Hillary stood outside Kirna Zabete, tapping the toe of her tiger-striped ballet flats as Hudson walked up Greene Street. Hillary looked incredible—maybe too incredible. She’d traded in her puffy down coat for a belted swing coat with a fake-fur collar, and she’d pulled her hair back in a chic ballerina knot. Her bag looked like a knockoff of the Lizzie bag by Martin Meloy—bright white leather and gleaming silver buckles. And in her hands was a cluster of shopping bags.
“Hey,” Hudson said, walking up to her. “Do you want to just get some coffee? I’m not really in the mood to shop.”
Hillary shrugged and they started walking back toward Prince Street. Hudson didn’t say anything; she was still a little scarred by Hillary’s tongue-lashing the other day, and she didn’t want to have another fight in her favorite store.
“So I noticed you weren’t on the show last night,” Hillary said as she maneuvered herself, shoulders first, past the tourists. She still walked as if she wore that gigantic backpack. “What happened? Did they cut you out at the last minute?”
“I decided not to do it,” Hudson said, ignoring Hillary’s slightly cruel remark. “It didn’t feel right to me.”
Hillary’s shopping bags smacked against a lamppost. “Well, I think you seriously messed up with something else,” she said. “I spoke to Ben, you know.”
“Of course you did.”
“And guess what? He didn’t call Joe’s Pub and make that deal.” She shouldered her way past a dog walker. “But he found out who did.”
“Who?” Hudson asked. But before Hillary spoke, she already knew who it was.
“Logan,” Hillary said softly.
They stopped at the corner of Broadway. The signal read WALK but Hudson just stayed on the curb. “How did Ben find out?” she asked.
Hillary waited with her at the corner. “I guess Ben told Gordie and Logan who you were.”
“Even though I told him not to.”
Hillary sighed as if she wished Hudson wouldn’t interrupt. “They promised to keep it to themselves. But Logan made some comment about Ben being lame for not trying to use your mom to get some gigs. And after you hung up on him, Ben found out that Logan had called Joe’s Pub and promised them your mom. So Ben kicked him out of the band.”
“He kicked him out?”
“Yep,” Hillary said. “And they’ve been friends since, like, kindergarten.”
Hudson winced. “What about the band now?” she asked cautiously. “Is it over?” Without a pianist and a saxophonist, how could they still have a jazz band?
“I don’t know,” Hillary said. “His parents are kind of happy it’s over, I think. Come on. Let’s cross the street.”
Hudson followed Hillary across Broadway as the words it’s over knocked around inside her head. It was bad enough that she’d kept Ben from playing at Joe’s Pub. But now it seemed that she was responsible for the total demise of the band itself. Not to mention Ben’s dream of being a jazz musician.
“So, the other thing I guess I need to say to you,” Hillary said, turning around to face her, “is that you were right. As much as I hate to admit it.”
“Right about what?” Hudson asked. So far it hadn’t felt like she’d been right about much.
“About Logan being kind of a jerk.” Hillary looked at Hudson and there was a flicker of sadness in her yellow-green eyes. “He hooked up with Ellie and then he hooked up with one of the McFadden twins, too.” She wrinkled her nose with distaste. “But he really did give me his number back in January. Just so you know.”
“Oh, Hillary,” Hudson said, and without thinking, put her arms around her. “I’m so sorry.” She squeezed Hillary’s tiny frame. Eventually Hillary let her shopping bags drop to the ground and hugged Hudson back.
After a few moments Hillary pulled away and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Whatever. It’s not that important.”
“Is he the reason you changed your look?” Hudson asked gently.
Hillary looked down at the sidewalk and nodded. “Why? Do you think that’s lame?” she asked.
“Not at all,” Hudson said. “I just think that I liked the old Hillary Crumple better.”
Hillary looked up. “You did?” she asked.
“Yeah. Maybe she wasn’t the trendiest girl on the face of the earth, but she was a true original. And this Hillary…” Hudson gestured toward Hillary’s clothes. “Well, she looks nice and everything, but she’s definitely not original.”
A tentative smile spread across Hillary’s face. “Yeah, I guess it’s not really me,” she said. “And God knows, it’s expensive.”
“Is Ben’s family going away for spring break?” Hudson asked suddenly, changing the subject.
“Just for a couple of days,” Hillary answered. “They go down to see his grandparents in Florida.”
“When are they leaving?” Hudson asked.
“I think their flight is tonight.”
Hudson checked her watch. It was almost two. “Hold on one second,” she said, taking out her phone. She dialed Ben’s number. It rang and rang and rang.
“Are you calling him?” Hillary asked.
“Yeah,” Hudson said.
“Oh, he’s not gonna answer,” she said. “It’s the Westchester chess championships today.”
“Where are they?” Hudson pleaded.
“At the high school in White Plains,” said Hillary.
“How long will they last?” Hudson asked.
“What are you gonna do? Just barge in there while he’s playing chess?” Hillary asked in reply.
“Yep,” Hudson said. She glanced back at the N and R subway station on the corner.
“So, no shopping?” Hillary asked with a wry smile. Then she laughed and said, “Just kidding.”
Hudson leaned down and hugged Hillary. “Have a great spring break. And thank you. For everything.”
Hillary hugged her back. “Good luck up there. Say hi to the nerds for me.”
Hillary pulled out of the hug, picked up her shopping bags, and almost knocked down a small child as she headed off down Broadway.