before each skyscraper was there, there was only empty space in the sky. Someone contemplated the potential of that empty space. They conjured a magnificent structure out of thin air. Then they manifested their vision by constructing an entire building. They created something from nothing. They turned their dream into reality.
New York by Gehry is one of those striking skyscrapers that gives me chills every time I see it. Its twisty, undulating shape and hard metallic luster make it stand out as an architectural gem. There’s no other skyscraper like it. I love it best in this light, all glowy brilliance before sunset, illuminating its unique curves. Slick and sophisticated. Radiant and beautiful. Making me feel like any dream can become reality, including dreams as big as this one.
Every architect who looked up into nothing and imagined it into something believed the impossible was possible. The New York City skyline exists because of them. And we can see the entire history of our skyline right here at the Skyscraper Museum.
“This one’s so weird,” Darcy says. She leans closer to the sketch of Central Park Tower. “It looks like a pencil. How can buildings even be this skinny? This one looks like a strong wind would snap it in two.”
I read the information card next to the sketch. When Central Park Tower is completed, it will be the tallest residential building in the world. The developer said it will be one foot shorter than One World Trade, the building that stands next to where the Twin Towers once stood, out of respect. Now I like this building even more.
“I think it’s cool,” I say. “And I’m pretty sure it won’t have an indoor wildlife problem.”
Darcy crashed last night around four, but Rosanna and I were too wired from mouse trauma to sleep. We stayed up all night talking in my bed with the lights on. Rosanna propped the broom against my nightstand in case the mouse or any of its associates decided to make an encore appearance. I called the super at nine on the dot. Luckily he came right over.
“But this building was fumigated,” I protested as the super worked in the kitchen. He filled every hole and gap we discovered last night with foam. He also put down traps. I don’t know which is scarier: a mouse running around our apartment or a mouse caught in one of the traps, squealing in agony or chewing its leg off. “Why are there still mice?”
The super did a loud tooth suck. “Even monthly exterminations don’t solve the problem completely. I’ll add you to the list.”
Last night was a night of extremes. I went from the rapture of making out at Otheroom with Austin to the terror of encountering indoor wildlife. My head is still spinning from the brutal 180.
Darcy and I advance to the next room of the museum. A One World Trade Center retrospective covers an entire wall. We face a huge photo of the Twin Towers taken after their opening in 1973. It’s hard to believe that two buildings so tall and majestic could be destroyed. That when we look toward the holes they left behind in the sky, people were once seeing those towers there. This is why One World Trade is my favorite building. It represents what is possible in the impossible. It represents hope and freedom. Rosanna and I have been talking about good winning over evil, and I think One World Trade is the embodiment of that mighty force. The fact that this building is standing today shows how we can be triumphant in the face of adversity, no matter how horrible the circumstances.
Darcy looks at me. “Do you remember September Eleventh?”
“No, I was too little. But Marnix remembers some of it. It was like his second or third day of school when it happened. He didn’t know what was going on. No one did.”
We read more World Trade Center history. The last part of the retrospective is about One World Observatory, the observation deck on top of One World Trade.
“We should go there with Rosanna,” I say.
“Definitely.” Darcy yawns.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you yawn.”
“Staying up all night with a hot guy is a lot different than staying up all night hunting a mouse. Or it could be my job. Satisfying coffee addicts’ designer-drink demands is not as easy as I thought it would be. All it takes is one double shift to wear you down.”
“How did you get tonight off?” I ask as we move to the next room.
“I switched with someone else. Jude called me this morning. He wants to get together tonight.”
I screech to a stop so suddenly the lady behind us bumps into me.
“Sorry!” I apologize.
She walks on in a daze as if we never collided.
“You waited all this time to tell me?” I ask Darcy, incredulous.
“I’m trying not to get my hopes up. He could just want to be friends. Or he could just want to tell me how horrible I am to my face.”
“Dude. This is karma. How else can you explain the timing? Jude calls you the day after you break up with Logan? That’s a non-coincidence. The Universe is balancing out the BBB.”
“The what?”
“Bad Boy Behavior. Logan was such a dumbass. Now you’re getting what you deserve.” I bust out a dorky happy dance right here in the middle of the Skyscraper Museum. “We love Jude. And we love Jude for you.”
“We?”
“Rosanna and I. We discussed the situation and concluded that you guys should be together. Go, karma!”
Darcy sits on a bench. I sit next to her, still a little jumpy as my dorky happy dance winds down.
“I’m not sure karma works that way,” Darcy says. “Balancin
g everything out.”
“Not everything. Just parts of your life that have been extreme.”
“But just because someone is getting badness thrown at them doesn’t mean goodness is going to rush in and even everything out.”
“No, I just think that if you’re a good person, which you are, karma works with the positive energy you put out into the world. It’s like this power that helps a part of your life get better when things keep going wrong.”
“Not always,” Darcy argues. “Take my mom. My dad has been cheating on her for years. Did karma swoop in and balance things out? No. He destroyed their life together and left her with nothing.”
“But that could have been karma.”
Darcy looks at me like I’m crazy. “I thought karma was supposed to be a good thing.”
“It is! I mean, I am so sorry about what’s happening to your mom, but in the long run this could be a good thing for her. Do you really want her to stay with your dad? After everything he’s done?”
“You’re saying you think she’s better off without him?”
This is tricky. I totally think she’s better off without him. Hello, he’s a cheater and a liar. But of course I can’t tell Darcy that.
“Do you?” I ask, hitting the ball back into Darcy’s court.
Darcy is quiet for a minute. “Sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better,” she says. “Maybe that’s happening to me. Do you think Jude wants to get back together?”
“I hope so.”
“Damn.”
“What?”
“I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Now my hopes are up.”
“What did he say?”
“Only that he wanted to show me something. He gave me an address. I’m supposed to meet him there at eight.”
“Maybe he moved.”
“Or maybe it’s his new supermodel girlfriend’s place and he wants to show her off.”
I take some supershine lip gloss out of my bag. Lip gloss is so much easier to find in the small bags I carry now. Why did I ever feel the need to lug so much stuff around?
“Want some?” I offer the tub to Darcy.
She takes a little, delicately dabbing it on over her bright pink lipstick. Now I know why she looks extra glam tonight. She is always polished, but tonight she’s wearing a slinky aqua bodycon dress with the peacock espadrilles I love. She is shimmering like an ocean.
“You look amazing,” I tell her. “Sexier than any supermodel. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Except what Jude wants.”
“What if he does want to get back together? Do you want to be in a relationship?”
Darcy adjusts the strap of her dress. “All I know is I want him in my life.”
“He obviously feels the same way. If he didn’t want you in his life, he wouldn’t have called.”
“There you go getting my hopes up again.”
“Hope is a good thing,” I say. “Always.”
We leave a few minutes later so Darcy can go to Jude’s mystery address and I can go home to work on warm fuzzies. My high school friends and I are having a Last Blast party on August 19 before most of them go away to college. I’ve been making warm fuzzies for all of them. The warm fuzzies will look cute on their bulletin boards. They are kind of my way of sending a piece of me with them.
“Go, karma,” I repeat out front.
Darcy gives me a wistful smile. “I hate that bad things happen to good people. It would be so much easier if bad things only happened to bad people.”
She’s right. Karma isn’t simple. But even with its complications, I can never stop believing that good will prevail.
CHAPTER 14
DARCY
I’M NOT READY TO RING the bell.
As long as I stay outside the building Jude told me to meet him at, I can bask in the light of that auspicious flame Sadie stoked at the museum. The hope that Jude wants me back in his life is like radiant sunshine. Here outside the front door, I can be the optimistic girl Sadie wants me to be.
But what if he does want me back? As a girlfriend?
When Sadie asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship, not exclusive casual but committed all the way, I didn’t know how to answer her. With any other boy, I would say no. This city is en fuego with hotties. But everything changes when it comes to Jude. He makes my stomach flip, my heart flutter, and my protective layer fall apart.
Reality comes crashing in as a high school boy on a skateboard zips by, nailing a jumping trick that sends him flying off the curb. Being fooled by Logan. My dad destroying our family. All the relationships that have crashed and burned around me over the years. Someone always gets hurt.
I know how painful it is to be the someone who gets hurt. But I have been that someone for the last time.
I ring the bell. The door buzzes after a few seconds. I push it open and step inside the mystery building. There’s a small lobby tastefully decorated with an entryway table, a mirror, and a palm tree to the right. Two rows of mailboxes are centered on the left. An elevator waits at the far wall to take me to wherever I am meeting Jude.
Suite 200 doesn’t have a sign on the door, so I still have no clue where I am. I see a doorbell and speaker on the wall, but the door opens before I can ring the bell.
Jude is standing right in front of me like it’s totally normal for him to be opening a door where I’m on the other side.
“You found me,” he says.
Every cell in my body vibrates. I take a deep breath, forcing what I hope comes across as a relaxed smile. “After some serious navigation. Could the Financial District be any more confusing?”
“Well I’m happy you’re here. Step into my office.”
I brush past Jude, worrying that I’m too sweaty for my Vera Wang Princess to be working its charms. Damn you, August.
Jude closes the door. We just stand there for a minute, smiling at each other. He looks good. Scary good. So scary good I’m terrified I might make a huge mistake and beg him to take me back. Jude is rocking board shorts in sunset colors with a palm tree on the side, a threadbare tee in a vibrant shade of blue that makes his eyes pop, checkered Vans, and a glowing tan. His blue eyes glitter. His blond hair has more highlights from being out in the sun than the last time I saw him.
Oh yeah. The last time I saw him. When Jude said he wanted to fight for me, but he didn’t know what he was fighting for. The problem was, I didn’t know, either.
A ball bouncing on the hardwood floor somewhere inside alerts me that we are not alone. I look around and see that this is a huge, open-concept office with desks set up in clumps. Apparently Jude’s startup is a hit. A big conference table sits in the middle of everything, next to a wall of windows. I follow Jude farther in and discover another desk clump in a corner. A guy is bouncing a basketball in front of a hoop hanging from the wall.
“You ever gonna take a shot?” another guy sitting at his desk asks.
“That’s Harrison with the ball,” Jude tells me. “And that’s Dax at the desk. They’re my tech geniuses.”
Dax swivels around in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head, leaning back. He grins at Jude. “Can you tell your minion playtime is over? We’re only half-done with configuring the software update.”
“I’m in the zone.” Harrison frowns. “You know this is how I boost creative flow.” He sits down at the desk across from Dax, clearly bummed. The basketball gets dropped into his bottom desk drawer. His desk is impressively neat for a dude. Folders are color coded in even stacks. Clear acrylic desk organizers in a variety of shapes and sizes hold everything from pens to rubber bands to staples. Even his laptop is centered exactly in front of his chair. Dax’s desk is a sharp contrast. Papers, books, and random tech gear are splayed everywhere. Mounds of paper clips are scattered around. Harassed Post-its are stuck to everything. Detritus is sprinkled over the top of his mess like Romano on pasta.
“Hey, Jude,” Dax says. “Can we still sub
mit those dinner receipts from last week?”
Jude nods. “You can be reimbursed for any dinner you have here after nine.”
Dax rummages through some crumpled receipts. “They’re here somewhere,” he mumbles.
“Good luck with that,” Harrison snarks. “Can we please get back to work?”
“Oh, now you want to work. What happened to elevating creative chi or whatever?”
“Boosting creative flow.”
“Let’s hit it.” Dax snaps his focus to his laptop, clicking away on the keys so fast I linger there watching for a minute. Along with Dax and Harrison, two other people are working late.
This is the kind of office where you see windows lit up all night. It’s so How to Make It in America. I loved that show something fierce, and not just because Bryan Greenberg is a delicious slice of man. Bryan’s character starts a line of jeans called Crisp. He has a business partner, and they keep trying out different start-up ideas. They are on the grind 24/7. Always hustling and networking and doing every single thing they can think of to succeed. Not just succeed. They want to be grassroots rock stars. Failure is not an option for them. Their determination to become zillionaire entrepreneurs reminds me of Jude. You can feel that same energy here in his office.
Jude tells me about his seven employees. He has Dax and Harrison doing tech, two creative developers, one administrative assistant, one accountant, and one social media expert. That thing where everyone is constantly bursting into creative flame is infectious. It makes me want to figure out a name for my PR company and design a logo when I get home tonight.
“He’ll never find those receipts,” Jude whispers to me as we walk past the conference table to the other end of the open office space.
“You think?”
“Harrison submits his receipts like two seconds after he finishes eating. I was hoping his organization skills would rub off on Dax. Still waiting on that.”
“Did they know each other before they started working here?”
“Yeah. They moved over together from a big coding firm where they were cogs in a machine. How could you tell?”