Page 59 of Hate You to Love You

‘I have The Great Rom-Com Pilgrimage, and he has The Great Elliot Simpson Coffee Hunt,’ I say.

Over the next few weeks, we finalise the rest of our plans. Elliot and my parents let me take the lead on New York locations. I make note of the drycleaners that was once the exterior for the bookshop in You’ve Got Mail. There’s Katz’s Deli from When Harry Met Sally, Coney Island to ride the teacups and eat the hot dogs like in Uptown Girls, as well as a mandatory trip to the real Serendipity restaurant. Soon enough we have a trip mapped out from Seattle, New York, Chicago, Colorado, San Francisco and Los Angeles. Elliot is most excited for New York. I’ve lost track of the number of times he’s mentioned that he can’t wait to try the coffee from Devicon in Brooklyn. There was something about their beans being roasted in open air that made them some of the best in the city.

All the extra shifts I’ve taken at the studio make the time fly by, and it’s not long before we’re only weeks away from the trip.

‘There’s a Cheesecake Factory near the Los Angeles airport,’ Sal says, as we sit on the roof of The Terrace watching the sun fall beneath the horizon. ‘I fully maintain that if you buy me a slice it will survive the entire flight back home.

‘First Date’ by Blink-182 plays from a portable speaker. Another Sal pick. Laney passes the cheese board to Jones, who is lying on his back staring up at the sky, drinking a beer and nodding along to the song.

‘It’s coming up soon, mate,’ Jones proclaims. ‘How do you feel?’

‘It still doesn’t feel real,’ I tell him. Not just the trip, but who I’m going with. After years of hearing about the travel adventures Mum and Dad had been on, I had figured that phase of their life was over. Now we’d finally get to share a trip together. Elliot coming along was the cherry on top.

I lift up my legs and tuck my knees up to my chest as I stare out at the view. The sky is a fiery shade of orange even with the sun completely out of my field of vision, the sunset making everything golden.

‘Elliot!’ I hear Jones call out suddenly.

I look down and spot Elliot making his way through the front gate and into The Terrace. He quickly joins us up on the roof, where Sal greets him with a mug of wine.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ Elliot announces. ‘Work has been kind of crazy preparing all the handover stuff for while I’m away.’

‘Carlos has been updating us about your holiday,’ Laney says. She’s sitting on the highest point of the roof. ‘I’ve always wanted to visit New York for the High Line. I’m so jealous.’

Elliot tries to give Laney smile, but I notice it falter. He’s been working so hard lately; there are dark circles under his eyes and I doubt he’s had a proper meal all day. At least we have our break to look forward to.

The rest of the night passes with many more bottles of wine and talk of travel. Jones has always wanted to see the quokkas on Rottnest Island, while Sal declares that it’s his dream to visit Japan. Fuelled by wine and an optimistic outlook for the future, we split up and head to our rooms. But I can sense that something is up with Elliot. He’s been quiet all evening.

While I flop down on my bed, ready to pass out from all the wine we’ve had, he’s still pacing around my bedroom. At first he opens up his laptop, announcing that he’s got a few emails to catch up on. I try to distract him by revealing that I picked up a copy of S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders on his recommendation. But he’s unable to sit still and ends up moving around the room frantically.

‘Is everything all right?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ he answers, a little too quickly. ‘It’s just hard to switch off sometimes, you know?’

I sit up and move towards the edge of the bed, placing my hand on his arm and gently urging him to sit down. ‘Hey, in a few weeks, all of this will be distant memory. Think about that.’

Instead of looking relieved, Elliot stares down at me nervously. His lips tremble as if he’s about to confess something that he’s afraid to say out loud.

‘Elliot?’

‘I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it,’ he says suddenly.

‘Tell me what?’ I ask as I feel the threads in my stomach slowly coming undone.

He pulls his arm away from me and takes a step back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he adds.

‘Sorry? What’s going on?’

‘It’s about the trip. I can’t go.’

My entire body goes tense.

‘What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?’ I ask.

He gulps nervously. ‘I want to go, believe me. But something has come up with work. An opportunity in London.’

‘London?’

‘Every year Redhouse runs an exchange program where an employee from Sydney or New York gets the chance to work at head office in London. It’s an amazing opportunity, and I’d be surrounded by leading industry experts, and if it goes well they sometimes extend the program for another couple of years to foster longer-term career growth—’