Chapter 14 - Same Time Next New Year's

ONE YEAR LATER

“This is beyond stupid,” I mutter.

“It’s not! It’s romantic, and it’s all going to work out. I just know it,” Liz whispers to me.

We’re sitting side by side on a slightly musty train on our way into New York City for the first time ever. The only thing I’m semi-sure of is that I’ll be able to find this phone booth. I did some research and planning through virtual maps online, and I’m hoping that my decent sense of direction will let us find the right place. Luckily, Leo did tell me that there aren’t many of these phone booths left, and that this one is kind of a phenomenon.

This last year has been a constant mix of doubt and agony.

It turns out that time moves painfully slow when you’re just anxiously and endlessly waiting for it to pass. I still spent a lot of my time trying to look him up, but had no luck. I even scanned any news articles I could find about new restaurants opening up in New York City. Which, it turns out, there are a lot. But none that seemed to fit with Leo and his mysterious family.

My biggest fear about this whole thing is that he moved on. If he did, I would understand completely. Maybe I’m a fool to have waited a whole year just in hopes that he would remember that we made plans to meet up—after just one conversation on the phone for a few hours.

There’s no way he’s going to show up.

I sigh and shake my head.

“Stop,” Liz hisses. “I can feel all of your doubt.”

I laugh. “Liz, the chances of this even happening are slim to none.”

“It’s going to happen.”

“You didn’t have to come, you know,” I tell her for the hundredth time. “You didn’t have to waste your New Year’s Eve like I am.”

“One: I would never let you just get on a train into New York City—by yourself —to go hopefully meet a stranger that could still turn out to be a psychopath,” she scolds me, and I roll my eyes. “And two: no party or person is more important than my sister.”

I turn my head to her, my frown turning into a soft smile. “Thank you.”

She nudges me with her shoulder. “Of course, JoJo.”

I chuckle as I shake my head and turn to look out the window. We tried to get the earliest train time that we could. I knew from my research that a big portion of the city completely shuts down on this day. There are roads that are closed for several blocks. But we should still have plenty of time before 11:00 p.m. tonight.

“This is so stupid,” I mumble for what has to be at least the tenth time in the last twenty minutes.

I’ve spent the last few months, honestly the whole year, but especially the last few months going back and forth with my decision on coming here. I have been telling myself that I need to make peace with the possibility of nothing coming from this at all. And as much as I think it would break my heart, I would understand. Not everyone would wait a whole year for a stranger they talked to for one day.

But even more than that, I spent this last year finding myself again. It turns out I wasn’t really lost—I just forgot to prioritize myself. Somewhere along the way, I stopped putting my needs first. For the longest time I thought that putting myself first was selfish and vain. Maybe it can be sometimes, but I was able to remind myself that I’m important enough to come first too. And in speaking up and telling my story, sharing my truths, I’ve found a freedom and a courage I didn’t know I was capable of experiencing. I started seeing a therapist—something I never thought I would do, but now it’s become something I can’t live without. There is something so freeing about speaking your thoughts, fears, hopes, and truths out loud.

“So when we get to Grand Central Station…” Liz shakes me out of my inner monologue when she squeals in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go to Grand Central Station! Okay, sorry, when we get there we’re going to follow the signs towards Times Square, and then, obviously, for 32nd Street.”

I nod in agreement, but don’t say anything.

She continues, “But even if he doesn’t show, we’re going to make the most of our time here. Even if we can’t get too close to all of the partying in Times Square, I’m sure we can still find some place to have a good time.”

“Sure,” I say, feeling hopeless.

We spend the rest of the trip in silence. I try to read the book I brought with me, but I’m too anxious to focus on any of the words. So I slowly spiral, and then try to keep myself from spiraling…only to fall back into a new spiral.

What if he doesn’t show up?

What if he shows up just to tell me that there’s never going to be anything between us? No, that’s stupid. I push the thought out of my head.

What if he does show up?

This is the one possibility I haven’t let myself think about. I can deal with the pain and sadness of him forgetting me. It’s going to suck, but he’s already not in my life, so nothing will really change. If anything, I’ll get the closure I need to forget about him and move on. But I won’t let myself hope, I can’t. Because if I hope and then he doesn’t show up…

I shake my head and try to focus on my surroundings. I can’t even be fully excited about going to New York for the first time because I’m too wracked with anxiety. The almost four hour trip somehow passes both quickly and slowly at the same time. And as we seem to slow down, we hear the announcement of our arrival at Grand Central Station.

I take a deep breath and put my book back into the tote bag I brought with me and then hug my bag tight to my chest. My feet are tapping rapidly on the floor. I can sense Liz bouncing excitedly and nervously next to me. My heart pounds as I try to take deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm my nerves.

When the train finally comes to a stop, we follow all of the people out and eventually into the huge terminal. We must look like clueless tourists as we whip our heads all around trying to find the right way to go. When we finally emerge outside into the darkness, I miss the warmth of the train immediately.

“Okay so if we just follow the streets going up or down, we’ll hit 32nd eventually right?” Liz asks as we step onto the sidewalk. I suppress an eye roll.

Nothing could have prepared me for the crowds rushing around us. I can barely keep a hold of Liz so that we don’t get separated. “Okay. I’m going to try and pull it up on my phone now.” I type ‘32nd Street’ into my GPS. I’m immediately overwhelmed by the results. “Liz, there are so many 32nd Streets! I didn’t see this many when I searched it at home!”

“What do we do?” she asks.

“God, why didn’t I look into this more before we actually came here?” I cry as I scroll through the options.

“Because you were in denial, and I had to drag you here,” Liz suggests.

I groan. “Okay. Let me try 32nd Street and Times Square together.” I type the words into the search bar. “Yes, this looks better. I think that’s how I searched for it before.”

“Excuse me!” My head whips around to see Liz calling to an older man walking beside us. “Can you tell me if we’re walking in the right direction to get to 32nd Street?”

“You going east or west?” he grunts.

My eyes widen, and Liz’s mirror mine. “East or west?” she repeats in a whisper.

The man sighs in annoyance. “East is in that direction”—he points one way—“And west is over there.” He points the opposite way before he keeps walking at a fast pace, leaving us behind.

We look at each other in panic. “Okay, it’s okay. We still have”—she looks down at her phone—“three hours. That should be plenty of time.”

I continue my search for 32nd and Times Square. Looking through the options I find the little 32 closest to Times Square, and when I zoom in even more I see the one labeled west and the other one labeled east. “Okay, so it’s all still one street,” I tell Liz. “Should we go towards the west or east?”

Liz gives me a look like a deer in headlights. “How should I know?” she shrieks. “And I’m not going to be the one to make that decision. Because if I’m wrong, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“East or west, east or west,” I whisper to myself, over and over. “Okay, pick the number one or two.”

“No—” she starts, but I cut her off.

“I swear I won’t be mad at you! Just pick one, hurry,” I urge.

“Fine, two,” she says nervously.

“Okay, west it is,” I say with a huff, my breath visibly swirling in the frigid air around me. “Let’s go.”