SUNNY
“Sunny,forget it. I won’t allow you to stay there.” My cousin, Summer, wrestles the lease application out of my hands and tries to tear it in half. She fails on the first try. It’s seven pages, and she’s greatly overestimated her strength. I yank the lease out of her hands and keep reading while we walk.
“I have limited options. Does this place stink? Yes---figuratively and literally. I’m not sure there are enough air fresheners in New York to get rid of that stench. Could it be dangerous? It doesn’t look safe. But I am positive I can’t keep sleeping on your couch. It’s bad enough that I feel like a complete bum, but Gloria makes me feel worse. Today, she removed my luggage from the hall closet and placed it by the door. Can I take a hint? Yes, ma’am. Sunny Luna can take a big old whopping hint.” I curl my fist into a ball and wrinkle the application in my hands. Crap.
“I’m sorry, Sun. As soon as I saw your bags, I chewed her out and reminded her you handed over one-third of the rent for your sorry little space on the couch. Gloria’s a world-class jerk, but you know she’s got mental problems.” Summer makes a spiral motion next to her temple and sticks out her tongue.
I pinch my brows with curiosity. “And what problems might those be?”
She shrugs. “I’m not a psychiatrist and unable to diagnose her properly, but she’s a chronic asshole. That must count for something.” She taps the button by the crosswalk, extends her arm to hold me back, checking both ways to ensure traffic has stopped on all sides, then guides us through. Summer is one year older than me but takes her older cousin’s responsibilities very seriously. Unlike me, she’s a native New Yorker. Our dads are brothers, but hers moved to the Big Apple when he was my age, hoping to chase his Broadway dreams. He never made it big, but he had a few parts here and there. At least he can say he tried.
That’s the most any of us can do.
“I can’t stay where I’m not wanted.” I follow the rough-looking herd of commuters through the crowded crosswalk, weaving and bobbing between men twice my size, unwilling to give in an inch of space. Summer barges through, knocking past people without a care in the world. That’s one of the many things I love about her. She kicks ass and takes names---no one bullies her. When she reaches the curb, she spins around and sees me halfway down, fighting to charge past a pair of construction workers impersonating linebackers. They stand shoulder to shoulder and block my path, practically shielding the sun from view, ambling as slow as molasses.
“Hey meatheads, you’re blocking the whole fucking street, and the goddamn light’s about to turn!” Summer bellows from the curb, waving her hands and jumping on the balls of her feet. She’s got some giant cojones.
In typical fashion, they don’t sass her back. No one ever does. You get away with a lot when you’re as hot as her. But her verbal abuse doesn’t go entirely unanswered. As we step onto the sidewalk, one of the jerks stomps into a puddle and splashes mud over my white sneakers, soaking them through to my sock.
“Goddamn it.” I hop to the closest storefront and lean into the wall, removing my shoe to wring out my sock.
“That piece of shit did it on purpose!” Summer growls with rage, lifts her fists into the air and marches in their direction.
I catch the back of her coat and pull her under the awning away from view. “Cut that out before you get us killed. You don’t even know this neighborhood well. They might have friends nearby.”
She huffs and utterly dismisses my concerns. “Please! Those guys were nothing. One swift kick to the left nut, and they would have dropped like hotcakes. I’m not afraid of guys like that. Besides, I have pepper spray in my purse.”
“I can’t stay like this.” I plod slowly, squishing step by step and leaving a mysterious line of wet footprints down Canal Street. “Maybe I’ll look at those Craigslist Ads. There were a few decent ones.” I turn the corner and point to the subway station across the street. “Let’s head back and try again after making some calls.”
Summer’s peeved expression grows irate. “Craigslist? Are you out of your mind? Did my Sunday night true crime marathon teach you nothing? Don’t make me kill someone, Sunny. If someone murders you, not only will I miss you forever, but you’ll force me to hunt him down and burn him alive. Is that what you want?”
I shake my head once. “You know you’re a little nuts, right?”
She smiles and throws her arms around me. “Just do what I say, and no one gets hurt.” Before I can pull away, she bursts out in giggles and swings me into a salsa dance. Summer teaches dance at her parents’ studio in Brooklyn four nights a week and saves every penny to one day rent studio space in Manhattan. Maybe I’ll open a design store next door. You never know---stranger things have happened.
“Be serious, please. We should head back and scrounge up lunch before making the rounds again. I’m starving, and I want to tell Gloria I’ve found a place by the end of the week. I’m tired of walking on eggshells.” I twirl counterclockwise under her arm, spin twice to demonstrate I’ve paid attention to her instruction then almost stumble onto the street. I hold my balance, teetering on the grip of one wet sneaker as a black car breaks away from heavy traffic and glides to the curb.
I turn to Summer, who creases her brow with worry and stares at me. Together, we fix our gaze on the back seat’s black opaque window as it disappears into the door. My eyes grow wide with wonder as the loveliest pair of blue bedroom eyes appear from the dark interior and nearly knock me out of my muddy sneaker.
“Hey, sunshine. Can I offer you ladies a lift?” Baron Caulfield, my pre-teen crush and the love of my life, steps onto the sidewalk and holds the door. I haven’t seen him in months, but I’ve heard through the family grapevine he moved to the city.
I shake my head and smile. “I doubt you’re headed to Soho, and I don’t want to take you too much out of your way. We’ll just take the subway.” My legs itch to jump into the back seat, curl into his lap and lick my way up to his neck, taking time to enjoy the subtle ridges of his Adam’s apple, but I can’t. I’d hate for him to think of me as a nuisance. It’s better to keep an air of mystery. I play this ridiculous argument in my head, knowing months may pass before I ever see him again.
Summer clamps her hand over my mouth and puts me out of my misery. “Forgive her. She’s delusional from walking all day searching through toxic apartments. Yes, you may give us a ride. I don’t mind if you’re going out of your way, but I thank you. We thank you.” She uses her hand to move my head up and down, then dives into the backseat.
Baron smiles and clears the way for me to follow. “I’m headed into the Village. It’s on my way.” One smoldering eye winks, and my hot cheeks melt clear off my face.
What on earth is this man doing in Chinatown?