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I laugh like mad, shower water sprinkling into my mouth.
It’s still there when I dry myself, and I smile like a total creep as I dress.
I try to focus on my online course, but it’s not working. The text notification makes me scramble for my phone.
Lu: Can you please take Pushkin out? I’ll be late. Tito and B are dragging me to a gallery party. Please, save me?
Me: I’ll walk Pushkin. Have fun. You need it, Lu.
I send a winking emoji, but my mood plunges below ground level.
For a change, Pushkin and I walk at a slow pace until it starts getting dark. I order Lu’s favorite burgers, bring them to the terrace, and whistle to Pushkin.
“It’s you and I, little guy,” I say as I unwrap one burger and set it on the ground in front of him.
Pushkin has the same taste as Lu, so he stuffs his mouth right away like he starved for a week.
“No manners, dude,” I say and unwrap the other burger.
Pushkin wears little shoes that look like tiger paws that Lu made for him so his claws don’t click against the parquet. He looks ridiculous, but I fucking love him so much right now.
On some level, I’m relieved Lu is out partying. After our little painting session, I need a whole lot of bravery to keep a straight face. I thought I’d have a heart attack the entire time, and it took all my willpower not to show it.
Yet, everything reminds me of Lu. The night sky, the terrace, the glistening windows of the Manhattan skyscrapers, the boats slowly cruising out in the river, the police sirens—the unmistakable sounds of New York City.
I need to figure this out,us. I need to find a way to stay here, but first things first, I need to undo a tangle of lies that Lu might not want to deal with.
Pushkin chomps loudly on the last piece of the burger, his eye patch skewed around his ear.
“All right, dude, gotta get a bit more gentleman-like, yeah?”
I pick up the wrapper off the ground and take off his eye patch as he licks my hand, then licks the ground where the burger was.
“You wish she were here too, huh?” I say, smiling at Pushkin for no reason.
Where is she right now? What is she doing? Who is she talking to? Is she smiling? Bored? Flirty?
My phone rings—it’s her—and my heart bursts into fireworks.
“Well, Tito left, so it’s officially girls’ night out with some of Becky’s friends,” Lu says, a little disappointed and without a greeting like we’ve just talked. “What are you doing?”
“Pushkin and I are eating burgers on the terrace.”
She huffs. “I wanna come home, but Becky complains that I’m spending more time with you than her.”
My heart warms at the words. “Is that bad?”
“No. But she’s jealous.”
“I’m jealous right now too.”
“Want me to come home?”
“I do. But I don’t want Becky to hate me.”
We go quiet for a moment, and I close my eyes, listening to her breathing.
“So, how’s dinner with Pushkin?” she asks.
