David and Patch walked through Times Square. Patch preferred to walk everywhere if he could. Even though the wind was whipping their butts and it was dark and cold, Patch was in sandals, paper-thin khakis, and a torn white-linen blazer over an ancient pink oxford shirt. David, for what might have been the first time in his life, asked himself a fashion question: Was dressing with a screw-you attitude toward the weather the cool thing to do? And if so, why?
David wrapped himself tighter in the black North Face down coat his parents had bought him the weekend before.
“You know, we never hang out together alone,” Patch said. They were wandering slowly up to Ginger Shulman’s party at One Columbus Circle.
“Well, we’re …” But David trailed off. He wanted to say they were about as different as two people could be, but he couldn’t find the right words. Instead he said, “Do you think Selina will be there?”
Patch was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “You know, I hadn’t really thought about it. I like her though, I think.”
“Well, have you called her?”
“No, but we saw each other yesterday. I think we might’ve talked about being in love.”
“You can’t remember?”
“Nah.” Patch looked away from David.
They kept going. David’s phone vibrated against his chest. Amanda. He took the call.
“Are you going to be at the party?” she asked.
“Well, yeah. I was planning on it. Why?”
“Because then I can’t go. I don’t want to see you.”
“Oh come on Amanda—don’t be like that.”
Right then, Patch tapped David on the arm. He gestured for the phone. David gave it to him.
“Hey Amanda, this is Patch…Yeah, I know—we’ve definitely never spoken on the phone before. Anyway, it’d be great if you came to the party tonight. I don’t feel like I’ve seen you in weeks. And I’d love to be with you and David, because the two of you together are so great. So you’ll come? Good. See you there.” Patch handed the phone back to David.
For a minute, David was too shocked to say anything. Then he said, “Wow. First you drive, now you fix things.”
“I know one problem we need to fix, and that’s whatever’s going on with Jonathan.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right about that.”
“My little sister—she cares about him and she said he’s all messed up. She said we’re his best friends, so we’ve got to be there for him.”
David smiled. He thought, if only Patch were just around more, we’d all be less screwed up. But of course the problem was just that, Patch was never around. Then they both glanced up at a forty-foot-tall photo of a lingerie model they knew from kindergarten, and David managed to grab Patch just before he stepped into traffic and disappeared for good.