“Would you ever ask someone to punch you in the face?”
“Why would I do that?” I ask.
“That’s essentially what you’re asking me to do,” she says.
“I want to see if Buzz Lightyear is there,” I insist. “Let’s just swing by and check.”
“‘Just swing by and check,’ he says,” Rooney mumbles. She shakes her head and barrels past me as I follow her. “This goes against everything I know to be true.”
I think for a moment, recollecting our conversation from the jazz bar. “What if your string-soulmate—is that what you’d call them?—is in Times Square at this very moment?”
“I highly doubt that,” she says with a grunt. “And I call them stringmates. But not plural. Just one. One stringmate. That’s it.” She purses her lips and looks away from me. Is she blushing?
“Right. Stringmate. Maybe the fact that you don’t want to be there means that you should be there. To see what fate has in store.”
Rooney looks back at me with curiosity. “Are you back to testing fate?”
I consider this. “Why not? Another way to test fate is to… say yes to something you normally wouldn’t.”
Rooney is quiet for a beat. “I played along earlier so why stop now? The only way I’m doing this is if we move quickly and you don’t stop for photos.”
I feel a small smile form. “Sure. No photos, plural. But maybe just one.”
Times Square is a vibrant and bright intersection with restaurants, theaters, and shops. It’s the heartbeat of a city that I’m certain, despite the slogan, does fall asleep. Billboards featuring the latest shows and music hang above us. Digital signs flash and vie for our attention. It’s sensory overload as we wind around tourists taking photographs and holding Playbills.
“I can’t believe I almost missed this because of you!” I shout to Rooney over honking cars and music blasting from street vendors.
She stays close to me, keeping her arms tucked to her sides. “You’re enjoying this?”
“I feel alive!” I shout, lifting my hands in the air. I take in every sign and Broadway marquee. “Rooney! Come here!”
“Do you see Buzz?” she asks, her expression hopeful.
I grab Rooney by the shoulders and spin her around to face me. “Don’t look now.”
“What is it?” she asks, panicked. Slowly she turns around and bursts into laughter when she sees the Red Lobster restaurant sign. “You’re sick.”
“You’re safe with me, Lobster Girl.”
Rooney smiles and rolls her eyes. “You really love this that much? If you’re okay with getting punched in the face, you okay with getting kneed in the groin?”
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” I say.
Rooney leads me into a souvenir shop where the windows are lined with T-shirts featuring catchy slogans and the “I Heart New York” logo. Half a dozen racks showcase hats, mugs, stickers, licenseplates, and keychains, all trying to capture the essence of New York City.
Rooney holds up a pen in front of her. “I used to have floaty pens as a kid! You don’t see them as much nowadays,” she says as she tilts the end of the pen toward the ground. She flips it upright and turns it to show me. I watch as the Empire State Building floats from the top of the pen down toward the tip. “My two friends met when one of them returned the other’s lost pen. Now they’re married. It looked like this but had the Leaning Tower of Pisa instead.”
“Who knew someone would care so much about a lost pen?” I shake a mini snow globe keychain. Glitter falls over New York City. “This has my name on it. Let’s see if they have yours.”
“You think they’ll have a keychain with my name on it?” she asks. “I’ll bet you a million dollars they don’t have it. Easiest money I’ve ever made.”
“There are some interesting names out there. You might be surprised. And if they don’t, it’s their loss in profit. You have a great name,” I say, searching carefully through the rack. “I’d buy all of the Rooney snow globes if I could.”
Rooney gazes up at me through her eyelashes and smiles. “Thanks. Apparently, it was an Irish ancestor’s name on JR’s side. JR is my biological father.” She runs a finger along the metal loops of the keychains. “It was generous of my mom to give him any input at all. My first name was decided before I was even born.”
This feels like a potentially loaded statement, but she’s still smiling and said all of this so nonchalantly. I decide not to make it a bigger deal by asking questions.
“I have a soft spot for snow globes and actually have a pretty extensive collection,” Rooney shares. “When my mom and I went on trips, we’d get one of the city we were in. Would your parents bring back souvenirs?”
