by Moondi, Romi
“No,” I said.
Now it was my turn. “What about this?”
He shook his head. “I want you in a tighter T-shirt.”
I laughed.
Erik and I were browsing through the New York Rangers fan store at Madison Square Garden, trying to find some gear in the final minutes before the game.
Learning about Erik’s love of hockey had been a random surprise, and when he told me he’d scored tickets to a Rangers game for our special weekend...I was thrilled. What could be more perfect for the girl who’d been so obsessed with the Leafs’ playoff runs in the nineties, that she’d totally forgotten to focus on dating boys? The beginning of the end of being cool.
I continued browsing through hopeless man-sized shirts that had clearly been sewn for grizzly bears. “Just so you know I’m only wearing a Rangers T-shirt for you.” I looked up at him sternly. “‘Cause I will always be a Leafs fan ‘til the bitter end.”
“Isn’t it always bitter for them? When was the last time they did well in the playoffs? Or even made the playoffs at all?”
I rolled my eyes. “Have fun watching the Denmark national team when you go home.”
He looked serious. “That was cruel.”
“Well maybe next time you’ll stay instead of running away.”
It was a joke wrapped in all kinds of truth, and even though we were laughing it wasn’t funny.
Finally I found a Rangers T-shirt for a prepubescent boy, or in other words, me.
I held it up.
“Oh yes,” he said. “I got one too.”
He showed me a simple white and blue ringer T-shirt, with the original Rangers logo. Perfect.
I insisted on paying and finally managed to yank the shirt out of his hands, as he’d been paying for everything all weekend, without the usual exchange of the girl “putting out.”
Out in the hallway we laughed as we undressed; coats, scarves and sweaters came off, as people walked by probably wondering if they should wait for a nip-slip. Sorry boys, tank top stays ON.
Looking like true Rangers fans now (or in my case a secret spy for the Leafs), we raced towards our gate so we didn’t miss the puck drop.
When we entered the arena the lights were off, with spotlights on the rink as the players came out one by one. Not wanting to waste a minute of privacy, Erik grabbed me and we kissed madly in one of the aisles. After the lights came on our kiss continued, and we were met with cheers (plus some jeers as well).
“Sorry!” I said sounding breathless. “This is our last weekend together!”
We laughed and jogged up the aisle towards our seats, as several New Yorkers grumbled for us to get a room.
***
I jumped out of my seat after the Rangers scored their first goal. Being a fake-Rangers fan wasn’t as hard as I would’ve guessed. Erik and I high-fived as he taught me the Rangers’ goal scoring song.
It was fun and saddening all at once, with the time on the scoreboard clicking down to the end of our weekend.
***
On the subway between Madison Square Garden and my hotel, Erik and I were snuggled up tight like two peas in a pod. We kept switching between kissing and looking deeply into one another’s eyes, paying no real attention to the disgusted looks thrown our way. I suddenly realized we were just like those obnoxious people who fondled each others’ wrists during long soulful gazes in Toronto cafés.
Which made me a traitor now.
Which I was perfectly okay with.
***
On what was now a cold and windy night, Erik and I stood at an intersection near my hotel.
I looked left, right, and behind me. Then I was utterly confused.
“Are you sure it was here?” he asked.
“Yes! There was a drug store RIGHT HERE. I saw it when I was here this afternoon. And I know it sold ice cream.” I sighed. “Where did it go?”
He laughed. “So you saw this store when you were on zero sleep and probably delirious?”
“Yes,” I said firmly.
“Okay, well let’s keep looking!”
This area of Midtown wasn’t the liveliest after eleven p.m., so I really started to wonder if I had indeed imagined this drugstore. A couple of blocks later with my hotel in view...it was there, and I almost walked right past it.
“Here!” I pointed inside.
He shook his head. “That is nowhere close to where you said it would be.”
“Don’t sweat the details. C’mon.”
I smiled and went straight for the freezer. The only thing that’s better than a guy? Ice cream...
***
We sat facing each other cross-legged on the bed, me in my pajamas and he in his boxers. Two cartons of ice cream sat between us. One was chocolate with a whole bunch of other awesome junk in it, and the other vanilla, with the same amount of similar assorted junk.
We each took a spoonful from a carton.
And fed each other.
If anyone else had been doing this, I would’ve told them what cheesy losers they were. But since it was me it was totally okay.
Hypocrisy is great!
“Mmm...” we both said.
In between bites I studied his shirtless chest and couldn’t help but lick my lips. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Nope. I have exceptional body heat.”
“Ah, like a monkey.”
He looked like he was about to launch a spoonful of ice cream in my hair. “Don’t even think about it,” I said. “There will be no food fight of any kind.”
I looked down at the other flavour. “Switch?”
We continued our grown-up feeding. Smiles for miles...
***
Teeth were brushed and the lights were now off. Behind the wall of darkness, Erik and I snuggled under the blanket.
We kissed for a while but I eventually pulled away.
“We’re both stupid idiots you know. You realize this, don’t you?”
He rolled over on top of me, slowly tucking my hair behind my ears.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is...if we weren’t stupid idiots, we would’ve started de-programming by now.”
“Excuse me?”
I sighed. “Basically there are Chinese computer programmers that live in each person’s brain.”
He smiled. “Well everybody knows that.”
“Right. So whenever something stupid happens that can’t survive in reality...like two people starting something up when it’s already the end...”
He frowned.
“...The Chinese computer programmers living in your brain have to break up all the code! They have to de-program it all, so that by the end...it won’t matter anymore.”
He furrowed his brow as he thought of this unlikely “Chinese people living in your brain” scenario.
“So in our case,” I said. “The de-programming...if it works, means that by Monday morning when I leave...we’ll hate each other.”
“I’m supposed to hate you in thirty hours? But I don’t even dislike you. It’s the opposite of that.”
“That’s because the computer programmers in our brains are idiots! They flunked out of university or maybe they’re all just lazy. Or maybe they’re on an extended noodle break. Or...maybe they’re Indian computer programmers and they fell into a vat of curry.”
He laughed.
“Either way we haven’t de-programmed, which means goodbye’s gonna be a mess.” I frowned.
“So now what?” he asked.
“Start making me hate you, that’s what!”
He tucked some more strands of hair behind my ears. “Hmm...one of your ears is crooked,” he noted.
I was glad he couldn’t see me blushing in the dark, as I’d been self-conscious about my crooked left ear for years. This was a low blow, one that would ensure I would never be cool to him again. “First you call me drool-baby now this? Seriously piss off!” I pushed his hands away from my face.
“Don’t be mad, I like it. I even ha
ve a little fetish for circus freaks.”
I sat up in bed and immediately started climbing out, but he pulled me down and rolled back on top of me. “Romi, if you think I’m going to spend one second liking you less until we say goodbye...you’re an idiot.”
I was still pretty mad about the ear remark but I managed a smile, then more than a smile when he kissed me again.
I was counting these kisses now, with only so many left until goodbye...
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning at six a.m., I lay in bed with my limbs spread out like a starfish. Erik had left to get everything ready for our “mystery day trip,” and he wouldn’t reveal a thing. All I’d been told was to check out of the hotel by eight a.m. and meet him in the lobby. Once he arrived I’d be solely in his possession, for my final twenty-two hours in New York.
And then what?
Time was racing by uncomfortably fast, and I could no longer ignore how this was possibly the last day I’d ever see Erik. Like actually, officially...ever. The mere notion brought the beginnings of hot tears to my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away. A part of me wished he’d go home and realize his life wasn’t the same without me, but that was way too egotistical a thought to hang one’s hope on.
For now all I could do was have the best day yet, even if it meant being in denial until the final minutes.
Reality block-out, commence!
***
At eight a.m. I was standing in the hotel lobby as instructed, peering outside through the glass of the revolving door. My belongings were stacked against me so I didn’t take too much space, as hotel guests pushed past every second, on their way for some tourist fun or perhaps a Sunday morning coffee.
I kept looking for that rock-star hair and those black-rimmed glasses, but so far he was nowhere in sight.
My view of the street was suddenly obscured by a black Toyota that pulled into the circular entrance, stopping directly in front of the doors. The engine shut off and to my total delight it was Erik who emerged from the car. He was wearing an army-green hooded jacket and a thick black scarf on this freezing day, which reminded me of a warm fuzzy bear that I needed to cuddle...or something.
Not wanting to waste a second, I threw my bag over my shoulder and dragged my suitcase unsteadily behind me, as I practically ran out the door.
I dropped all my stuff and went straight into his arms for a giant hug. It was hard to imagine we’d only been apart for two hours.
“You’re taking me on a road trip?!” I said excitedly, as he finally pulled away.
“Yes!” he said, though his face suddenly changed into a frown. “Where is your hat? Before you left Toronto I told you to dress very warm for the surprise.”
I smiled and unzipped my messenger bag. “You mean this?” I pulled out a pink and purple wool hat, the typical Canadian kind with the long floppy ear-coverings.
He grabbed the ball of wool at the top of the hat. “And what is this for?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s the pom-pom and it’s obviously for show.” I took the hat back. “AND I have the matching scarf, AND I brought mittens, AND I’m wearing two pairs of socks with these fuzzy boots. So whatever cold thing you have us doing...I’ll be fine!”
He seemed satisfied, so he grabbed my bags and I followed him to the trunk. Instead of opening the trunk he turned to face me. “Get in the car,” he said. “I’ll take care of this.” I lurked around wondering what was in the trunk, but he didn’t move an inch ‘til I was safely out of view.
What’s he hiding? A corpse?
When he joined me inside the car I truly began to process the excitement of the day.
“I’m surprised you rented a car,” I said, as he started up the engine and checked the mirrors. “I just assumed we’d be taking a train somewhere.”
“You think I can’t drive in Manhattan?” He looked at me with all the swagger of a badass drag racer, and I couldn’t help but eat it up.
He finished with a sexy wink as he turned onto Fifty-First Street, which was exactly the moment when we practically got hit by a fish truck at full speed. The truck driver honked the horn for a full five seconds, which was the appropriate amount of time to shame us.
Erik went from drag racer to extremely embarrassed-looking guy, whereas I was just trying to calm down, from my life having flashed before my eyes.
This is going to be an interesting day...
***
A few minutes into the journey (a silent journey after our near-death experience), I studied Erik as he drove along Second Avenue, with signs for the Queensboro Bridge up ahead. He hadn't shaved this morning, which left him with alight brown stubble all along that gorgeous face, including the lines of his dimples which were currently at rest. If he wanted me to write more songs, I could probably write a seven-minute ballad about his dimples.
He turned to me and smiled.
Dimple-city!
“So you're just going to stare at me for three hours?”
“That's right, you fine piece of meat. Prepare to be objectified!”
I laughed manically as he switched on the radio. “Let's find you a distraction,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “You don't get it, do you; until it’s time to leave, the only person I can see or hear is you. Everything else is just a whiny middle child that doesn't deserve my attention.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Were you a middle child?”
I stared out grimly at the traffic ahead. “Maybe.”
He shook his head and smiled. “You really do have issues, don't you.”
And I'll have a million more once you're gone...
***
An hour into our journey on Interstate-495, Erik's mix CD of indie bands he’d discovered played loudly (bands that were miles better than any of the crap on the radio). It was great to listen to, but I found myself fidgeting in my seat. The more I fidgeted the more I questioned the idea of a three-hour drive (each way!) on our final day.
“Are we there yet?” I said annoyingly.
“Oh no, you are not turning into THAT.”
I smiled sweetly. “I just mean we're passing signs for what sound like really cute towns and they're not too far away, so if we went to one of those---instead of a three-hour drive---we wouldn't have to spend half our day in a car. We could actually be out there doing things!” I finally stopped to breathe and pointed to the rolling hills and trees in the distance.
Erik didn't say anything, but for the first time ever I thought he might be angry with me. I suddenly realized that sticking two people in a car when they had only known in each other on emotional highs may not have been the best idea. I also realized that my wish of having him hate me before I left to make things easier might actually come true.
Be careful what you wish for.
After seconds that felt like minutes, he cleared his throat to speak. “These towns don't really have what I'm trying to show you, but hey, it's your choice. So we can stop here, save time, and head back to the city early, or...you can trust me.”
I'd watched enough television shows to know this wasn't a choice at all, but more like a test I really didn't want to fail.
I sighed. “Sorry. I guess I just like knowing what's going on so I can be in control of things. And the options I know best are usually the ones that are right. Or so I think. Does that sound horrible?” I scrunched my nose.
He started to smile. “I think you're just afraid to try new things. So today...I'm going to show you how to broaden your horizons.”
Well that doesn't sound so bad.
I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Okay, I trust you. Now hurry up and drive, grandma!”
He laughed and we drove on, as I wondered where the road would lead...
***
Three hours of driving and one gluttonous pit-stop at a roadside diner later, I realized why he’d driven all this way.
The ocean.
We were in Montauk, New York, and had just pulled into a bi
g state park, which according to its sign, boasted two miles of uninterrupted Oceanside beaches.
As soon as we emerged from the car I put on my floppy-eared hat and started jogging, following any sign that would lead me to the beach. Moments later I put on my mittens, since the wind was especially fierce on this sunny but freezing day.
Erik called out after me but I kept my pace, not wanting anything to get in the way of me and the water. It’s not like I was a good swimmer, and I also had a phobia of packed beaches where you were pressured to be ninety-percent naked...but now? In the thick of winter? When I didn’t have to compete with skinny twenty-year-olds in thong bikinis or try to swim? It was my oceanic dream!
The unseasonably warm Friday in Manhattan hadn’t had as much of an impact here, as the rough grassy dunes on either side of me were mostly still covered in snow, with patches of tall brownish-green poking through.
When I made it to the clearing the impact of the ocean finally hit me. It was all I could see, from left, right, and beyond. My ears meanwhile were overwhelmed by the sound of crashing waves, so loud that I couldn’t hear Erik run up behind me, which made me nearly jump when he hugged me from behind.
“Let’s get a closer look,” he said. His mouth hovered over my ear as he spoke the words, which was either to help me hear what he was saying, or to make me remember what it was like to want him. In both cases, it worked.
I turned to him and smiled. He looked so hot with that army-green hood of his jacket framing his face. I was quickly realizing that Erik would look hot in just about anything, except for maybe a puffy pirate shirt. “I’ve never even seen the ocean,” I said.
He smiled. “Yeah, I already know.”
What the...
When I didn’t say anything he continued. “I asked Laura if you’d ever seen the ocean, and even though she wasn’t a hundred percent sure, we both assumed that you haven’t been out much.”
