Chasing Nirvana

Seventeen

I sat down at the writing desk and grabbed a pen and a blank sheet of paper from the notepad they provided us. Things to do in New York City, I wrote down. I underlined it twice slowly, giving myself sometime to think. Empire State, I put down as the first stop. Times Square, I added as the second. And then I continue putting stuff to the list as they crossed my mind. Rockefeller Tower. Cronuts. Central Park (Feed the ducks?). Met Museum. Guggenheim. Coney Island (theme park). Indie shops in Williamsburg. Radio City Hall. Madison Square Garden (check if there’re any games/shows). Strawberry Field, where John Lennon got shot. Broadway shows (perfect date place for Jimmy?). I chewed on the top of the pen as I thought about the last number on the list. How should I ask her out?

“Nate?”

I looked up. Scooter was still snoring away on the bed, so it could not be him.

“Nate, are you awake?”

This time, the voice on the other side of the door was accompanied by a knock, loud and unabashed, intended to wake someone up.

“Coming!”

I hurried to the door and pulled it open. Jimmy stood on the other side, basked in the orange glow of the corridor light hanging right outside our room. She was dressed in a white band t-shirt, The Beatles – I later realized, and her usual jean cut offs.

“Georgie fell asleep after showering and I’m hungry,” she said. “Wanna grab dinner? I saw a pizza place two blocks down. We can walk there.”

“Okay!” I said, a little too enthusiastically. She raised a brow at me, which made me flush. I cleared my throat and attempted a more nonchalant attitude. “Give me a minute or two.”

I pushed the door close as though I had all the time in the world, but as soon as it clicked shut, I ran around the room like a mad hatter, tripping over Scooter’s stupid towel on my way to the bathroom. I rummaged around the toiletry bag until I found his cologne and gave myself a good douse. Then I dashed back out into the room, hastily pawing through my backpack for a suitable shirt.

“Should have thought of changing before you took a bath in my cologne, dumbass,” Scooter muttered, still half asleep.

“Shut up, I – thought – you – were – asleep?” I asked as I pulled on a different shirt.

“Who the fuck could sleep through all that knocking and running? Just put your fucking shirt back on. It’s not going to improve your shitty personality anyway.”

“Fuck you,” I replied.

“Take a number, baby.”

I changed back into the shirt I was wearing before and grabbed my keys and wallet, pausing in front of my phone for a brief second. I decided to leave it on the table. Phone call to Mom can wait, I thought. I’ll call her in the morning. I looked in the bathroom mirror once more, just to make sure I didn’t have any half eaten food on my teeth, and then I headed straight for the door. As I was about to leave, Scooter stopped me.

“Hey, Nate?” he yawned.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fuck things up tonight.”

I flipped him off and stepped out of the room. Jimmy standing along the corridor, one foot propped up against the wall, typing away into her phone. She looked up as I neared.

“Took you long enough,” she said.

“Sorry, I was talking to Scooter.”

“Oh, does he want to join us?”

“No, no! He…um…he was just telling me to make sure I get some…er…dinner. Yeah, make sure I get some dinner for myself and for you and for him. That’s all. Let’s go.”