Cori sighs, a long, weary sound, but she doesn’t push it. “You can always come visit me. It’s forty minutes on the 7 train, Annie. It’s not the moon.”
“I know. But it won’t be the same.”
And it won’t be. The apartment’s going to feel empty without her. No more pointe shoes hanging on the backs of doors,no more bobby pins scattered on every surface, no more Cori padding around in her giant sweatshirts at two in the morning because the baby’s making her hungry again.
She’s moving back in with her parents. They insisted. Her mom’s going to watch the baby while Cori goes back to college. She’s got a whole built-in support system, ready and waiting. I try not to let the envy twist too sharply in my chest. What would that even feel like? Parents who rearrange their whole lives just to catch you when you fall? A safety net instead of an endless free-fall?
“Have you found anyone to take your room yet?” Marcus asks around another mouthful.
Cori shakes her head. “Not yet. But my dad offered to cover my portion of the rent until we do.”
“It better not be someone weird,” Marcus says. “I have standards, Cor. Minimal, but they exist. For example, no mimes. Or anyone who collects taxidermy.”
“Hey! I did a pretty good job picking Annie!” Cori defends.
“The jury is still out.” Marcus gestures at me with a half-eaten taco. “Look at her! She’s a mess.”
I shove his shin with my foot. “You’rea mess.”
He smirks. “At least I’m not seasoning my carnitas with my own tears.”
“Give it time.”
We fall into a comfortable silence then—well, as comfortable as silence gets when your best friend is moving out, your maybe-boyfriend’s ex just reappeared, and you’re eating street tacos on a Sunday night in a too-small apartment that suddenly feels even smaller.
“I don’t want anything to change,” I say softly.
“I know,” Cori murmurs.
“But itischanging.”
“Yeah.”
“And I hate it.”
“I know that, too.”
Marcus reaches over and gives my ankle a squeeze, his hand warm and surprisingly steady. “For what it’s worth, I think Leo’s crazy about you. Like, genuinely crazy. Like, he’d probably fight a bear for you if one wandered into Central Park.”
“There are no bears in Manhattan.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Whatisthe point?”
“The point is—” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “The point is what he has with you, it’s definitely not something you throw away for an ex who walked out eight months ago.”
I want to believe him. I want it so badly my chest aches with it. There’s one taco left in the foil bag, its wrapper crinkled and shiny. Cori and Marcus both lunge for it at the same time, their hands colliding in a clumsy tangle of fingers and sauce.
“Let go, you vulture!” Cori hisses, her knuckles white.
“You’ve had four already!”
“I am literally constructing a human spine, Marcus! I’m eating for two!”
“That’s not how it works—”
Cori wrenches it free with a triumphant grunt and clutches it to her chest like a Super Bowl trophy. Marcus slumps back against the couch, defeated, his flannel shirt riding up at the hem.
