“Me too, I guess.”
We take our time walking, being passed by typical New Yorkers shoving by and rushing. The worst is standing at the street corner waiting for the pedestrian sign to change because these people are so impatient and rude, and they stand right on top of you as if the few inches will make a difference in crossing.
“So, do you have any plans while you’re here? Statue of Liberty? Ground Zero? Brooklyn Bridge? Times Square?” Trey asks.
“No.”
“That’s… okay.”
“What?”
“Well, it’s New York. You seemed jealous of all the stuff Mack was showing off that he did the other day. Just thought maybe you’d be out doing stuff too.”
Nodding, I say, “New York is fine. It’s busy and different from what I’m used to, but I’m not sure I can handle being in this—” I gesture around us, “chaos…for a long period of time.”
“Ah, yeah… I get that. Crowds aren’t for everyone.”
Trey sips his coffee as we walk. I direct us when needed, turning down streets and avoiding crashing into people. I’d wanted to take a rideshare because I didn’t want to navigate these crowds, but as I see the way these New Yorkers drive, I get why Trey didn’t want to.
The restaurant is small, and we’re a few minutes late, meaning everyone else is already here. They make a scene when we walk in—getting to their feet and shouting for us as if we can’t see them taking up the entire back corner.
There are already a few appetizers on the table, with small plates in front of the guys with crumbs.
“You’re always late, Hudson. What’s up with that?” Paul says, reaching for a fry.
“We walked,” Trey says smoothly. “You know, taking in the sights.”
Trey and I sit at the last two open seats, side by side. His arm brushes mine, and I do my best to sit still, even though I’m already feeling on edge at how cramped the seating is.
“Well, hurry up and figure out what you want so we can order,” Mack grunts.
“You could have ordered without us,” I say.
“Andre wouldn’t let us,” Mack adds, eyeing Andre.
“I was just trying to be nice,” he says.
I pick up the menu and look it over. I’m starving. I had food delivered to my room, but it was early since I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Now I’m wishing I’d gotten more.
“So, how’s Dad life treating you?” Alex asks. “Kids being brats, I bet?”
“Actually, Rylee is very well-behaved,” Andre says. “Paul’s son, Maddox, on the other hand…”
Paul groans. “I thought we weren’t bringing that up?”
“I’m just sharing amongst friends,” Andre adds with a smirk.
“What did he do?” Trey asks curiously.
“He was suspended,” Paul deadpans.
“For what?” I ask.
“Apparently he and some other kids overturned a porta-potty during recess,” Paul says with a heavy sigh.
Everyone around the table bursts into laughter, but Paul’s cheeks are red from embarrassment.
“Are you kidding me? That is fucking hilarious!” Alex says, slapping the table, his eyes watering. His shoulder bumps Mack, who I’d normally expect to punch him. But he doesn’t. Nor does he say anything, which is… odd. Though maybe I’m just overthinking it.
