Goodbye Yellow Brick Road ✔︎

10 | No-No

|photo by Jermaine Ee from Unsplash|

Aunt Emily's white Chihuahua greets me at the door doing his neurotic little welcome dance: his body quaking with shivers, toenails ticking on Italian marble. He's a pitiful excuse for a dog—especially compared to Monty—but I try not to hold that against him. I leave my textbooks in a pile on the foyer floor and pick up Antonio, who Mom and I secretly renamed No-No because when he was a puppy he couldn't move one tiny quivering muscle, without my aunt saying, "No, no Antonio." And because he no-no look like his namesake, Antonio Banderas.

No-No shivers harder when we're out on the terrace. I put him down and he skitters into the living room. I take a picture of the view. It's amazing but at the same time kind of strange because it's the complete opposite of what I'm used to. In Virginia, cityscapes are surrounded by acres of farmland and trees. It's not that I don't understand why New Yorkers need a gigantic rectangle of green in the middle of their city—and I'd rather be standing in the middle of it right now than hovering above the tree line—but still, something about it makes me uncomfortable. Nature shouldn't have boundaries.

I text the photo to Megan, along with a quote from my father: Aunt Emily married well, but she divorced better.

She calls almost instantly. "Everything is so tiny and far away," she complains. "I can't tell what I'm looking at."

"It's the southeast end of Central Park from Aunt Emily's terrace. You should see it in person."

"You should invite me."

"I did. Once, before I left and again, just now."

"I'll ask for a plane ticket for my birthday."

"November?"

"I'll ask for an early birthday present," she says. "Now, tell me about lunch—what's Paige like?"

"Very nice. Very...unique."

"Why are you being so cryptic?" Megan asks. "Is your aunt in the room?"

"No, I'm trying not to sound like an insensitive ass. Paige is agoraphobic. We met her in one of those enclosed study rooms in the library. That's how she does school."

"That's not... No, wait. Arachnophobia is fear of spiders, right?"

"Yes. Agoraphobia is fear of open spaces—and maybe crowds? Paige used to have panic attacks at school."

Megan is quiet for a suspiciously long moment. "What?" I ask her.

"There's something about your tone. You have doubts."

"Not about her condition." I head for the kitchen to forage for snacks while I relay the most important details of my private conversation with Paige. "Conner isn't looking for a normal girl. He's already in love with Paige. She won't admit that she feels the same, but I think I can help her—"

"Stop right there, stupid cupid. I have two words for you: Jacob and Brittany."

"That was different," I say. "They didn't know they were in love with each other."

"That's probably because they—good lord! What is that noise?"

No-No has launched into a fit of high-pitched barking. "I think someone's knocking. Hold on." I scoop up the little yapper on my way to the front door and put an eye to the peephole.

"Mother of shit," I whisper.

"What?"

"It's the It Boy. Let me call you back."