Yazmin almost laughs but stops herself. She gets up and yells, “I didn’t read the fine print!” We both walk off and hold our laughs inside until we cross the street. Then we laugh for a solid minute, reliving the scene and imagining what the ladies thought. It’s the kind of laugh that leaves you feeling spent in a good way. “I needed that,” I say.

“Well, I’m still not convinced,” she says, walking over to a man drinking coffee. We pretend we robbed a bank and fight over how to spend the money. The man doesn’t seem fazed and ignores us, but it’s still hilarious.

“One more?” I ask, then tilt my head in the direction of an older man reading a book on the steps of a building. The Playful Guy has an idea.

“Hell yes,” she says. We sit down on a step near the man.

“How long have we been dating?” I ask, starting the scene.

“Nine days,” she says.

I stand up. “And they have been the best nine days of my life.”

“It’s been all right,” she says, flipping her hair.

“And you have changed my life,” I say, then reach down and grab her hand. I can see the man looking at us from the corner of my eye. “I brought you here, to the place we met nine days ago.” I kneel on the step and hold up an imaginary ring. “Yazmin, will you marry me?”

The man is staring with his mouth open, and a couple of other people have stopped to watch. As I wait on bended knee, Yazmin doesn’t move. Hard to know which way she will go. She covers her mouth and starts nodding. “You will?” I scream.

“Yes, of course.” She gets on her feet as people start clapping. She hugs me and says, “Maybe we should kiss?”

My cheeks get hot. “That director said you should take more risks,” I say.

She smiles and lets go of me. “Nice try,” she says, and heads down the steps. I follow her—I want to hang out all night. I’m finally connecting with someone.

We turn a corner and she stops. “There’s my ride,” she says.

“You drive?” I ask, looking around for her car.

“Not quite,” she says, pointing to a red car across the street. “That’s my boyfriend. He goes to school in Jersey.”

“Oh,” I say, stunned. A boyfriend?

Yazmin throws me a peace sign. “See you tomorrow.”

I wave and smile, wishing I were that guy in the car. I try to get a look at him but can’t see. I’m both crushing and crushed. I head toward the subway, hands in my pockets, reliving the time with Yazmin in my head. Thinking about her face when I fake proposed to her. I cross the street and run right into Meena, my stage manager friend from lunch.