Bryson claps his hands.“Molly, it’s going to be so fun, we’ll have a barbecue and the fireworks and drinks, the whole nine yards.I’m not going to force you, but I think you and Carleigh should come and have a good time with us.”
“Hm.”I can hear the amusement in Molly’s voice, and know immediately what her response is going to be.I also know that Molly’s going to make Bryson work for it a little.
“Hmm yes, or hmm no thanks?”Bryson presses.
“Few follow up questions.When’s the last ferry out of Jersey City to Manhattan?Or, do you have a place for us to sleep?Carleigh and I are ladies accustomed to a certain lifestyle, you know.”
Bryson laughs.“Paulus Hook stops running around nine on holidays, I think, but you can get downtown from Harborside ‘til about 11:30.But all of us usually crash at my buddy’s Quinn’s parents’ house - they’ve got a pretty big place and they’re normally out of town for the fourth, so they let us have the run of it.If you’re alright sharing, you guys definitely will be sleeping in a bed.”Bryson catches my eye and winks.I bite my lip and smile back.“That meet your approval, Miss Molly?”
“I suppose,” Molly says slowly.“One more question: will there be beer pong, and if so, will there be anyone there who’s up to the challenge of playing me?”
When she says yes, I shudder.How am I going to spend an evening surrounded by people, drinking, and keep myself from staring at Bryson.This is not a good idea.
“Weak,”I say accusingly, as I stalk around my bedroom, searching for the sunscreen that I know is here somewhere.“You’re weak.One mention of a good time, and you sell us out for a night in New Jersey.”
Molly beams at me from where she’s sitting, cross-legged, atop my mattress.Her overnight bag sits on the floor near the door with a floppy hat resting on top.I, however, am not done packing, because I got sidetracked proofreading an email to send to a professor and ended up redrafting part of the paper I was asking him to read, and now I can’t find my damn sunscreen.
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun.You knew we were going the second you phoned me.”
Okay, that’s mostly true.“Not my fault Bryson’s persuasive.”
Molly cocks her head to the side, looking not unlike a curious Golden Retriever.“Oh, are you finding it hard to resist those baby blues?”
I throw a rejected tank top at her.“Shut up.None of that, okay?We’re friends.”
“Carleigh, he looks at you like you’re made of like … moonlight.”
“He looks at everyone like that.”I open my top drawer for the fourth time, digging around again, and then finally - “Success!Found it.”
“Great.”Molly shuffles to the end of the bed and grabs my backpack, zipping it open.“Now come on, throw it in here, and - why do you have running shoes in here?”Molly digs in a bit deeper.“And a sports bra, and shorts, and - it’s the fourth of July.”
I glare at her and snatch the bag away, shoving everything back in.“And my training schedule says I have to run twelve miles tomorrow.If I wait until we’re back in the city, it’ll be too hot.So, I’ll have to do it in the morning.”
“You’re crazy,” Molly declares, but doesn’t argue.She slides off the bed, grabs her own bag, then opens my bedroom door.“We’re ready!”
Bryson is waiting in the kitchen near the entranceway, prodding at one of the new entries at the fermentation station.“Oh hey, only twenty-minutes late!”he says, pointing at the clock on the microwave.“Not too bad for Carleigh.”
“Hey,” I object weakly, but even I know it’s a futile protest.I do have a bit of a punctuality problem.But I’m working on it.Kind of.
“Aw come on, I’m just teasing.”Bryson reaches out and squeezes my shoulder, then opens the apartment door and holds it for us.“Let’s go, ladies, we haven’t got all day.”He flashes a goofy grin at me as I pass by.“Might have to fit in some autograph time, actually.People on the ferry are going to think I’m a big deal, showing up with you two!”
I roll my eyes affectionately at him and intentionally ignore Molly’s pointed smirk.I slip my other arm through my backpack straps and hoist it comfortably onto my shoulders, then lead the way through the hallway, down the stairs and onto the street.
Three hours later,I have to admit that I’m having a pretty good time, sitting on the edge of a red brick step with a bottle of cherry kombucha in my hand.My back to the door of the house we’re staying in, talking to a girl named Sawyer, who is apparently one of Bryson’s friends from high school.Nearby, there’s a raucous game of beer pong going, and just past that, a game of ladder golf.It’s a pretty spacious yard, at least for Jersey City, but something tells me this group of people would find a way to have a good time even if there wasn’t a backyard at all.
I’ve met a lot of different people since showing up with Molly and Bryson a couple of hours earlier, but I only remember a few names: Quinn, obviously, who I’ve met before and whose parents’ house they’ve apparently commandeered, Sawyer, and Max.They’ve been nice and welcoming, and mercifully only a few of them seem to be on Bryson’s level of positive chaos.
“So, you’re from Massachusetts, I think Bryson said?”Sawyer asks.“How do you like New York?”
“Missouri, actually,” I say.“I grew up in St.Louis.I went to school in Massachusetts, though.”
Sawyer smiles.“Bryson told us you did your undergrad at Harvard.”
“Oh, I - yeah,” I confirm, feeling a brief flush of heat in my cheeks.“I moved to New York a couple of years ago for grad school, and I love it.It’s probably my favorite city in the world.Never a dull moment.”
“Especially, now that you’ve got Bryson as your roommate, I bet,” Sawyer jokes.“You must have the patience of a saint.I love Bryson, he’s the nicest guy around, but I can’t imagine he’s easy to live with.”
As if on cue, Bryson chooses that moment to amble away from the ladder golf setup, where he’d been engaged in active commentary of a seemingly contentious game between two guys named Royce and Bishop.“Hey, I heard my name, Krishna!”he hollers, as he strides up.“Don’t be telling her lies about me!”