Four Summers - By Nyrae Dawn Page 0,82

morning, okay? We’ll do Times Square.”

Charlotte replies with a nod.

I wonder why I haven’t told her I’m going to Columbia. That we’ll only be an hour and a half train ride from each other. Reaching out, I touch her hair. “I’m glad you’re here, Star Girl.”

Pulling my hand back, I turn and walk away.

I’m exhausted from taking the train into the city again. I don’t know how Dad does it, but it’s worth it because I still can’t believe Charlotte is here.

She’s waiting outside her hotel when I get there. I have to do a double take because, standing there, she looks more like the Charlotte I remember than she did yesterday. For the first time, I see her legs again, all smooth and tanned in the jean shorts she’s wearing.

And a tank top. I love her tank tops. It’s yellow just like the swimming suit from the first summer and the bikinis from our second and third. It’s a stupid thing to remember. I’d probably be embarrassed if it was anyone but her.

“Hey.”

She’s smiling so big that it takes everything inside me not to kiss her.

“Hi.”

“You ready?” I ask.

“Yep.”

We take another subway ride and walk to Times Square.

I almost never come here. If people think the city is busy, they've never visited Times Square. Tourists everywhere and so many people it’s almost impossible to breathe.

“Holy crap, it’s crazy here.” Her voice is a little unsure, so I grab her hand.

“I got you. You have to learn to shove your way through.”

I make way for both of us as we work through the throng of people. It’s loud and there are lights everywhere even though it’s daytime. I should have taken her at night, so she could see even better how it lit up. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that.

We watch the screens and go into shops and stores. Charlotte asks questions, reminding me how she likes to know so much about everything. And still, we’ve hardly seen half of it.

“How far is Central Park?” she asks.

“You wanna go? We can. That’s why I came early today. There’s still stuff to see here, too.” It’s only noon right now so we have some time.

“I’ve always wanted to see Central Park,” she says.

I didn’t know that about her. “Yeah. Let’s do it. We won’t be able to see the whole thing, but we have some time.”

We head toward Central Park. The whole time I’m wondering if she thinks some parts of it will remind her of home. If that’s why she wants to see it so badly.

When we get there, we grab some food at a little stand before walking into one of the huge grassy areas. We sit on the ground and she crosses her legs, taking a bite of her sandwich. “I think I could live here,” she finally says.

“You’re going to in a couple months, right?” It’s still crazy for me to think about.

“Yeah, but I mean here. In the park. It’s amazing, Nate.”

“Eh. Probably not a good idea to live here, but you’re going to freak out when you see the rest of it.”

Charlotte watches a bike go by before saying. “Dad’s been paying me a little and I’ve done some odd jobs. I’ve been saving up since last summer for this trip. Well, I guess I didn’t know what it was for at the time, but I was putting money away for something. I can’t believe I’m really here.”

“I can’t believe you are, either. How’d it all come about? Going to school here and stuff?”

She sets her sandwich down and lies down on her back. “I wish it was nighttime. Most of our talks are under the stars.”

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I lay down next to her, leaning on my elbow. “Close your eyes and pretend.” Lightly I set my hand over her eyes. Her lashes brush my palm, so I pull away. It’s such a little thing, but I love how she trusts me, even in something as simple as this.

“I’m scared to mention it because everything came about after that night,” her voice whispers.

A fist tightens around my chest, but I ignore it. “You can tell me anything, Star Girl. You know that. That’s why I don’t understand—”

Her eyes jerk open. “It’s not me. I would tell you if it was.”

“So tell me the rest.”

She closes her eyes again. “I missed you so much, Nate. It was different than when you left all the other years.