What If

What If I Say No?- Part 2- Welcome To New York

What If I Say No? - Part 2: Welcome to New York

You see, after making an impulsive decision to just up and leave, I figured the ride was over and I would get pulled into the opposite scenario, because this is the point where the What IF would normally end. This time, however, it continued to play on.

Somehow I ended up driving all night until I hit tall buildings and skyscrapers- New York City. I didn’t know what was calling me out there at the time. I was simply drawn there like a moth to a flame. Heh. Sounds more like how I got involved with Caspen. A little moth who wanted to be a butterfly, being drawn to the fire, well aware of the risk of getting burned. A new song began to swirl through my mind. I blindly reached for my phone which was in the center counsel. I tried to simultaneously open the voice recorder and pay attention to traffic. I never was a good multitasker. I almost didn’t see the bubblegum blue Fiat slam on their breaks. I clenched my jaw as I slammed on my own, just nearly missing their fender.

After a few deep breaths, I began to record, “We dance around the fire. Forget about her, forget about her. Love me until you’re tired and you forget about her, forget about her. ‘Cause when you dance around the fire, you’re goanna get burned.”

The rest would have to come later. Unless I wanted to get into an accident. Considering I just up’d and left my life with a few hundred in the bank, a wad of cash, no job, and no place to stay… I didn’t really want to risk it.

The realization stuck me like lightning. Sudden and electrifying. I didn’t have a place to sleep. Where do you find a cheap place to stay in the city? This is idiotic.

I never turned around, though. I’m not sure how I would have, considering I was sandwiched between a deep blue Chevy truck, and a Silver VW Jetta. So I pushed through the stop and go traffic until I made my way to some random bagel and coffee shop.

I didn’t even know what time it was. I had been avoiding looking at my phone in fear it would somehow convince me to go back.

I sat down at an empty table. It wasn’t a sit down and order type of place, but I just felt like I had to gather my bearings. I rested at a small, two-seater table against a cork bulletin board. There was a roommate ad amongst the various flyers that caught my eye. It was for a house on Midland Beach next to Miller Field Park, five minutes from Verrazano Bridge and close to transportation… I had no idea where that was. There were three bedrooms and three baths. The bedroom available was already furnished with a queen-sized bed, dresser, desk, the whole works. It even had its own bathroom complete with a shower-bath. It sounded too good for me to afford. And of course there was no monthly rent amount on the flyer anywhere.

“Figures,” I huffed. I still had no idea what time it was. What time was it when I left?

Winter took over the roads, even iced over some of the highway so it took me well over five hours to get here. Six hours, maybe? Seven? It was still dark outside, the teensiest bit of light beginning to seep through the sky.

A girl sat down in front of me, interrupting my thoughts and pulling me out of my haze. “Can I get you anything?” She asked. It was then I noticed the green apron tied around her neck. Her silk smooth, brunette hair was pulled back into a pony, letting her sharp cheekbones steal the show. Her lime green eyes stared at me unchanging. Her purple tinted lips curved upwards in a warm, welcoming smile.

“Oh,” I started. “Uh… I’m okay right now…”

She nodded. With the tip of her chin she pointed towards the bulletin board. “You interested?”

“Huh?” Maybe I wasn’t completely out of my daze just yet.

“I saw you eyeing my ad. Are you interested?”

It took me a minute to get it through my skull that she was asking if I wanted the room. “Oh. Yes! How much is it?”

She shrugged; her arms folded across her chest. “It’s my parents’ house, but they’re like never here. They own another house in Florida. They basically live there but don’t want to admit it because they like to pretend they’re not old yet.” She smirked.

Before I could say anything she started up again. “It’s pretty much all paid for by them. All I do is pay utilities. They even handle the money for the guys who keep up our yardwork…” She paused briefly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Truthfully, I could handle it on my own. I just don’t like being alone.”

“Who does?”

Her grin widened. “So what about you? Do you have a job?”

“Not anymore,” I confess. “I just sort of moved here from Rochester.” Moved. Is that what I’m doing? I could hear my mother’s voice as clear as my own saying, No, Evie. You ran away.

She nodded. “Where are you staying?”

“Nowhere.” The more I spoke to the girl, the stupider I felt for making such a rash decision. “I wasn’t really planning this; it was a last minute decision,” I try to explain.

“What happened?”

“I got asked out…” Yep, I’m officially the biggest idiot ever.

She laughed, tossing her head back. “You’ll have to tell me that story sometime.”

“I will,” I assure her.

A customer walks in and waits at the counter. She slapped her hand on the table as she stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

I finally pull my phone out of my pocket. 8:20 AM. No missed calls. No texts. Does anyone miss me yet?

I had emailed my boss last night to let her know I wouldn’t be coming back. I guess she was too pissed to reply. And I thought for sure I would have heard from Shelby by then, who was already an hour into work. Maybe she was in a rush and didn’t see my note?

A melancholy tune was playing over the stereo, being carried through the shop. I caught just this one line, “If this is giving up, then I’m giving up on love.” The words crawled over my skin a while, before sinking through like osmosis and poisoning my heart. How can you give up on love, I wondered. When you never believed in it in the first place?

The girl came back to the table with a raisin muffin and a coffee in a to-go cup. “Here. Eat something.” She set them down in front of me. This time she didn’t sit. She put her hand out instead. “Lila,” she stated.

“Evie.” I shook her hand.

“Well, Evie, I like you. You can move in today. The address is on the napkin.”

She walked back to the counter, her hips swaying. “See you at home,” she called.

Home.

I look down at the napkin. Above the home’s address she wrote in big curly letters: Welcome To New York.