The Beautiful Between - Alyssa B. Sheinmel [13]
Why is he compelled to take a cab all the way up here—his family lives a good thirty blocks away—to stand outside my building with me (in my pajamas) to smoke a cigarette? That’ll take him less time than the trip up here. But I’m curious.
“Okay, sure.”
“Great. Come down in fifteen minutes, okay?”
“Okay, see you soon.”
My muscles feel so tight that I practically bounce from my bed and into the bathroom. My skin looks awful, greasy from the lotions I douse it with before I fall asleep—all kinds of clear-pore stuff that promises to prevent breakouts. My hair is dirty and flat. I should put on some makeup. I should change my clothes.
I open the front door quietly, leave it unlocked for myself, press for the elevator. I think about the kind of guy who goes out, jets uptown just for a cigarette with some girl. It’s not because he’s scared of getting caught smoking in his neighborhood; just as many people know him around here—maybe even more, since I live closer to school. For the Coles, a cab ride uptown just for the hell of it isn’t a waste of money. They’re old New York money. I heard that there’s a centuries-old mansion from his mother’s side of the family somewhere in New England. But maybe that’s just a rumor; that’s the Jewish side of the family, and I also heard that they’d immigrated here in the 1900s and made their fortune in New York real estate. The Coles know everyone and everything. I’m certain Jeremy knows how my father died. And of all the things that Jeremy has and all the things he gets to do, that’s the thing I envy most.
He’s in my lobby when the elevator door opens, which surprises me—cool people aren’t usually so prompt.
He doesn’t look like he usually does. He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and they don’t fit at all, unlike the rest of his perfect wardrobe. He looks scared.
“Sternin!” he calls out as I exit the elevator, though I can tell his heart’s not in it. He doesn’t sound happy. He turns and I follow him out the door, and he lights a cigarette expertly. I’ve never had a cigarette, but I don’t want to admit that to him.
“Want one?” he offers.
“Sure.”
He hands a cigarette to me and I put it in my mouth. He holds his lighter to the tip and I wait for the cigarette to light up. Nothing happens and I stick the tip farther into the flame.
“You gotta suck in, Sternin.”
My cheeks get hot and I suck hard, but manage not to cough as I inhale. The cigarette lights and I’m relieved. Jeremy doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t care, that when I inhale I blow the smoke right back out instead of breathing it all the way into my lungs.
He doesn’t say anything. I’m scared that if I ask him what he’s doing here, he won’t come back.
He lights a second cigarette with the smoldering tip of the first before tossing the butt on the ground, something I’ve never seen anyone do before.
“It’s nice out, huh, Sternin?”
I nod, even though I’m freezing. My cigarette’s gone, so I bury my hands in my pockets. Maybe if I just wait, maybe if I’m just quiet, he’ll explain why he’s here.
“Sometimes I can’t believe we’re juniors. I still feel like I’m younger, you know?” I nod, but Jeremy’s not even looking at me. “I mean, I’m sixteen. That makes Kate twelve. Twelve! I remember when she was born.”
I don’t know what that’s like. I don’t have any siblings. I can’t think of anyone I’ve known since she was born.
Jeremy drops his cigarette and expertly crushes it under his heel.
“Hey, Sternin, thanks for coming out tonight,” he says with finality, and I think, That’s it? Wait, please wait, and tell me why you asked me to come have a cigarette with you. I should say something.
“Jeremy?”
“Yeah, Connie?”
I’m kind of startled when he calls me Connie. Normally I hate being called that, and now I’m surprised to discover that I like the way it sounds when Jeremy says it. So I just say, “Have a good night.”
He kisses me goodbye on the cheek, like I’m a friend of the family. He smells like smoke, and I’m kind of relieved when he disappears into a cab. This was a strange seven minutes. I felt like he was waiting for