I'm just waking up, when my cell rings. My eyes feel a little gritty with sleep, but I know who it is, even before I flip open my phone.
"Nick! Cece just got a callback and I'm stuck in Santa Monica. We were roller skating on the Strand and she can't bring me back. Could you please come get me?"
Deep breath, exhale, shake my head, rubbing my fingers over my eyes. I gotta figure this out.
"Aw, come on Jess, I don't know if I have enough gas to get over there." Yeah, okay. I'm gonna pick her up, but I want to push her buttons a little bit. I mean, seriously, it's not like I'm her boyfriend or something.
"Just take money from the jar! How do you think I've been paying for groceries all month? Oh man, I need school to start up again. Come down, Nick; it'll be fun. You never go to the beach and summer's almost over. Please, Nick, pleeease?
"Can't you take the bus? It's almost rush-hour. The 10 is going to be a frickin' nightmare." Push, push, push.
"Oh come on, Miller! It'll take like 3 hours, plus transfers, and it's getting late and really?! You know Schmidt's at work and Winnie's not answering. And what about your car-less experiment last year? You barely lasted 20 minutes, you jerk!" He could hear the note of panic in her voice.
"You called Winston before me?"
"No. Please, Nicholas?" her voice taking on a hint of sandpaper and gravel, "I'll make it worth your while."
"Hey, yeah alright. Where are you?" I'm ignoring that little twinge of heat that clenches inside my stomach. I was going to pick her up anyway.
"I'll meet you at the pier. Bring your skates, son!"
"Not gonna happen, Jess. Lemme call you when I get there. 45 minutes maybe."
"Yes! I'll make you the best superhero cape when we get home. See you soon, pal o' mine."
The 10 West was hot and ridiculous and stop-and-go all the way. In the meantime, I cursed CeCe for being beautiful and Jess for getting to me every single time. Such a chump.
I can feel Schmidt and Winston giving me the side-eye all summer, since Caroline, since moving back. I know they're glad I'm home, but I think they are wondering what happened in the first place, why I caved so hard.
Jess and I have been hanging out a lot lately, since she and Russell broke up. She's usually at the kitchen table working or watching a movie when I get home from work.
We joke around while I'm making a sandwich, and she'll tell me about all the dumb things the guys did, clinking my bottle with her tea mug when she gets in a zinger. It's nice.
The day I told her I was moving out still freaks me out a little. I can't shake the way her eyes looked when she was talking to me, telling me all this stuff about love and being there for me. They were almost wet, from the steam in the bathroom or something, and there was this tenderness that made my stomach grip up in knots –– no one's ever talked to me like that before.
I started panicking. I was just so determined to see the thing with Caroline through, though –– I practically knocked against her as I pushed my way past, my skin prickly cold, still wet from the shower. I don't know. We've never really talked about it.
She slips into my dreams sometimes –– chalk it up to Sleeping Nick and let him deal with it. She's my roommate. We're good friends. What else could it be?
I luck out on a parking spot on Ocean near the pier, when this suit driving a BMW pulls away from the curb right in front of me. The meter is almost full. Yeah, that's right – you corporate sellout punk. I scrape together the rest of the coins from the seat, the carpet, the ashtray, and the pocket in the door, and check the clock on my phone while I call Jess.
"You're here! I'm right under the blue and white sign. There's a band setting up for this summer music series –– I bet you've heard of them, Royal Crown Revue?" My lips curl into a side-smile against the phone. She never has to know about my Swingers phase. Schmidty and I were such idiots. "See you in a minute."
I can see those legs all the way from the street where I'm walking. She's wearing these ridiculous high-waisted shorts; socks up to her knees, white roller skates. I take a deep breath, hold it –– one-two-three-four –– then exhale, with a scowl. My eyes are squinting in the sun that glazes off the golden water.
She doesn't hear me come up behind her and when I say, "You're not supposed to be here," in my throaty Batman voice, she spins around on her skates, startled, and the ice cream cone she's holding drips down over her fingers and wrist. "Gaah, Nick! That's so not funny! Look what you did."
She bends over, trying to keep the drips from getting on her frilly blouse, and starts licking her wrist so it doesn't run down her arm. "Here, help me!" She turns slightly, pushing her index finger into my mouth. I freeze up, and I'm tasting strawberry, cream and sugar, the salt on her skin. I can feel the curve of her finger as it drags over my teeth, against my tongue, her fingertip pausing on my lower lip. She's staring at me with widening eyes, her mouth slightly open, a puzzled look on her face; then pulls her hand away, exhaling a sharp breath. The sun is making her eyes an electric blue and I'm swimming in them, one second, two seconds, when she finally looks down, clearing her throat, a scatter of a smile on her lips. "Jess, I didn't mean it, that was stupid. Sorry." "No. No, no problem," she stutters. "Could you run over and grab more napkins from the stand?" I am grateful to be able to walk away. She doesn't need to see the after effects of that little episode. I feel kind of dazed. What was that?!
While she's cleaning up, I look out over the waves. I haven't been back to this beach since that night I jumped in the icy water, scared that there was something really wrong with me. It seems like a lifetime ago, but have I really changed all that much since I thought I was gonna die? I am the absolute worst.
"Hey, can you hold my backpack while I take my skates off?" She knots her skates and pulls on her shoes. "Let me carry those. You wanna walk around a little bit? Let the traffic die down." "Oh, yeah, definitely." I grab her hand, lifting her up from the ground.
We follow the crush of people heading toward the stage, and find an open spot by the pier railing. I look up toward the amusement park. "You know, I took extra money out of the jar. Wanna get weird?" "What do you mean?" I point up, to the clank-clank-clank and shower of screams drifting down over us. Her eyes begin to dance. "The only rollercoaster I've ever been on was a carnival at Waterfront Park. I was 10." "Girl, you are missing out. When you are riding this one, it feels like you are flying over the water."
We buy tickets at the counter, the notes of Bei Mir Bist Du Schön ruffling over our hair in the wind. "Do you want to see the band after?" I ask. "Yeah, I really like their sound." She climbs in first, and I slide in next to her. The attendant pulls the bar over our laps and she turns her head to look at me. "You scared?" I ask her. "You are," she replies and knocks her shoulder into mine. My hand rests against hers on the safety bar, and I look over her head at the water, slips of white foam cresting on the waves. For a second, I see the house, a little yard, bringing the kids to the rollercoaster on the weekends. The coaster is moving and I put my arms up, shouting everything out of me, but all I hear is "Never gonna happen," whispering over and over in my head.
When the cars come to a stop, she is smiling, laughing, and reaches over to give me a high-five. I play it off like nothing, I'm fine, business as usual. We reach the walkway and follow it up near the stage. The light is drifting into dusk and my mood matches the cold dark of the ocean.
Next to me, Jess shivers in her shorts and the cardigan she found in her backpack. "Come here, I got ya." I open up my hoodie and motion her close. I press my chest against her back, wrapping my arms around her, and zip her into me. (Don't think about anything. Don't be a creep, Nick.) Her hair, up in ponytails, fans out softly beneath my chin, and I'm breathing her in slowly, trying to steady my racing heart. She stands as still as I am, and says something but the music is so loud, I can't make it out. I lean down, until I feel her lips against my ear. "I said thanks, Nick. You're the best." I rub my thumb over her cheek in response. The music rumbles through us, and I look up, starting to see stars. "Just let me know when you want to go home."