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Sixteen
It could be said that Holden is hard to get information out of on a regular day. But, during the three-and-some-change-hour train ride, he isimpossibleto get information out of. He’s tense and quiet and moody. Barely speaks four words to me. When I jokingly tell him how cool he’ll look wearing a helmet with the GoPro attached while competing, he turns a little green. I thought that was something people just say. But he legit turns green.
By the end of hour two, I’ve had it with the silence and the way he keeps jiggling his leg. I pull the bag of Hershey’s Kisses from my backpack and place five Kisses on the fold-down tray in front of him. Then I go back to watchingNightmare Next Door.
The Kisses sit there for all of twenty seconds before he picks one up and unwraps it. He doesn’t offer any words, but when he runs out, I replenish them five at a time until the bag is gone and the train ride ends in Penn Station, aka a literal hellmouth.
Holden finally speaks once we’re being shifted up the stairs by the exiting crowd. “How do we get out of here?”
I direct him through the overwhelming station with my hand on his elbow, until we’re on the corner of West Thirty-Third and Eighth. The event will be held at the Javits in a few hours, so we’re going to drop off our things at the hotel first. It’s just a matter of getting there. Holden fumbles with his phone, trying to order an Uber, but I lightly push it away.
“We can just walk.” The hotel is only a few blocks from here and we don’t have more than three bags between us, so I take off and hope Holden follows.
“So your dad hasn’t asked you to come visit?” He hides his frown from me by watching the cars zigzag down the street next to us. In the distance, a chorus of car horns start honking.
“Well, we’re not really on speaking terms.” When you move nearly four hours away from your child, speaking terms becomes a phrase and not a real tangible thing. “He mostly just sends money with the implication that I should visit him.”
“Are you just trolling him by coming here, then?”
I sidestep a puddle that stinks of garbage. “He doesn’t know.”
“My question still stands.”
I shrug. “I told you; I like the city.”
“Have you ever come with someone else before?”
“No, this is the first time.” I fling my arm out to stop him from continuing across the next street. Cabs and bikers zoom past, and a pigeon dares to waddle through filthy standing water before taking off into the air when a truck drives too close. “I already know you’ll taint the experience.”
“Maybe this will be the best trip and now you’ll only visit with other people.”
I smile grimly. “What does optimism feel like, Holden?”
He smirks down at me. “Like eating cake for breakfast.”
“I do love cake.”
Our hotel looms into view, squished between buildings that seem tall just for the sake of being tall. Holden retrieves the key cards from the front desk with little to no issue and we use the elevator to go the whole way to the twenty-third floor, where I realize I might have a moderate fear of heights, and we find our tiny room. With its dirty window overlooking the city, loud AC unit, and... one king-sized bed.
Holden frowns. “This isn’t right.”
My heart starts pounding to the rhythm of “We Will Rock You” by Queen. Their greatest hits album was stuck in the minivan’s CD player on the drive to the train station.
It’s definitely not right. Even though the bed looks like it could fit three average-sized adults comfortably, this bed is just one bed and not two like I had assumed, like I had told Corrine. This is not acceptable.
“Did your mom really book a room with one bed for you and Taj?”
“This was the recommended hotel for the competition. This might just be what was left.” He drops his bag next to the bed with a sigh. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Don’t. That’s gross.” I look at the compacted carpet. It’s designed in a way that makes it impossible to tell how dirty it is.
“You were going to do it.”
“Yeah, when I thought I was crashing your hotel reservation.Now that I’m taking Taj’s spot, there’s room for both of us.” Logically, I know I should be accepting his offer to sleep on the floor. I know I know I know. “Your cooties would die of exhaustion before crossing from your side to mine on a bed this big.”
“You assume my cooties are as nonathletic as you assume me to be?”
“I call it like I see it.” I smile, trying to slow down my racing heart. There’s nothing to panic about. I didn’t technically lie to Corrine. This change of plans was beyond my control. Do I even need to mention it to her? It’ll just unnecessarily cause tension between us, upset her. But the thought of her never knowing, or,worse, finding out... I don’t know if she’ll buy that I avoided telling her something to spare her feelings for a second time, even if it’s true.
