In the Air (16 page)

"I never stopped being happy! You're my best friend, Samson. I can't lose you to someone else." Her tone was persistent. She was determined to mend things between us.

"You'll never lose me, Aubrey. We're always going to be in each other's lives, we just need to figure out who we are when we're apart." My voice remained calm.

"That's ridiculous. Without you, I'm nothing."

Her words tugged at my heart. I used to feel that way about her, but that feeling was gone.

"I'm sorry, Aubrey–"

"No, you're not," she cut me off. "You and this girl will be riding off into the fucking sunset in no time!" Aubrey's voice rose.

The hurt in her voice made me feel sick. I hated myself in that moment. "I'm not with Natalia!" I shouted. I quickly lowered my voice. "I'm not with anyone." The truth was slightly omitted to protect Aubrey's feelings. Natalia and I agreed to take things slow, neither of us wanting to rush into anything. I wasn't with anyone yet.

"Natalia? Is that her name?" Aubrey seethed.

"Aubrey, I didn't answer this call to argue."

"Her name doesn't matter anyway. You'll get bored with her in a few weeks and see that leaving me was the worst decision you've ever made."

"How can you be so sure that we are supposed to be together? We've never experienced anything else. We stayed together this whole time because it was all we ever knew."

"I can't believe you!" she shouted into the phone. "When you're finished being a disgusting piece of shit, you'll come crawling back home!"

Aubrey hung up on me, as usual. For a moment, I wondered if I was doing the right thing. I came to New York to dance. Feelings for Natalia appeared out of nowhere, but if I didn't allow myself to discover their meaning, I would always wonder. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, took a few relaxing breaths, and turned the knob to Natalia's door. When I entered the room, Natalia looked like she'd just been caught robbing a bank.

"Everything okay in here?" I ran my hand through my hair.

"Yup. Everything is good," Natalia said innocently.

"I'm sorry about that. It was Aubrey." I was still fuming from the phone call. I needed to calm down.
I needed a drink.

"Is everything okay between you two?"

"If you're asking in girl code if Aubrey and I are back together, the answer is no." I walked closer to Natalia, our noses practically touching. "So, we both agreed we'd take things slow, but how slow are we talking?" I smiled down at Natalia while she warily looked at me. "Are you thinking just pecks on the cheek?" I bent down and kissed her cheek. "Are you thinking, maybe holding hands?" I entwined our fingers. "What about this?" My lips finally met hers.

Breaking away, Natalia peeked up at me from behind her eyelashes and smiled. "How about we go outside and enjoy the New York weather? I haven't had much time to explore and you seem to know your way around. You can be my personal tour guide."

"Or, we can stay inside and do some personal exploration of our own?" She rolled her eyes and started laughing. Soon enough, I was joining in. After a few seconds of laughter, I conceded. "Or, we can go outside and I can be your tour guide. You're bossy, you know that, right?"

Natalia's arms went around my neck and pushed our foreheads together. "Let's do this."

The New York streets were filled with traffic, and people were out enjoying their Sunday. We walked down Columbus, passing a staggering number of upscale shops. We found a Starbucks, and Natalia refused to walk any further without caffeine. I knew the feeling; I was a caffeine addict myself. Once we re-fueled, we continued to walk the busy street.

Every time our arms brushed, we'd look at each other and laugh. I thought about reaching out to hold her hand, but figured it would go against taking things slow. We passed the streets, running through the crosswalks and dodging the advancing cars. Natalia wasn't used to the city, so each time we came to a crosswalk, she would stop, insisting we wait for the walk signal. Each time I would drag her along when no cars were in sight, even if the safety symbol wasn't displayed. She was such a newbie and I had to teach her to brave the traffic. If she waited for every walk signal in the city, she'd be late a lot.

"How are you ever going to call yourself a New Yorker if you can't cross the street on a red light?" I laughed. Still smiling, I continued, "I want to show you something. You up for an adventure?"

"Always. Where?" she asked, excited.

"You'll see."

When we reached the entrance to Central Park, Natalia was in awe. Her face was breathtaking. I remembered how it felt seeing it for the first time. My mother brought me here. I was twelve and we had just finished having brunch at Sirio. She told me she had a surprise waiting for me and we had to hurry. We ran through the streets, laughing, arms linked. When we reached the park, I held the same look Natalia did.

"Come on," I took Natalia's hand and lead the way to an old, wooden bench.

"This is what you wanted to show me?"

"Look," I pointed to the small silver sign posted on the backrest of the bench, "this is what I wanted to show you." She tried to read the inscription aloud.

"Pour la personne la plus extraordinaire que je connaisse. Continue de danser."

The way she read the French inscription was hilarious. Obviously, she'd never studied the language.

"Don't laugh at me! What does that mean?"

I repeated the French inscription, and then said it in English: "'To the most extraordinary person I know. Keep dancing.' My mother had this bench inscribed for me. The day she surprised me with it was the day that confirmed what I wanted to do for the rest of my life."

"That's beautiful. Your mom is very supportive of you." Natalia's hand found mine, as we sat side by side.

"She's only supportive when my dad's not around. He has no idea she did this for me. If he found out, he would probably have it torn down." The day my mother revealed the park bench, she reminded me that it was our little secret, and to never let my father find out. He frightened her. My father had never been physically abusive to either of us, but he had ways of making anyone do what he wanted. Except for me. "So, that's what I wanted to show you." I rubbed my hand along the weathered wood, remembering all the happy times I'd had in this very spot. I'd been coming here for the past six years, sometimes just sitting and listening to music.

I could have sat at that bench the rest of the day with Natalia, but we left to visit a few clothing stores before heading back to the dorm.

"Burberry. We have to go in here," I demanded. I could never pass a Burberry and not go in.

"I can't even afford to buy a sock in that place. Do we really have to go in? I feel like the sales associates judge me every time I go in there." Natalia's face scrunched up and she looked like a five-year-old who had just had their toy taken away.

"Five minutes. That's all. I just have to check out their new stuff."

Natalia crossed her arms and huffed. "You know it's not considered new once you've already seen it, right?" she asked, annoyed.

"I haven't seen the stuff,
actually
. Let's go." I pulled her arm, practically dragging her inside.

A tall, blonde, and rather stone-faced sales associate greeted us as we entered, without leaving her spot at the counter. I was surprised she hadn't recognized me, since I was a frequent shopper at this store. I walked over to the sweater section as Natalia dragged her feet behind me.

"Are you really that unhappy that we're here?" I turned to look at her just as she was making faces at my back. "How old are you?"

"Everything in this store is a rip-off."

"Are you really a girl, or are you just pretending?" I lightly squeezed her arms to check for muscles. "I don't feel any crazy biceps." She swatted my arms away.

"I'm just a smart consumer who doesn't like to get raped in the ass by credit card companies!"

My jaw dropped from her statement. I wasn't used to being in the presence of someone so economical. "It's a good thing my dad pays the bill."

With that, she dramatically rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. "Oh, look." She reached around me and snatched a blue cashmere sweater from the rack. "This would look great on you. Buy it. Let's go." She shoved the sweater into my arms and started walking to the register.

"I already have this," I called.

Natalia stopped, turned around, and huffed loudly.

"Fine, we'll go," I hung the sweater back on its hanger and followed Natalia out the door. "I'm never shopping with you again."

As soon as our feet hit the sidewalk, a smile appeared on Natalia's face.

"You got your way." I started to bow down to her, but she stopped me.

"That's not funny!" Her hands met my waist, and she laughed freely.

"You pick somewhere for us to go and I'll just follow." I gave my best pouty face, hoping she'd lean over and kiss me.

"Oh, Samson. Don't be such a baby." She reached her hand up and playfully slapped my cheek.

Did she seriously just slap me?

The day flew by. Samson and I roamed the city for hours. My favorite part was when he showed me his park bench. It felt good having him share something so personal with me. We'd been shopping–Hugo Boss, Brooks Brothers, and now, Sephora, which I was quite happy about.

"Just because it's considered a cosmetics store, doesn't mean guys aren't allowed in."

Samson furrowed his brow but then began to laugh.

I raised my hand to the front of my mouth, faking a surprised look. "I had no idea guys went into the store. I thought they carried cologne strictly so girlfriends had something to buy their boyfriends."

"Well," he said playfully, placing his hand on the edge of my shoulder, "you're wrong."

"Fine. I'm wrong. Let's go get some wrinkle cream for all these laugh lines you're causing."

Samson dropped his arm back to his side and gave me his best brooding look. "You're a feisty one. Has anyone ever told you that, Natalia?"

Every time Samson said my name, the hair on the back of my neck rose. The way he pronounced the last syllable, the way his tongue hit the roof of his mouth so gently, it was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard. I restrained myself from grabbing him around the neck and pulling his lips to mine. I wanted to kiss him so badly.

The wind blew my hair across my face. Samson's finger lightly caressed my cheek, moving traces of hair out of the way. I peeked up at him, a grin now showing on his face. I stared at the sidewalk to keep a straight face.

"You're the first person that's ever called me that. I don't even know what feisty means." I began to laugh and pulled my messy hair into a ponytail.

"You're an awful liar. You can't even look at me while saying that."

"I can." My eyes followed the length of his body until they lingered on his face. His rounded jaw framed his oval face perfectly. His blue eyes stood out against his slightly tanned skin, which made his blonde hair appear lighter. "I don't even know–" I began laughing, unable to finish the rest of my sentence.

We laughed for at least five minutes. We'd stop, wipe our eyes from the tears, then look at each other and begin laughing again. When we finally calmed down, Samson wiped his eyes with both hands, and gazed up at the tall building in front of us. His long, black eyelashes easily touched his eyelids. I never understood why most guys were so lucky to have long eyelashes, while most girls had to curl them, glob on the mascara, and glue on the fake lashes just for them to appear voluptuous. If you ask me, girls really got the short end of the stick.

"What do you say we go into Sephora and then I'll let you buy me a coffee?" Samson asked playfully.

"Yeah, that sounds fair," I retorted, rolling my eyes.

Samson and I spent the next hour in Sephora, spraying each other with awful smelling perfume and colognes. He was convinced that my new scent should be a perfume made by Hello Kitty, saying it would go perfectly with my spirited personality. In reply, I sprayed him with Justin Bieber's perfume, which only ended up bothering my sense of smell more than his. By the time we left the store, Samson had picked up not one, but two bottles of his favorite cologne, Bond No. 9. I was astounded when I saw the cashier ring it up. People really paid hundreds to smell good when a bar of soap cost less than five dollars?