I could practically see it, this New York night he was describing. Walking around with Cary, riding on his scooter, ducking into coffee shops or diners when it got too cold, talking and exploring the city…

I shook my head, trying to stop myself before I went too far down this path, however nice it seemed. I was here to see this play. I’d fought with Stevie about this play. I’d come too far to just give up at the last minute. I had to do this—too much was on the line. “I have to see this show.”

He eyes were searching mine. “Are you sure?”

I swallowed hard and made myself nod. “Yes.”

Hurt passed over his face for just a moment, and then it was gone. He gave me a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Right,” he said. “Of course! So we should get you there on time.”

We didn’t talk much as we walked back to the scooter, parked on Seventy-Third Street.

Cary got on first, and I took my place behind him, but I put my arms around him for a second, holding him, breathing him in, knowing that our time together was almost over. Cary covered my hand in his, and we both just stayed like that for a moment until he let go of my hand—it now felt much too cold—and started the bike.

The drive seemed to take no time at all, and before I wanted it to, the bike was slowing down. Cary pulled it over to the side of the street, and I looked up and saw that Fifty-First Street was blocked to traffic. He turned and looked back at me. “Tenth is one block over,” he said, pointing. “But we can go around if you want. We can go back up to Fifty-Third, then cut down—”

“No. Thank you, though,” I said, getting off the bike carefully, avoiding the tailpipe like it was second nature now. I took off my helmet, and Cary cut the engine and stepped off the bike as well. “I can just walk—it’ll probably be faster.”

Cary took the helmet back from me and rested it on the seat. We looked at each other for just a moment, and it was like all the things we weren’t saying were filling up the space between us and making it crackle, like static electricity, the charge you could feel when you got close to it.

“So,” I started. I didn’t want to say goodbye to him—I didn’t want this to end—but I was now also very aware that I needed to get to Tenth Avenue. I hadn’t come this far to arrive at Mr. Campbell’s play late.