Jo had engaged to be as lively and amiable as an absent mind, an aching head, and a very decided disapproval of everybody and everything would allow.
—Little Women
Andrea left early the next morning, a yoga mat tucked under one arm. I cracked an eyelid as she crossed the living room at normal speed, making no effort to be quiet. The light through the bank of uncurtained windows glowed gray. It felt like I’d drifted off minutes ago, after lying awake for hours listening to unfamiliar noises and questioning my choices. Judging by the crick in my neck, I would have been better off on the floor than this stiff, too-short couch.
My stomach grumbled, the sound drowned out by the rattling whirr of a coffee grinder. I didn’t want Andrea to realize I was awake. She’d sent a pretty clear message yesterday that having an extra body in her space wasn’t her idea of a good time. My goal now was to make myself as unobtrusive as possible. Like the most undemanding, self-sufficient future summer research assistant anyone could want.
When the door closed behind her, I rubbed my eyes. The apartment was silent. Hudson and I were alone, with no adult supervision, but all I could think about was sneaking into the kitchen to look for food. This wasn’t exactly a sitting-down-for-family-dinner household, so there’d been no meal the night before—unless you counted the granola bar from my backpack I’d scarfed under cover of darkness.
Their small refrigerator would have been a bonanza if I’d been on a condiments-only diet. No wonder Hudson and Andrea were so thin. After easing the door closed, I settled on an iffy banana from the bowl on the counter, then buried the peel under a layer of trash.
By the time Hudson dragged himself out of bed, I was almost ready to brave the city on my own. He blinked sleepily at me, scratching his stomach with one hand.
“You want some breakfast?”
In my heart I pulled a Laurie, kissing my fingers and pointing them at the sky. My face played it cool. “I would kill for breakfast.”
Mom always said I acted like the world was ending when my stomach was empty. Maybe everything would look brighter after a meal.
My relief at knowing people in New York ate solid food was short-lived. There was no secret pantry full of cereal boxes or even a loaf of bread. We were going out to eat. By that point, I was almost too hungry to care. How expensive could breakfast be?
Answer: very, especially when the first three places we tried had an hour wait, and Hudson didn’t want bagels because the “good deli” was too far away. We wound up at a tiny restaurant with maybe seven tables in all, which was probably why they had to charge twenty dollars for a bowl of oatmeal. It came with a bunch of weird toppings, but still. Oatmeal.
I ordered a sandwich. It was only a couple dollars more, and at least sounded like a meal. When the waiter (who must have been raking in the tips to pay for that many tattoos) had taken our menus and departed, Hudson regarded me over the rim of his coffee cup.
“You look different.”
My fingers skimmed the back of my neck. “I cut off all my hair.” It would have been a great moment for him to tell me he liked the new style.
He set down his coffee. “That’s not it.” A frown pinched the space between his brows as he flicked a glance at my clothes. “Maybe it’s seeing you here. Out of context.”
I had been dimly aware that my “look” didn’t match the surroundings. Even I knew running shoes weren’t a fashion statement, but I’d figured there would be a lot of walking—and I considered this pair lucky, since I’d worn them last year when I placed at regionals. They usually gave me a boost of confidence.
“Same old me.” Aside from the missing hair. And the fact that I’d torpedoed my home life.
“I suppose you want to see the Statue of Liberty.” Hudson flipped his knife over, sighing like he was already fried from our exhausting slate of tourist activities.
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?”
I got the feeling there was a question behind the question, like Please tell me you didn’t fly here because you want to get married at seventeen and have my babies. “I came for a job.”
“You have a job?” He sat up a little straighter, like I’d suddenly become more interesting. I got a flash of the way he used to act toward me, when he was the outsider and I knew everything.
The waiter deposited a cutting board bearing the world’s smallest sandwich in front of me. Hopefully it was more filling than it looked. “You know how you wanted to do that internship?”
“Uh-huh.” He was scattering seeds over his bowl and didn’t look up.
“I thought maybe I could help your mom.”
Hudson went still. “You want to take my job?”
“Then you’d be free to do whatever you want.” Logic that had seemed so simple when I was alone in my room landed like a pile of mush in this dank and crowded restaurant. Not unlike Hudson’s breakfast.
“Yeah, no.” He laughed as he reached for his coffee. “That’s not going to work.” Shaking his head, he took a bite of his oatmeal. “Did you really think you could just show up here and she would give you a job?”
You weren’t there when it was just the two of us, I wanted to tell him. We had a connection—an understanding.
“Just for the summer.” I took a long sip of water. It tasted funny, but at least it was free. “I’m pretty well qualified, if you think about it—for what she’s working on now.”
“But there’s no way she’d pay you enough to live on. Rent is insane around here. Why do you think I haven’t moved out?”
It definitely wasn’t because of the home cooking. I shrugged, not wanting to admit I hadn’t thought that part through. I’d envisioned myself staying with Andrea and Hudson at first—or maybe longer. Barring that, I’d imagined something like . . . a boardinghouse. The type of place Jo March stays during her time in New York. If our table had been bigger, I would have banged my head against it.
“I did not expect you to pull something like this.” He sat back, totally relaxed as he scratched the underside of his chin. But then, there was nothing at stake for him. “You’re kind of wild, aren’t you? On the inside.”
Subtext: Even though you look super basic. I forced the corners of my mouth to curve. “That’s me.”
Hudson showed me more of the neighborhood after we finished. Restaurant, restaurant, bar, restaurant, clothing store that looked like it sold used workwear only everything cost hundreds of dollars, another restaurant, and (for variety) one extremely sad playground. The exact same swings had probably been there when Hudson was a kid. Hopefully Andrea had kept him up-to-date on tetanus shots.
I tried to act interested, like I might one day need to know the best place for pho in this three-block radius or where they made a killer flat white. It was hard to do when my mind kept spinning from one obstacle to the next. Then there was the fact that slowly walking from one food place to the next while dodging crowds of people wouldn’t have been my choice of activity even if I’d had money to blow on things like getting a fancier coffee ten minutes after paying for a normal one at a restaurant.
When Hudson suggested we go back to his place, I didn’t argue. The rest of the day was spent playing video games and watching Netflix, which I could have done at home. Except that if this had been my house, I would have felt free to use the bathroom whenever I wanted or get a glass of water before my throat got scratchy with thirst.
Was this what having adventures felt like—ignoring basic physical needs?
“We’ll go out later,” Hudson told me, between episodes of a series he was already halfway through that he swore I’d be able to follow. Andrea must have been working, because she’d been in her office since we got back. Considering how many times he’d complained about his workload, I was surprised she didn’t ask him to help. Maybe it was because I was there—though, really, who was more qualified than me to assist with a story about my family? I was like a walking fact-checker.
I wasn’t sure how many hours had passed when Hudson closed his laptop and shifted toward me, placing a hand on my thigh. Was he tired of this show? Ready for a snack? It wasn’t until he leaned over and kissed me that I caught on to his mood. No snack, I thought sadly, which only added to the lag between him kissing me and me kissing him back.
He was already pulling away when Andrea walked in. It should have been embarrassing to get busted by a parent, but I mostly felt relieved, even when she told Hudson she needed to speak with him. Sighing, he followed her out of the room.
Whatever his mom was saying to him—and I suspected it involved me—was less awkward than talking about how bad that kiss had been. Fffft: nothing. Like a match that doesn’t strike. The most memorable part was trying to figure out which one of us had eaten something pickled for brunch. I definitely didn’t remember that flavor from my sandwich.
Would we have tried again, if Andrea hadn’t walked in? I got the feeling Hudson had kissed me the same way he’d picked up his gaming controller, more out of boredom than because he suddenly found me irresistible.
What am I doing here?
The question was like a scrap of litter blowing past the car window. I grabbed at it, straining to read the message. Because suddenly I knew I would have kissed Hudson again, and told myself it was what I wanted, when what I really craved was someone to be nice to me and make me feel like I belonged. How pathetic was that?
It was a weird sensation, like I was floating outside my life. Had I ever really been into Hudson, or was it always more about the idea of him? Or wanting him to like me and mistaking that for a crush? Sitting in this unfamiliar room, in this strange city, I heard David’s voice say: You barely know him.
And even though Hudson wasn’t the only reason I’d gotten on a plane, it was like pulling a Jenga block out of the tower and setting the whole thing wobbling. Had any of it been real? The attraction to him, the sense of connection with his mom, the idea that I could reinvent myself in their city with a bigger and more exciting life?
Hudson came back into the room. “I guess we’re going out.” He was annoyed. I read it in his voice, the way his mouth turned down at the corners, his refusal to meet my eyes. Andrea must have told him to take me somewhere, and I doubted it was because she cared about showing me the sights. Hudson was pissed because he had to get up and do something, and it was all my fault.
I suspected his mood had also been soured by the kiss. Either he blamed me for not being more fun, or he thought I’d rejected him and now his ego was bruised.
“Do you want to change?” It was obvious that what he really meant was You should wear a better outfit.
If he hadn’t asked, I probably would have put on less sloppy clothes, but there was no way I was changing now. Which just proved that Hudson didn’t know me very well either.