Fourteen

The envelope flutters in my hand as the train roars in. It's a cold Chicago morning, the winds blowing in through the tunnel. I'm standing on the platform, staring down at the unopened letter. Jasmine sent me another one this morning. I always assumed they would stop coming at some point. We haven't seen each other since she dropped in for lunch a few weeks ago. I know she's busy with her music and everything. But it's hard to pretend like it doesn't bother me. She hasn't even told me when she's leaving yet. Are these letters supposed to make up for that?

Jasmine used to call me every day. When Daniel died, she went out of her way to come home every weekend to comfort me. I would lie in her bed as she played me songs on the piano to help me feel better. But she rarely visits these days. Now all I get are these letters that appear every once in a while. For a second, I think about tossing it in the bin next to me. But then I stop myself. Because I promised I would read them eventually. I place the letter back in my pocket and head up the stairs.

The streets are quiet this morning. I linger outside the theater a moment, watching cars pass along the road. There's something else inside my pocket. A paper rose I found on my desk this morning. Haru left it there after he disappeared again last night. For some reason, I still have hope that he might be there when I wake up. It helps me fall asleep at night, thinking things will be different this time. But all that's there is another folded piece of paper. At least I know it means he's going to find me again. I hope I see him tonight. I hold on to the rose as I head into the theater.

Simon and Alex are in the box office, sharing a bag of Hot Cheetos. Their eyes follow me to the counter as I set my things down.

Simon clears his throat in my direction. "And where the hell were you last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"You left without saying goodbye," Alex says. "We looked everywhere for you."

" We? " Simon says, crossing his leg over the other. "I hardly noticed you were gone, to be completely honest. Did you go off with someone from the party?" He wiggles his brows at me.

"No, I just went home."

Simon sighs. " Boring. "

Alex leans forward, eyeing me curiously. "Did you at least have a good time?"

I think back to the party. "Sort of, yeah."

She blinks at me. "What do you mean, sort of? "

"There was this guy who asked for my number," I say. "But I didn't ask for his, so I don't know if that still counts toward my goal."

"Of course it does," Alex says.

Simon scoffs. "Rookie mistake. You probably won't hear from him again, so don't get your hopes up."

Alex hits his shoulder. "You don't know that. He was the one who asked for your number, right? That means he's into you."

I smile at this. "You think so?"

Alex nods. "Of course. What was his name?"

My mind goes to the terrace, the image of him in his suit jacket. "His name was Christian," I say.

Simon and Alex look at each other. Then Simon says very slowly, "Do you mean, Christian Chan ?"

"He didn't give me his last name. But he told me it was his apartment."

Simon's eyes widen. " Eric … you know who he is, right?"

"I mean, not really," I admit.

Alex leans forward. "Eric, he's the lead in the show. How did you not know that? He's kind of a big deal here."

" Kind of? " Simon says. "Everyone's obsessed with him. What did you two even talk about?" He grabs my shoulders. "Tell us everything. "

"He just asked where I'm from," I say. "And he hasn't texted me yet, so I doubt he even remembers me."

"People never text the day after or they'll seem desperate," Alex says. "There's a three-day rule. So you might hear from him soon. But who knows if those rules apply to people with his reputation."

"What reputation?" I ask.

Alex presses her lips tight. She gives Simon a look, as if turning the question over to him.

Simon leans against the counter, lowering his voice. "If you really want to know, I've heard some things about him."

"Like what?"

"Let's just say he has a certain type, one you don't exactly fit into," he says vaguely, looking me up and down.

I give him a look. "So what's his type?"

Simon shakes his head. "Honestly, forget it. I don't even know if it's true."

"Wait, just tell me," I say.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's probably just a rumor," Simon says, waving a hand in the air. "So let's just drop it, okay?"

Before I can push him on this, the phone rings. Simon picks it up right away, ending the conversation. I wonder why he won't just say it. But maybe it doesn't matter. I probably won't hear from Christian again, anyway. I take a seat at the counter, moving my bag to the floor. Alex appears next to me, glancing at my things.

"Did you go shopping again?" she asks.

"It's the jacket from yesterday. I was gonna return it after work."

"But it looked so good on you," she says, pulling it out of the bag. "Have you thought about keeping it? It could be an investment piece."

"It's three hundred dollars," I remind her.

"Yeah, but if you wear it three hundred times, it's really just one dollar each time," she says. "It's basic girl math. And how often do you splurge on yourself?"

"I really can't justify that…"

"At least wear it one more time," Alex says.

"I don't have other penthouse parties lined up."

"Then find one. It's all about manifesting, remember?" She smiles as she hands me back the jacket, taking the other seat.

I think back to the party last night. I did feel more confident wearing it. The fabric is smooth to the touch, different from everything I own at home. I really wish I could afford to keep it. But I'm trying to save up for college, among other things. So I put it back in the bag and push it beneath the counter as a line begins to form.

It's been raining all afternoon. But the sidewalks have mostly dried up by the time my shift ends. The first thing I do is check if he's waiting outside for me. I was hoping we could spend more time together. But no one is standing beneath the marquee. Maybe he isn't coming today. Then I glance at the other side of the street.

"Haru!"

He's leaning against the crosswalk sign with his arms folded. I had a feeling he would be out here. His lips curve into a smile as I cross the street.

"Caught you just in time," Haru says, wrapping his arms around me. Then he glances at the bag in my hand. "Did you bring me a gift?"

"No, it's just this jacket I bought," I say, holding it up for him. "The one I wore last night."

"How could I forget. You looked impeccable."

"I'm actually returning it."

Haru frowns. "That's a disservice to the rest of us."

"It's too expensive to keep." I laugh. It's always a great relief to see him. Like rain during a drought. "How long have you been waiting out here?"

"Not too long," he says, sliding his hands into his pockets. "You came out at the perfect time. I have the rest of the day planned for us."

"Where are we going?"

"I was thinking we could catch a movie at Millennium Park. We could grab a bite to eat along the way. If that sounds good to you."

I smile at this. "Sounds like a perfect date."

"So it's a date?"

Haru takes the bag from me, lacing his fingers with mine. It feels so natural, the way our hands fit together. Strings of lights blink from above us as we head down the street. As we turn the corner, my phone vibrates in my pocket. There's a new text message. But the number is unknown. I open it anyway.

What are you up to tonight?

It's Christian btw

I let go of Haru's hand, nearly dropping the phone. " Oh my god, he texted me. "

Haru looks at me. "Who?"

"Someone I met last night," I say. "I thought he wouldn't remember me."

"What did he say?"

"He wants to know what my plans are tonight." I take a moment to think about how to respond.

Hi! I just got out of work

What about you?

Christian responds almost instantly.

About to grab a drink. You should come by

I text him back.

You mean right now?

A few seconds later, he sends the location to a restaurant in River North. I pull up the address on my phone. Is that the place he pointed out from his rooftop last night?

Another text from him.

I'm heading out soon. I hope I see you there

I turn to Haru. "He wants to meet up."

"When?"

"Apparently right now."

A silence.

"And you want to go?"

I hesitate. I've been looking forward to spending more time with Haru. But I wasn't expecting this text from Christian. It's not often someone like him asks to see me again. What if I don't get a second chance? Haru and I can see the movie another time, right? I turn to him and say, "They play movies at the park all week. Maybe we can catch one tomorrow. I mean, if you're okay with that."

Haru stares at me for a moment. Then he shrugs. "That's fine. Do what you want."

"You won't mind?"

"I'm not going to stop you."

"Well… okay."

I send Christian another text.

Sounds fun. I'll be there soon!

Traffic lights blink around us. I look at Haru again. "I promise to make it up to you. Maybe I'll see you after the movie ends?"

Haru smiles. "Have a good time."

Then he turns down the street and walks off. I shout goodbye, but he doesn't glance back. I wouldn't normally cancel plans like this, but who knows when Christian will invite me out again? I drop my bags off at the theater before I head to the train stop. I can return the jacket another time.

The Red Line drops me off in River North. The rooftop bar is located in the London House hotel. It's only a few blocks from Christian's apartment building. He sends another message, letting me know he's already inside. I still can't believe he wants to see me again. It's not like our interaction was very long. What if he has me confused with someone else he met at the party? I push the thought away as I head into the elevator. The doors open to the twenty-first floor where a piano is playing in the corner.

I wish I had brought the jacket. Everyone is dressed like they came from the country club. I make my way down the bar, looking for the terrace. Christian is sitting at a table alone, dressed immaculately in a beige shirt. He spots me as I come outside, rising from his seat.

"You found me," he says, making room for me on the rattan sofa. "Glad you could make it."

"I was in the area." I sit down next to him. The matching table reminds me of the patio furniture in his apartment. A glass railing runs along the length of the terrace, giving stunning views of the river. "So this is the place you told me about."

Christian smiles. "How could I talk it up when I know you've never been here before?" He picks up a menu from the table and hands it to me. "I hope you haven't had dinner yet. I've been craving oysters all day. Do you like oysters?"

"I'm open to trying."

As I scan the menu, my eyes widen at the prices here. Christian might have noticed because he smiles and says, "Don't worry, just order whatever you like."

"Oh… okay."

"Admittedly, the wine selection could be better," he says. "Was thinking of getting a bottle of something, if you have any preferences."

"I actually just turned nineteen," I admit.

Christian chuckles, leaning into me. "They never card at this place. You should get one of the cocktails. They're all good."

"Okay… what do you recommend?"

When the waiter comes, Christian orders for the both of us. A dozen oysters and some scallops to start us off. The oysters feels weird to swallow, but the taste isn't as bad as I expected. Our conversation is nice. Christian turned twenty-three a few months ago. He graduated from the Yale School of Drama. When he asks about my education, I consider lying to him. It wouldn't be a stretch to say I go to the Art Institute, since I basically work down the street. But I decide to be honest, despite the advice of Simon and Alex.

"I actually work at the box office," I say.

"I know," Christian says casually.

"You do?"

"Was it supposed to be a secret?" He smiles, taking a sip of his drink. "Apparently, you're the newbie there. Heard you've been taken under the wings of those friends you came to my party with. I hope you didn't have anything to do with the infamous missing cake."

I nearly choke on the bread. "I swear, that wasn't my idea."

Christian laughs. "Relax. We ordered another."

"I'm glad it doesn't bother you," I say.

"Of course not. I prefer chocolate."

"No, I mean, the fact that I work in the box office."

He shrugs. "Why would that bother me?"

I smile to myself. Maybe the rumors Simon heard about him are wrong. The waiter brings out the rest of our food, along with a bottle of wine. I don't really drink very much, but I want Christian to like me, so I let him pour me a glass. We share a tiramisu and cr è me br ? l é e for dessert. I stare out at the river, watching a ship pass. Christian must have noticed this because he asks, "Have you been on the water before?"

I think back to the other night, when Haru and I took a ride on the river. "I mean, I've been on a boat. But nothing like one of those."

His lips curve into a smile. "Would you like to?"

There's a two-story yacht docked at the water, a few blocks away from the hotel. It belongs to his friend from Yale, who happens to be hosting a small gathering tonight. I follow Christian up the steps of the stern as someone hands me a champagne flute. The next thing I know, we're moving along the water. It's a bit windy out tonight. Christian must have seen me shiver a little, because he places his jacket over my shoulders. "It's Valentino," he says. The leather smells of vanilla and musk. I wear it for the rest of the night. The views of Navy Pier are stunning from the water. At one point, Christian's friend even lets me hold the helm.

We return to the dock a few hours later. The moment we're back on the sidewalk, Christian turns to me and asks, "Would you like to come back to my place?"

"Are you having another party?"

He smiles at this. "I was thinking of something quieter. Just the two of us," he says.

"Oh…"

I stare at the water, considering this. Although I'm enjoying our time together, I'm not sure if I'm ready for more to happen. "Maybe another night," I suggest. "I have to wake up early for work tomorrow."

Thankfully, Christian doesn't push me on this. "Of course," he says kindly. Then he takes out his phone. "Let me call you a car."

"You don't have to do that—" I start.

He holds up a hand for a moment. "It's already on the way," he says, returning his phone to his pocket. "Should be here in a few minutes."

"Oh, thank you."

Christian walks me to the pickup spot and waits with me.

"I hope you had a good night," he says.

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun."

"I'm glad," he says, leaning into me a little. "Because I want to see you again."

I smile. "Me, too."

A moment later, a black car arrives. Christian opens the door for me. "Text me when you get home," he says.

"Okay."

The door shuts. Christian stands at the sidewalk, watching us drive off. I lean back in the seat the second he's out of view. There are still butterflies in my stomach. It was like something right out of a movie. I can't stop smiling as I stare out the window. At home, I take a shower and get ready for bed. I don't think about anyone else for the rest of the night. I fall asleep easily, wondering when I'll see him again.