I patted my pocket to make sure my key and credit card were still there. I caught her eyes, and for the first time since we met on the subway that morning in May, I got a clear look at them. Somehow, though they were the coolest of greens, they were lit up, bright and electric. “I didn’t either,” I said in agreement. I looked at my watch; this little detour had knocked twenty minutes off my run.

“So, your best friend…,” I started, not knowing exactly what I was going to ask.

“I mean,” she said, and her mouth opened in a confused smile, “what the hell?”

“Well, it sounds like they didn’t make the connection until—”

“Until after they started making out?” she said, giggling.

I stood there, hand at my neck, still slightly stunned by the entire situation.

“Of all the women in New York, she picks up your cousin. In a bathroom. Your cousin.”

She seemed surprised, but also like this was the best news she’d heard all day. “Sometimes this city is magic.”

My brows raised as I dug a hand through my hair. Still sweaty. “New York City is just a small town with a lot of people in it.”

“Didion?” she asked, a pleased look on her face.

“Didion?” I asked back. “No. I just, made that up.”

“Wow, impressive. You should consider switching careers.” She gave me a look and then stuck her tongue out at me.

“Cute,” I said. My voice was sarcastic, but it was also true. She was cute.

“Sorry, I’m just…,” she said; then her tone shifted into something more serious. “Today’s kinda turned into a bummer. Though seeing your face as you figured out what was going on back there did make it a lot better.”

And with that, she perked up again.

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “What did my face look like?” I was genuinely curious.

She opened her mouth in a wide, horrified O and shifted her eyes back and forth. She looked absurd, like that Kit-Cat Klock, with the moving eyes, that Perrine had in her kitchen. I laughed, not just at the ridiculous face she was making, but at the way she did everything so freely. I wasn’t used to being around someone like her, a person who sparkled so bright it felt like their energy could rub off on you, just a bit.

Her mouth shifted into a smile. “I should head back to Brooklyn,” she said.

“Where do you live?” I asked.

“Brooklyn Heights. I’m going to walk over to the N train.”

“Let me,” I started, then rephrased what I wanted to say after she caught my eye, her brows raised. “May I walk with you?” I asked. “I’m going uptown.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding her head along with the syllables, her lips pressed together.