been grounded for two straight months when his parents tracked his phone and realized that he wasn’t at a study group, like he’d told them, but at Jones Beach at a concert. I’d checked my parents’ phones—both of them had the same password, it was honestly embarrassing—and found they had tracking apps installed so they could make sure I was where I said I was. As soon as I’d seen that, I realized I had to think one step ahead, and was now always careful to leave my phone where I told them I’d be, so that if they did track it, all they would see was that I had been telling them the truth. It was sad, this lack of trust. I mean really.
“I’m actually going to leave it with you,” I said, holding it and saying a silent goodbye for just a moment before setting it down on the coffee table. Even though I knew I had to do this, it was always hard to part with my phone. And despite the fact that I could use Ophelia, it just wasn’t the same. “Would you mind posting a Story or two? Just so that there’s incontrovertible proof I was here. And if my mom or anyone texts, just call Stevie and I’ll tell you what to text back. My lock code is 1717.”
“No problem,” Teri said. She clapped her hands together. “Have the best, best time. And if you think you see a celebrity, take a picture!”
“For sure,” I assured her. “Say hi to Ryan for us.”
“And you have a good time too,” Stevie said, grabbing her long black puffer and tucking her clutch under her arm.
“Oh, it’ll be a quiet night in for me,” Teri said, waving at us as she curled up on the couch. “I’ll see you guys in a few hours.”
“We’ll probably be back by midnight,” Stevie said.
“Or one,” I said as I put on my navy coat with its wooden toggles and faux-fur-lined hood. Stevie raised an eyebrow at me and I just shrugged. “It’s New York!” I said, trying for breezy. “Who can say what’s going to happen?”
We waved to Teri, then left the guesthouse and darted across the back lawn of the Tsai house. Stevie had parked a ways up the street, better to deflect attention.
As though we’d discussed it, neither one of us spoke as we ran across the lawn and then out to the street—it would have been the actual worst to be busted before we even had a chance to do anything.
It was like I could practically see our night stretched out ahead of me, and just the anticipation of it was making me smile. We were going into New York City, at night, all dressed up, just the two of us. We were going to celebrate Stevie in style. I was going to give her a great birthday dinner. And I was also going to make sure that for both of us, the rest of the year was going to work out. It was going to be an adventure, and it had been far too long since we’d had one of those.
We got into Stevie’s car and slammed our doors at the same time. Stevie looked over at me and grinned as the interior lights started to fade down. “Are we really doing this?”
I smiled back at her. “We really are.”
“Here we go then,” she said as she signaled and pulled out onto the road.
“And anyway,” I said as I reached for my seat belt and snapped it in, “we’re just going into the city for a few hours. What’s the worst that could happen?”
PART TWO 4:15 p.m.–5:25 p.m.
This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
—William Shakespeare, King Lear
CHAPTER 5
The stops along the Metro-North New Haven line were the familiar background noise of all my train rides into the city. The list of stops was kind of like the list of state capitals—I knew them all but could only get the order right when I recited them. Putnam, Winthrop, Old Stanwich, Stanwich, University, Waterside, Hartfield, Port Chester, Rye… and on and on until 125th Street and then the tunnel into Grand Central, which was always the sign that it was time to get your things together, put on your coat, and grab your bag, because the train would be making its last and final stop, at Grand Central Station.
There were five train stations dotted around Stanwich, and the trains ran into Grand Central and