“That’s true. And clearly you also like the Edge. Judging from how many pictures you’ve posted to Instagram so far.”
“I didn’t say that I wouldn’t like it. I just said I thought it was overpriced. A tourist trap.”
“Eh, that’s true. But if people are willing to pay, doesn’t it mean that it’s priced correctly?”
“How very capitalist of you.”
Eunjin shrugged. I could tell she wanted to say something, that it was just on the tip of her tongue, but she held back.
“What is it?”
“I’ve always wanted to come here, to the Edge. I like feeling like I’m higher than everything else. In a way, it makes me feel safe, because I can see all my surroundings. Maybe it’s because I grew up around cats. It’s very catlike behavior.”
“That is very catlike behavior.”
“But anyway, I wanted to come as a celebration for something. Because otherwise, I wouldn’t want to pay for the ticket.”
“Oh, I see. Like I said, it’s overpriced.”
I looked over at her. She was staring west, at the Hudson River, away from me.
“So are you going to tell me what you’re celebrating?”
She turned to look at me. Her eyes were glassy. Was she about to cry? No, it was probably just the wind.
“I got into MDW.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “It’s okay if you don’t remember what it is. I mentioned it a long, long time ago and never brought it up again. But it’s a conservatory in Austria. In Vienna.”
“Oh. Wow.” This time, I averted my eyes. “I mean, wow. Congratulations.”
“And I accepted the offer.”
I hugged her; and not one of the half-assed hugs I gave when a friend I saw frequently approached me with their arms spread out, but a real hug that lasted more than three seconds and included a squeeze and everything.
“Wow. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“I knew you were destined for greatness. So I can say I’m happy for you, but I’m not at all surprised.”
“Thank you.”
I didn’t know what else to say. My cheeks tickled from the breeze hitting my face. The sun had come out from behind a cloud and I lifted a palm to shield my eyes.
“I thought you were going to Juilliard.”
“I was. And I thought about it, but I don’t know. I’m just feeling a little tired of New York these days. Everything here just feels so…commercialized. Even the things that aren’t supposed to be commercial. I don’t blame the artists themselves. The city is so expensive that of course you have to care about money. But I think four years for me here was enough.”
During freshman year, we liked to look up apartments on StreetEasy together, arguing whether the East Village or Brooklyn was better for a new graduate. The plan was always that Eunjin would go to Juilliard and I would be at Harvard, so I could visit her on the weekends and sublet the other bedroom when her roommate, another Juilliard student, would go home for the summer. I couldn’t help it now. The tears fell down my eyes and onto my sweater. A couple even made it to my shoes.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wiping my nose with my sleeve. “I’m really not trying to make this about me, I promise. I am so, so, so happy for you. I want you to have everything you could possibly ever want. I’m just sad I’m not going to be able to see you all the time anymore.”
“I know, I know.” She looked down at her feet. “I’m sad about that too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I mean, I’m not mad or anything. It’s just, I’m surprised you didn’t mention it.”
“I just, I didn’t even know if it was going to be a thing, if I was even going to go. I applied under the assumption that I’d still choose Juilliard. But whenever I thought about potentiallymoving to Austria, I’d get this feeling of fear but also excitement. And I realized I couldn’t let fear be the reason behind my decision. So I did another exercise. If I took fear out of the equation, what option would I choose? And the answer was obvious at that point.”
“But still, why didn’t you tell me? I mean, you were there with me through all my grad school stuff. I wish I could’ve been there to celebrate your grad school stuff.”
