“Okay, not that mature,” he says. “I could’ve resisted doing that, but I didn’t want to. Just one for the road.”
“For new times’ sake,” I say.
“For new times’ sake,” he agrees.
Without thinking, I sigh. It’s not a sigh of pleasure. And it’s not a sigh of disappointment. It’s just me taking in some of the air at this altitude, then letting it out again. One of those punctuation marks you deploy simply by being alive.
I turn to look at all the buildings around us. Johan stands so he can face them, too. There’s something so invigorating about being surrounded by this many lights in the darkness, this many shapes for the eye to see. Intimidating, too. But mostly invigorating.
I have to imagine there will be something invigorating about being apart from them, too.
I imagine Czarina looking out the window of her Paris apartment, seeing a twist on this nightscape. Home but not quite. Similar street sounds, but a different underlying music.
And I imagine Ilsa still here. Ilsa without us. And it—
Well, it hurts to think of her like that.
Even if KK’s here, too.
Especially if KK’s here, too.
Johan’s wand is out and he exhales bubbles into the night like Bogie once released cigarette smoke.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he says.
“Just worried about my sister.”
“I don’t know either of you that well, but I sense—well, I sense that maybe the two of you need to have a talk? Your choice is going to be your choice—but let her into it, too. I made that mistake with some of my friends, and believe me, it’s easier to let her in now than to try to get her back later.”
“Good to know,” I say. Then, feeling like I need to complete my doctorate in awkwardness, I add, “And it’s good to know you, too.”
“Likewise,” he says. “And this isn’t it, you know? We took a lot of subways in order to find each other—this is hardly the last stop.”
I hug him then, and he hugs me back, and it could easily escalate from there, but it doesn’t, because we are standing somewhere between the kiss and the sigh, and that is fundamentally okay.
“It’s probably time for me to go home,” he says, stealing one last glance at the city around us.
“And it’s probably time for me and my sister to figure things out,” I say. “Which will mean clearing out the guests.”
“Good luck with that. I sense there’s at least one guest she might not want to let go.”
It makes me so happy that he’s talking about Li here, not KK or even Parker.
“Before we go, there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to do,” he says. Then he explains. And there’s no way I can object. For a frenzied minute, we are filling the air with as many bubbles as we can. And then, when we’ve achieved maximum bubblosity, we run through them, whooping all the way.
When that’s done, we soapily small-talk our way down the stairs—conversing about the week ahead as if our weeks have long been familiar with one another. Ella and Louis are still singing when we get back to the apartment, although the record is on its other side now. In the dining room, Parker has broken out a broom and is sweeping up the glass and crumbs. Frederyk and Caspian are clearing the table. Nobody else is in evidence.
Seeing me notice, Parker explains, “Jason peaked fast, then fell hard. I tried to maneuver him back to your room, but he said he was scared to be here when Czarina learns you broke a glass—he nearly lost all his cookies when I told him what happened. So he’s riding safely home as we speak. Li and Ilsa have taken themselves to Czarina’s off-limits bedroom—but in the interest of full disclosure, I think it’s for conversational privacy more than anything else. Sensing the wind-down, Freddie and I started to clean up. KK sat there for about a minute watching, then said we were too tedious to be bearable and retreated to her own apartment, where, of course, no such thing as cleaning up ever needs to happen. It is unclear whether she will be coming back or not.”
“You don’t need to clean,” I tell him. I spot Johan starting to gather the coffee cups. “Seriously. I’ve got a system. You’re doing me a favor by leaving it alone.”
They all protest, and I counter-protest for about a minute, then Parker relents. I go to the lockbox and retrieve their phones—luckily, the combination has been changed to my dad’s birthday, so I get it open on the fourth try.
“We’re good here, then?” Parker asks as he and others pick up their phones. I take it as a compliment that nobody turns his on immediately.
I nod. “Yup. Go get some sleep.”
“I’m holding you to California, man. I’ve already ordered a piano for my dorm room, so you’re pretty much obligated.”
I give him a hug. “It just may happen. We’ll see.”
“Meanwhile, tell your sister to unblock me, so I can thank her for the dance. And for not hating my guts anymore.”
“Should I tell her that verbatim?”
“Maybe just the first part.”
“Consider it done.”
“I should probably take my leave as well,” Caspian says. I am a little worried he, too, is going to want a hug, but instead he offers up Frederyk’s pinkie again, and we shake. “I had no idea what to expect from this party, and I have to say, that was exactly what I got. Good luck with your journeying. If either of us can help in any way, let us know.”
“Will do,” I tell him.
“And thanks,” Caspian adds. “For including us both.”
“It was my pleasure,” I say, looking Frederyk in the eye. Then I repeat it to Caspian, who nods.
Johan has retrieved his case and is clearly making to leave with
