in those shoes—and then a second later, disappeared.
Stevie and I looked at each other for a moment. “Okay, what just happened?” she asked.
“I know,” I said, starting to laugh. “She seemed… interesting.”
“Yeah, that’s one word for it.”
“But it is cool that we bumped into someone! I feel like that’s always happening in New York movies and shows but I never believed it was real.” I held up the hundred-dollar bill. “And we made some money off it too!”
Stevie laughed and shook her head. “Let’s just get this over with.” As if on cue, her phone beeped from inside her bag, and she pulled it out. “Mallory just texted her address,” she said. “Somewhere called Murray Hill? It’s on Thirty-Seventh Street, at any rate.”
“So that’s probably pretty close to the theater district,” I reasoned. “Since that’s around Forty-Second. We’re not going too far out of our way, and we’ll still have more than enough time before the play.”
“Great,” Stevie said, looking relieved. “Let’s get this done and then we can be back on track. Just let me figure out trains.”
“No need!” I said, flashing the hundred again, and then a second later, worrying that maybe I shouldn’t do that. “We’ve got cab fare!” I started to walk toward the nearest exit I saw, Stevie following behind me. I heaved open the heavy door, with its brass handle, then held it for her.
I stepped outside and there it was—New York. Horns were honking, crowds of pedestrians were surging forward into the intersection as they crossed against the light, and a man, his guitar case open, was singing an enthusiastic but off-key rendition of “Dancing in the Dark.” The light changed and blurs of yellow cabs sped forward, as all around us, crowds of people streamed past, scrolling through their phones, walking fast and frowning, talking to people they were with, or grooving along to the music only they could hear in their earbuds.
I looked up—at the sliver of sky you could see in between all the tall buildings, the way the whole world seemed to have been stretched higher than anyone had ever thought to make it back home.
It was cold out, with that damp bite in the air that had always, always meant snow—like a promise for later, if only you were patient. I zipped up my coat as I took it all in, the two police officers in blue on the corner, the flashing ads on top of the taxis, the bus stopping across the street and lowering itself with a hiss to let people on.
I turned to Stevie and gave her a spontaneous hug, squeezing her tight.
“What?” she asked, even as she hugged me back.
“New York!” I said, gesturing to everything around us, not caring if it made me look like a tourist. “We’re here!” I felt like doing a spin—if I’d had a hat, I might well have thrown it into the air. I strode forward, full of confidence, and stepped off the curb, putting my hand out. “Taxi!” I yelled, even though I knew real New Yorkers didn’t actually do this.
“Taxi line’s back there,” a passing woman in a suit said without stopping, nodding toward the corner. I could now see that there was a line of people with suitcases and a sign that read TAXIS.
“Thanks,” I called after her, but she’d already crossed the street and was out of earshot.
“We can just take the subway,” Stevie said as she got into the taxi line and I hurried over to join her.
“It’s more fun this way,” I insisted. And it was—as long as we made it to Mr. Campbell’s play with more than enough time to spare, having a mini adventure—even if it was only to return a lost wallet—sounded good to me.
“But will they take the hundred, though? Don’t people hate to change them?”
“I think they have to,” I said with confidence as we moved up a step. “It’s currency, after all. It won’t be a problem.”
* * *
“No hundreds,” the cabdriver said, shaking his head and pushing the bill back through the plexiglass partition.
We had arrived at Mallory’s. It hadn’t taken long—Murray Hill was a few blocks from Grand Central—but traffic had been almost bumper to bumper. Our fare came to eight dollars, and the driver sighed audibly when he saw what I was trying to pay him with.
“Don’t you have to take it?” I asked, trying to remember where I’d heard this. “Because it’s, you know, legal tender?”