Page 23 of The One Where They Fall in Love

Oliver and I have somehow fallen into an unlikely friendship. A few weeks ago, I was berating him at his door and now I’m almost… disappointed our relationship won’t turn into anything more. I’m not exactly sure how we got here, but here we are, and it’s all a bit confusing.

When I asked Oliver if it would be weird for him to set me up with Henry, I wanted him to sayyes, it would. And for a moment, I thought he was going to. I don’t think I’ve hallucinated all the times he’s checked me out, or leaned in a little closer than necessary when I’m talking. I think about the way he was nice to Anne at the hospital, or the overpriced earbuds he bought me… Did I really imagine all of that? I know he said he wasn’t in the right place for a relationship, but he mustreallynot be interested in me if he would rather set me up with his friend than ask me out himself. Right?

My heart hurts a little at that thought. It wasn’t a formal rejection, but it feels a bit like one. I can handle a lot of things, but no one wants to feel unwanted.

So naturally, I’m going to push that feeling down somewhere deep in my brain and focus on the task at hand. Oliver needs to love New York again. And I am here for it. Hype Girl Elle is back and she is ready to New York theshitout of this guy.

I’m practically giddy as I wait for Oliver and Thor on the steps of our building. It’s late afternoon, since he needed some time to sleep after his shift. He picked Thor up at about eight this morning, and he looked gray. Like the color of his face wasgray. I don’t know a lot about the medical field, but I’m pretty sure your job is not supposed to literally suck the life out of you.

When he finally emerges from the building, Thor immediately finds me on the steps and licks my face, his tail wagging so hard that his butt wiggles. He has grown a bit since I first met him, and he’s finally starting to fit his paws, but I don’t think he’ll get much bigger. I gather him up in my arms and hold him like a koala. Oliver shakes his head, but I can see him hiding a small smile. He looks much better after a few hours of sleep. Color has returned to his cheeks, even though there are still shadows under his eyes. His hair is damp from a shower, and I try to ignore the fresh scent of some kind of woodland shampoo that emanates off of his body.He’s not interested in you, snap out of it.

It’s the end of March, so there’s still a chill in the air, but the humidity is already starting to creep in. The threat of rain is always looming, and I hope we won’t get caught ina downpour, but my weather app says it won’t rain until tonight.

“So, where are we headed first?” Oliver asks, yawning into his hand.

“The Highline. I figure you haven’t been there since it was only finished a few years ago.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” he replies unenthusiastically. He rubs his hand up and down his face as if it will magically wake him up.

“Coffee first?” I ask, giving him a knowing look.

“Definitely.” He stifles another yawn.

We walk to the end of our street, in the direction of the Natural History Museum. I’m not sure Oliver even knows where he is going. He just seems to be following me in a sleepy haze. Thor trots alongside us, happily sniffing each square of the pavement in a strategic order. I lead us to a small coffee shop on the edge of the park. It’s one of my favorites because it’s not a big chain. There are glass windows along one side and a double door leading into the small space. There are a few plush benches and some high-top tables scattered throughout the café, but most of the space is taken up by the line throughout the store.

Oliver hands me his credit card when I order the coffees, and I take it. The interaction is so natural, it’s like we’ve done it a thousand times. We grab our coffees and go to exit the store, but there’s a rush of customers getting in line and trying to leave at the same time. I find myself awkwardly pressed between Oliver’s chest and the frame of the door, my face inches from his chin. I make the mistake of looking up, and I see that his eyes are piercingly clear for the first time today. And they’re staring back down at me.

The interaction lasts less than a few seconds, but for those few moments, every inch of me is pressed up to every part of him, and it feels like everyone around us is moving in slow motion. We’re frozen in the middle of this doorway, the people around us a blur of color, the two of us posed among them.

When the doorway finally clears, Oliver and I are funneled out with the crowd, awkwardly stumbling onto the sidewalk. The street is quiet because it’s Saturday in our mostly residential neighborhood, so the hustle and bustle of the workweek is replaced by the muted hum of a few cars passing by along Central Park West.

I mentally shake off the—whateverjust happened between Oliver and me and start walking. I head towards the subway station, thinking Oliver will follow me.

“So we can take the A or the C—” I say, turning around to find Oliver still standing in front of the coffee shop. Thor is pattering his feet impatiently to catch up to me. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I don’t take the subway,” he says in a low voice. He shuffles uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

I guess he expects that to surprise me, but it doesn’t. I could understand how being in an underground tunnel on a rickety tube of metal would be unsettling for him.

“It’s just, I don’t like not having anin case of emergencyplan. I lose my shit in the tunnels to get on this island,” he adds. His shoulders creep up to his ears as he says this, like the thought of it alone is making him cringe.

“Okay, no subway then,” I say quickly. “Well, that definitely eliminates my plan to ride up and down the escalators in Penn Station.” Oliver’s eyes go wide and Igiggle. “Kidding!”

“Not funny.” Oliver narrows his eyes at me in mock-annoyance, but then relaxes.

“So how do you get around?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“I walk mostly. If it’s anywhere too far, I take a cab.”

I consider that for a moment. “So, we can Citi Bike it,” I finally reply.

“You ride those death traps?” he asks, in such shock that his voice actually breaks. I start walking in the direction of the nearest collection of bikes, because by the time we decide on transportation, we could be halfway there.

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t love the subway,” I say with a shrug. His pace matches mine in a few quick strides.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean… if you got hit by a car you would—”

“I feel a double standard coming,” I mutter, giving him a sideways glance.