“Yeah, I am. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I really like her. I woke up thinking about her and haven’t been able to stop,” I say, wiping my palms on my hips. Marc detects the motion but doesn’t call me out on it. “I’m so into her, but I don’t know what she feels for me. I don’t want to ask because I don’t want to make things weird or make her feel like she needs to tell me what I want to hear because of our arrangement.”
He clicks his tongue, eyes incredulous and mouth dropped so low, it could touch the concrete. “Jesus, Sylas.”
“I know.” It’s freezing as shit out here, but I can’t stop sweating.
“This has nothing to do with me, but it’s still stressing me out. I really need a cigarette.” He removes his beanie and drags his fingers through his black hair.
“You have gum. Use it.” I grab two pieces, remove the foil, and pop them in my mouth. Gum will never be the same; I can’t even chew it anymore without thinking of her. “I don’t know what to do.”
Marc accepts he’s not going to get a cigarette and slips the stick into his mouth. “This is shit.” He chews aggressively.
“I know. The cubes are better, but this is easier to carry.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, making me feel uneasy, but then he blows a bubble and stifles a laugh. “Get your shit together. You’re never like this. Just talk to her. If you have feelings, I’m sure she’s developed them too.”
I attempt to conjure every ounce of nonchalance from within. “I don’t know. She doesn’t do boyfriends.”
“But she’s sure doing you,” he replies simply, giving me a pointed stare.
I huff. “That’s different.”
“It’s not. Talk to her. You’ve never been afraid to say how it is. Don’t start now.”
“I know…”
I’m a confident person, but right now, I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, and it’s stupid to feel like this, but it’s the effect she has on me.
It’s strange how one girl can make everything—correction: makemecrumble.
“You sure know how to complicate things.” He doesn’t bother to hold back his laughter this time. “Don’t stress. I’m certain she’s into you as much as you’re into her.”
I’m hoping he’s right.
I meet Anna at the Columbus Circle holiday market.
She looks casual but pretty, wearing a cream-colored puffer jacket, a red-and-white-striped scarf, and light denim jeans that hug her hips and thighs. She’s wearing glasses and her hair is wavy instead of its usual straight style.
I aim for calm and cool when I stop in front of her, but her lips curl into a smile that’s now engraved in my head, and then I get a hint of perfume: apples, cinnamon, and maple. It smells good. I discreetly inhale and do it again because I can’t get enough of it or her.
It must cloud my thoughts because before I know it, I’m blurting, “You look really pretty and you smell good too.”
Her cheeks, already slightly pink from the chill that nips at them, are a shade darker. She brushes her bangs away, grinning sheepishly. “Thanks. You think I look festive enough?”
I slowly take her in again, absorbing every inch of her. My heart patters rapidly and my palms sweat again. “Super festive. I like your earrings.” I glance at the red bells that hang from her bow earrings and the other tiny hoops and studs that decorate her ear. “Do you have an earring for every day, or what?” I tease.
She touches them. “And holiday. I feel naked if I don’t wear them.”
I grin, making a mental note of that. “Ready to check out the booths?”
She’s not cleaning for me anymore, and after I told her I’d never been to a holiday market, she demanded we come to one.It wouldn’t take much convincing on her part because I’d do whatever she asked.
After all, she’s my girlfriend. It’s my job to take her out on dates. Do what she wants, when she wants.
“How have you been living in New York for as long as you have and never been to one?” she asks as we stroll into the market side by side.
“My parents, especially Mom, have never cared for them. I’m sure you can imagine what she thinks of them.” I tuck my hands in my pockets, not because I’m cold but because they won’t stop sweating. I can’t believe this is what a crush feels like. “And I guess living here for so long, I’ve become jaded to it all. If I wasn’t in school or training, I was in Colorado snowboarding or in the tropics or something.” I’m not trying to brag, but it’s just what I did, and I wanted to be away from all the bright lights and decor.
“Or something?” she asks, poking my side. She didn’t make a comment about my parents, but I’m sure she’s thinking about it.
