Page 55 of Pining for You

“Yep!” Audra says after a quick glance into the distance.

“She’s right!” Cash shouts, running back to the others.

“Told you!” Diya says, landing a playful punch on Izaac’s arm.

Audra gives me a knowing smile. “Listen, just… don’t forget that you’re not alone, okay, B?” she says. “Give yourself grace. This is really hard stuff, but you’re doing great. And don’t be afraid to reach out. Anytime.”

“Thanks, Audra,” I say, before my friends surround us again, and somehow, despite the heaviness of this topic, I’m light as a marshmallow again.

16

A few minutes later, with a renewed sense of optimism and relief that we’re getting our mission back in motion, I train the camera on Diya. She’s presenting us with another New York history lesson.

“The iconic subway globe was introduced in the 1980s, when a physical token was still the fare,” she says. “They were color coded at first—red, green, and yellow, like stoplights. Green meant someone was on site twenty-four hours a day to sell you a token, yellow meant someone was there part-time, and red meant exit only. That system has been phased out, obviously, so it’s really more symbolic now. A beacon, a sign that indicates that just beneath the surface of the street, travelers can find a portal to another place.”

“Pure poetry,” I tell her. “I’d applaud, but I’d drop the camera.”

Diya gives me a little bow before Izaac speaks.

“Well… I hate to be the one to break the news, but…,” he says, and doesn’t finish. Instead, he points to a plain sheet of white paper curled from the wet snow, which pronounces that the G train is indefinitely suspended. Apparently, we aren’t going anywhere.

“How? But… why?” Cash stammers. “This is barely even snow!”

People emerge from the station grumbling, and steam rises where the snow meets the warm underground. The whole scene has a vaguely apocalyptic thing happening. Not exactly the movie I had in mind.

“Could it be temporary?” Diya asks, pulling up the radar on her phone. “It looks like we have a little while before the storm gets heavy.”

“You know, I’m not sure I trust your trusty radar system,” Izaac says.

“It’s better than your trusty transportation system, clearly,” Diya shoots back.

“Wait, why is it mine?” he asks. “Two seconds ago, you were the one playing MTA tour guide.”

“It’s probably precautionary,” Audra says, ignoring us all. “Either way, I doubt this’ll be a quick fix.”

“Okay, Plan B,” Izaac says, consulting his phone.

“More like Plan Q,” Cash whimpers.

“What are our options?” I ask Audra, after their little bout of bickering tapers off.

“Well, we could try to take an Uber, but with the storm, it’ll be a struggle,” she says. “Can’t tell you how many times I’ve booked rides and then they cancel or straight-up ghost during bad weather.”

“Not to mention surge pricing,” Izaac adds.

“Which is no joke,” Audra agrees, and bites a short nail.

“We can’t walk?” I ask. “I mean, isn’t it all Brooklyn? Don’t people walk in the city?”

“Brooklyn is huge, B. If it were its own city, it would be the fourth largest in the country,” Diya says, again with her encyclopedia of New York notes.

“Whoa,” Cash and I say in unison.

Audra smiles at me kindly. “Sadly, it’s true. I haven’t even done a walk like that on a sunny spring day.”

“Right,” I say, feeling very stupid about New York living for the millionth time today.

I bite my lip because I wanted to offer some kind of solution, but the truth is, we’ve given it our best. I’m not even sure what I really want anymore. One half of me is still desperate to see Eve again, to chase those sparkles and believe in the possibility of a first kiss. The ultimate proof of Christmas magic.