I took it, examining each petal closely. “Don’t let Win find out. He’ll mock you forever. Not that this is a first date. I . . . yeah.”

“No. Right.” Oscar stuck his hands in the pockets of his navy-blue shorts. “This is more of an apology bouquet.”

“Carnations, yes, the universal symbol for—”

“Acting like an asshole.” He grimaced. “I’ve ruined the flowers.”

“No!” I laughed, too loud. “They’re great. I’m going to put them in some water.”

“Hey, before you do that . . .” He cleared his throat. “Or . . . after I guess—there’s this thing I have to be back for later, but I have the morning off while your dad’s notating the Mahler . . .”

Oh, right, I remembered dimly. He’s guest conducting in London next week.

“And I was wondering if you’d mind helping me fill it. The morning, not the Mahler, although I’m supposed to work on that at some point too.”

I froze on the bottom step. He means it platonically. “Sure, great! What do you feel like doing? We could hit the park, go downtown, grab dim sum . . . ?”

“I’d like to talk, actually. If that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

“Could we go someplace, um . . . quiet?”

Instead of an inner debate, I felt a still, calm certainty. Of all people, he would understand why I loved it so much. Even just as friends, I was ready to share it.

I smiled. “I know someplace very quiet.”

14.

oscar didn’t ask where we were going. We rounded the corner onto a side street full of antiques shops and low-rise office buildings. Walking by the mid-point at a New York pace, you’d think the buildings were connected via a narrow alley, nothing of note. But if you really looked, you’d see mosaic tiles and, a few feet in, a wider space beyond.

I led Oscar into that space.

My courtyard. I had no legal claim on it, but it was mine all the same, sweet and simple, framed by low buildings with overflowing window boxes and one rusting fire escape. The far building housed three apartments by the looks of it, but I’d never seen another soul here, inside or out. That wasn’t what made it so special, though.

I watched Oscar’s face to see when it would hit him.

When we stepped in, the city buzz hummed around us. The next step, wind swooshed without so much as rustling our hair. Then one more, to the center of the courtyard, and—

“It’s silent.” Oscar touched his ear. Let it go.

“I can’t explain it.” I whispered, not wanting to spoil the effect. “I come here when the city gets to be too much. This place and the Ramble are where I go to feel alone.”

“Is it . . . public?”