Last-Minute Love (Year of the Chick series) (6 page)

“Uh-oh,” he
said.

“What?” I noticed him looking at the side of my head.

“You have something in your hair.”

I raised an eyebrow. “
Oh really? Nice job making an excuse to touch my ‘Bollywood’ hair.”

He shook his head innocently. “I’
m serious! It might be a twig...or a pine needle?”

“WHAT?” I frantically started rooting around in my hair, remembering
that time I somehow contracted head lice as a grown adult, and now irrationally fearing that the horror had returned.

Erik laughed. “You’re not helping
by doing that. Now it’s even further in the back. May I?”

Feeling like a freak of nature, I finally stopped m
oving and awaited his examination. Unlike the grope-session I was expecting, he simply parted one section of my hair, and pulled out what was definitely a twig. Then he laughed at me.

At first I felt lik
e a disgusting forest-dwelling creature, but a moment later I remembered. “It was the oak trees!”  I said, but it only made him look confused. “Or maple trees,” I went on, “or...cedar trees? Actually I don’t know what kind of trees grow in New York, but I was standing next to these giant trees, you know where the line-up started across the street? So I guess one of those twigs fell onto my head,” I rambled on. “Which means I’m obviously not gross.”

He smiled. “
You’re not paranoid about it either.” I was cooking up my next comeback, but got distracted when he touched my hair again, stroking it gently as it fell down my back. “I haven’t had one complicated day since I came to New York. Then YOU come along.”

He had just
said the exact thing I was trying to block out, but there was nowhere for this to lead so I bravely smiled. “Lucky for you I’m just a tourist. Gone before you know it.”

Suddenly he dropped m
y hair like it was a used-up condom from “Motel 6.” I realized why a moment later when I spotted his cousins. He quickly returned to them, and the rapid Danish chatter resumed…

Chapter Five

The blue sky
flirted with the sun’s pinkish glow, as a light breeze danced across the pier. I was standing in a very long queue with Laura and Dave, wondering if we’d even make it onto the twilight cruise. More than that I was wondering if Erik and his cousins would actually show up. We’d purchased discount tickets for ourselves in advance, but when Erik heard about our plans he was certain his cousins would love it.

But would they actually show
?

“Did you try calling them?” I asked. “Maybe they’re on the boat already.”

“SOMEBODY cares a lot more than she should,” said Laura.

I rolled my eyes. “I do not even give half a shit. It’s just lame if they miss it when it’s such a beautiful night.”

I scanned the endless faces behind me, continually hoping to see a certain face.

***

The splashing of the waves competed against the sound of the muffled P.A. It was one over-rehearsed New York fact after another. We’d found ourselves a spot on the top deck, where Erik and his cousins had been waiting. He helped them to the bow of the boat, which guaranteed a spectacular view of the skyline. As they “oohed” and “ahhed” at the Chrysler Building he returned to us. Or to me, anyway, as Laura and Dave were snuggled in close near the guardrail.

The boat rocked
back and forth aggressively, forcing me to stumble towards Erik.

“Hi,” I said.

He smiled. “I’m glad you found us.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s not
like we were actually looking.”

He didn’t seem too convinced, but I wasn’t
exactly here to defend myself. I focused on the skyscrapers getting smaller and smaller against the twilight sky, as we moved ever further from the shore.

“I was reading more of your
blog last night,” he said. “Were you really once trapped in your bedroom, so your sister could meet a suitor without you getting in the way?”

I turned to him and nodded. “Let’s see...I
’m younger, I’m fairer-skinned which is basically racist but Indians don’t see it that way, so yeah...I was hidden away like a failed Jekyll and Hyde experiment. No biggie.”

He shook his head
. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“At least I had Internet access.” We both laughed. “And of course you haven’t heard
anything like that, how many Indian people does Denmark even have?”

He turned his gaze to the water as
he tried to remember. “I believe there are some…”

“Well t
here’s plenty in New York you could learn from. Lots of them drive cabs, and yes, they’re all my uncles.”

He laughed.
“Next time I will ask if they know their gorgeous niece is running around trying to avoid an arranged marriage.”

I blushed at the built-in compliment and turned
away. At the moment I was relieved I hadn’t written about James in my blog. The last thing I needed was this almost-stranger to insult a guy who meant so much more than a stupid blog, this guy I was somehow thinking about yet again.
Dammit James, get out!
I also couldn’t figure out why Erik who had a girlfriend back home was happily flirting with me. Is this what all guys did in general? Or was it only what all guys did when their girlfriends were an ocean away? Suddenly I wondered what James was doing, even though I wasn’t his girlfriend in the least...

Bloody Hell.

I needed a change of subject and fast.

“So...” I said.

“So...” he replied.

That took up at least
five seconds.
Good.

“How do you
have time to read nine-hundred-page books when you’re living in the city that never sleeps and working crazy hours for an investment firm?” I finally took a breath at the end of my marathon question.

“Hmm...” he re-adjusted his
glasses which was achingly hot. In all my life I would have never predicted having a thought like that. “Romi, you mentioned my job a few times last night. And you seem to mention it in a way where you assume it’s all I care about or do.” He lowered his face so it was close to mine. “There’s more to me.”

“But do
you love your job?” Being in control and asking questions was my only defence to those mesmerizing eyes.

“Love is a strong word. I like it...most of t
he time. And it has its rewards, of course. But I’m not the stereotypical guy working eighty-hour work weeks. There’s much more to life than that.”

“
So why do you do it if you don’t love it? Aren’t you at least supposed to love what you do?” I put my hands on my hips, continuing my control of this entire conversation.

“Romi, what do you do for a living? Because I imagine you have a job when you’re not writing your book.”

Dammit.
With my control suddenly gone, I shifted my feet on the wooden slats of the boat deck, looking at everything but him.

“Excuse me M
iss, I asked you a question.”

I sighed, finally facing him and the truth. “Listen, I work a corporate job like ever
yone else who does, since that’s what you’re supposed to do after you get a business degree. And getting a business degree is a popular option when you finish high school, you know so you can be all ‘sensible’ and thrive in society, just like everyone expects. So yeah...go ahead and ask: why do I do it if I don’t love it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
             

“My only answer, I guess, is that...
”
What am I even trying to say?!
Finally the answer was painfully clear. “I guess I’ve been a coward for almost my whole life.” I shook my head as I reflected on my life thus far. “And well...this is the first time I’ve ever admitted it out loud. But actually...one of my goals in the next year is to fix that! And there you have it. The truth.” I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders.

He smiled. “
This has turned out to be a breakthrough moment.”

“
Yes, yes it has, but can you please stop it now with the hard-hitting questions, Oprah?!”

“You started it!”

I laughed. “That’s true! But let’s keep it light from now on.”

“Okay,” he said. “Here’s an easy one
: when does your book come out?”

I started doing some math on my fingers, counting u
p the work that still lay ahead on my frightening first attempt to self-publish. “September, I guess.”

“
Can I buy it when it comes out?” he asked.

I raised an eyebrow. “
I don’t know...do you live in China, where censorship laws might prevent you from accessing such a book?”

He
shook his head as he tried not to laugh. “I do not.”

“Then help yourself,” I said
. “You can be one of the ten people who buy it.” I smiled.

“Su
rely you’ll sell more than that,” he said. “Just don’t let your talent go to waste like so many others by giving up.”

“
See that’s the part about not being a coward anymore. I am never giving up. Ever.”

We stared back out at the island of Manhattan
, which from afar seemed so quiet on this beautiful night. I snuck a quick look at Erik, searching his eyes for something, anything at all that might explain if I was more than a distraction. Whatever it was, it was keeping me entertained enough to toss my “no-man” rule in the East River...

***

A short while later, after taking a few pictures to appease his cousins, Erik was back where he’d started, keeping me company on this night-time boat cruise.

A photographer hired by the boat tour was
offering his services to anyone who’d listen. He seemed to be scoping out the couples, and when he arrived at the two of us, Erik carefully inched himself away from me.

“How about a pictur
e of you and your boyfriend?” said the photographer.

Erik looked like he wanted to ju
mp overboard.
Suddenly I’m the plague to you? Not so fast.
“He’s not my boyfriend. We’re actually brother and sister.” The photographer seemed confused which wasn’t surprising, given Erik’s light brown hair, blue eyes and overall whiteness. These qualities were a stark contrast to my long dark hair and obvious brown-factor.

“Well how about a picture of you and your brother?” he insisted.

“We may be brother and sister but we don’t actually get along,” I said. “So why waste a picture on it?” I scowled at Erik only to find him looking dumbfounded. It was hilarious.

The phot
ographer, deciding I was probably on drugs, shook his head at me and walked away.

After he was gone I
started laughing and pointing at Erik. “You were so scared! It’s like you were the president about to get caught with his intern or something. Relax, okay? I’ve got enough of my own problems.”

“What does that m
ean?” He suddenly seemed curious.

I waved him away with my hand. “Never mind, okay?
”
Change the subject NOW.
“So anyway I’m a writer for fun. But what do you do for fun?”

He dug his hands into his poc
kets and stared ahead. “I like reading, of course. And when I have time...I play around with a guitar.”

I gasped and nearly grabbed him by the shoulders
, but luckily restrained myself at the last second. “You’re a MUSICIAN? How am I only hearing this now?!”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I forgot to mention it.”

I slapped him on the shoulder, my earlier restraint now gone. “Yeah right you forgot!”

“Now calm down Romi, it’s just a hobby. Something to keep me busy when I’m not at work.”

I slapped him on the shoulder again. “Liar! Are you in a band?”

He started
rubbing his now abused shoulder. “You’re an aggressive one, aren’t you? Anyway I play with some guys when I’m back home. But it really is just that. Playing around. I brought my stuff to New York so I could practice and hopefully improve. “

I planted my feet directly in front of him, so for once it could be me with the probing stare
. “You can downplay it all you want, but it’s music, and music is...significant!”

He still appeared nonchalant. “How significant?”

“The MOST significant! I mean how would I experience all my joys and all my sorrows without the right soundtrack?”

I finally managed to replace his nonchalant expression with a smile so I continued. “In fact…the only thing I fear about apocalypse or a brav
e new world or whatever is the horror of being robbed of all music. Like they can feed us ‘Soylent Green’ all they want, ‘cause WHO CARES about eating people!” He laughed. “But take away my music…and I’ll cut you.” My eyes narrowed.

“Is it possible to be flattered and frightened all at once?”

I smiled. “Anything is possible.”

The boat rocked back and forth as we stared at each other like googly-eyed teenagers,
with my “no-man” plan now dead at the bottom of the river...

***

With the boat approaching Staten Island now, Erik was back with his cousins as I soaked in the cool night breeze. I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to find Dave looking somewhat judgmental.

“
What the hell’s going on?” he said. “We’ve been watching you two.”

“Oh trust me it is negative nothing.” I sighed. “He’s actually kind of boring, but who else is gonna keep
me company?”

I searched Dave’s eyes to see if he was buying it. I wasn’t sure, but I breathed a big sigh of relief when he walked away.

***

The boat was now closing in on the Statue of Liberty, the last stop befo
re the return journey to Pier Seventy-Nine. Once Liberty was standing tall at a remarkably close vantage, the engine turned off for a moment of quiet reverence.

Erik and I sto
od in awe, our bodies squished together with several others, as everyone tried inching towards the rail for the closest view. I almost became enveloped by an overweight middle-aged man, but Erik pulled me to safety by my shoulders and turned me towards him. “Are you sure you’re leaving tomorrow?” he said. He stared down at me, his pale blue eyes filled with hope, and his black-rimmed glasses making him look even dreamier than ever.
Move over, Clark Kent.

I smiled at him,
wishing I could just stay silent so it didn’t have to end. But when in my life had I ever stayed silent? “It’s tomorrow and I have to go back,” I said. “Canada is falling apart without me.”

He looked a bi
t sad but only for a second, then he turned me back around so we could get a closer look at Liberty. “Do you know how many people have been inside her?” he casually said.