Page 128 of The Clinch
Do they even have real stores here?
Her reply comes immediately.
EDEN
Don’t be a bougie bitch
Be ready
A second later:
EDEN
They have boutiques in Brooklyn, you psychopath
Then she sendsthree nail polish emojis, a syringe, and a crown.
I laugh under my breath, set my coffee down, and get up to dress.
Apparently today, I’m doing Brooklyn.
At eleven on the dot,Eden picks me up looking luminous in a green dress and oversized sunglasses.
“Nate let you out by yourself looking like that?” I tease, pulling her into a hug. “Also, thank you for picking me up. We could’ve just met on Smith Street, you know.”
“Meh.” She waves me off. “The Uber’s here.”
Then she lifts her phone, angles us both into frame, and snaps a picture.
“What are you doing?”
“Nate left for morning skate before I was even up. Didn’t get a proper look.”
She catches my hand and tugs me toward the car, checking the license plate against her phone before sliding in. “And now he gets to be extra motivated.”
“Cruel.” I laugh.
“I do what I can.”
Brooklyn rolls past in polished little flashes—brownstones, strollers, café tables, the curated version of the borough.
Eden drags me through a manicure, two boutiques, and just enough unsolicited opinion about what I should wear to med school.
By lunch my nails are deep red, I have three bags I didn’t plan to buy, and Eden has informed me that I need at least one outfit that says ‘competent future doctor’ and at least one that says ‘dangerous to men with poor judgment.’
“Those are the same outfit on me,” I protest.
“That,” she says, “is exactly the problem.”
Over lunch, she finally asks the question she’s been saving.
“How are you?”
I almost give her the usual lie. Fine. Good. Normal.
Instead I look down at the ring and tell the truth.
“It’s all new. Med school. Leo. All of it. My life changed shape overnight, and I’m still pretending I know how to keep up.”
