Megan knew it was time to swallow her pride. She stopped to compose a message; Sofia’s beady eyes watched as shetyped away.
Hi Ashley,
Hope you’re okay? When are we going on that second date then?
“Is that too forward? Should I make small talk first?” Megan queried.
“No, that’s fine. It just shows you’re interested, there’s nothing wrongwith that.”
She felt uncomfortable—needy somehow—just by asking Ashley about plans that had already been agreed in theory. After hitting send, the gulpwas audible.
“What if she just doesn’t want to meet me again?” Megan felt foolish. “Or even worse, what if she recites some lame excuse like, I have to pick up my dry cleaning or I had to take this tiger to the vets because it got hit by a car. I will literally crawl under a rock.”
“A tiger? Really?”
Megan shrugged. “The first one is probably a little morerealistic.”
“Remember, I was there that night. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. There will be no such excuse, trust me.”
The confidence Sofia had in Ashley’s reply far outweighed her own.“We’ll see.”
Sofia linked her arm. “Shall we take a gondola ride and wait forher reply?”
Central Park was suggested by all New Yorkers as the perfect place to spend a summer’s day. The sight-seeing gondola rides around The Lake were one of many ways to do just that.
“Sure, why not.”
“That’s the spirit. Come on.” Sofia took off towards the boathouse, dragging Megan along with her.
8
Ashley
Ashley stared at the same four walls of her bedroom, admiring the intricacy of her favourite painting and then turning her attention to the laptop that was gathering dust on the new wooden desk. She’d had it specially made to fit the corner it currently housed, hoping that would give her some inspiration. Two months later, and the desk was rarely used, considering she aspired to be a writer, the time she spent staring at the laptop was greater than the time she spent typing on it. There was an element of self-belief needed, a quality Ashley struggledto manifest.
The idea of writing Nancy’s story excited her. It was a love that stood the test of time, true love at its finest and in Ashley’s opinion, it was one for the storybooks—a love that deserved to be written. The nervousness she felt was due to the self-doubt in her ability to do it justice. The ability to condense a lifetime of emotions and feelings into a two-page magazine article. It was possible; she’d seen it before. The way in which writers would tell a story so vividly, pulling on your heartstrings whilst keeping the wit that it takes to be a magazine writer.
Do you believe in soul mates?She would ask the reader.Is there such a thing as one person for each individual on the planet?The idea was something Ashley often laughed off, putting it purely down to an unrealistic storyline in the movies. This incredible, all-encompassing kind of love that defines us as people and makes everything else seem dreary in comparison. That was unattainable, at least for most. But what if Ashley could convince the good people of New York that it wasn’t? That every now and again a story makes you believe in fairy tales. The story of Nancy and Christopher might do just that. Maybe it was even enough to convince Ashley that true love was real—anything was possible.
Firstly, she had to tell the story. That required a number of things; silence, motivation and more background, the latter she needed Nancy for. After deciding she couldn’t proceed without some more information, the hour of procrastinating came to an end.
It was a Wednesday in June; the month was almost over. July would soon come around and Ashley despised the humidity that came with a New York summer. The locals would often go away on vacation and the touristswould flock.
The conversations with Megan had been brief, Ashley would be the first to admit that she was holding back. The fear of getting attached to someone who would leave in three days’ time made her do just that. She had avoided the idea of a second meeting for that reason, though the urge to message Megan had been uncontrollable, she found herself thinking about her often. It wasn’t until Megan messaged her that she realised whatever plan she was trying to hatch wouldn’t work, all it did was fill her mind with unknown possibilities.They could just be friends after all, right?Ashley hoped.
They both agreed to do something fun, Coney Island the choice. Neither had been since childhood, so it was the perfect last hurrah. They agreed to meet outside Ashley’s apartment, a cab was ready and waiting. In just under an hour, they were transported from the glitz and glam of Manhattan to the old-style amusement of Brooklyn’s Coney Island. On arrival, they admired the white and red wooden frame of the famous Cyclone rollercoaster stretching high above the sandy beaches below.
“Can you believe that was made in 1927?” Ashley informed.
“Seriously?”
“Yep! Apparently, it’s the second steepest wooden rollercoaster inthe world.”
Megan looked in awe at the rickety old fixture. “How is it even still standing?”
“I have no idea. I suppose that’s part of the fun, isn’t it.”
“What is? Wondering if I mightdie today?”
