APRIL 5
THE NEXT DAY
Dinner last night was a daze. I sat there, I congratulated Magnolia, I ate a really good steak. That's all I remember about it.
On the other hand, Clay's face when I opened the door is ingrained into my brain. I replay his words over and over again. Ben walking into the apartment. I think about how our goodbye didn't go the way it should've.
How is it that Clay and I are never on the same page? How is it that everytime I finally flip to the right page, he's moved onto the next chapter? How is it that every plot twist seems aimed to destroy us?
Clay's face right before he left sticks in my brain, and I realize I've worn that expression before.
The situation feels eerily familiar, as if I've lived all of this before. It isn't until I can imagine gold earrings shining through soft blonde curls that I remember I've lived through this from the other side.
I've been in Clay's shoes. I've watched him be in a relationship, and I've hopelessly asked for something he couldn't give me. The world was dark then, and I had to go through it alone.
I hope Clay's not alone. I hope he's told someone what's going on. Nick or George maybe. I hope he's not still wandering the streets of New York.
I sit up in my bed. I never asked when his flight was heading back. He could still be here.
I have three rings to collect my thoughts before he answers the phone. I try to think of how to word it.
"Hello?" he says.
"Are you still in New York?" I ask quickly.
"Until four, yeah."
I check the clock to see it's almost nine. That's enough time for a goodbye. "Do you have plans?" I ask, "Where's your hotel?"
I text Clay when I get to his hotel, and I can feel my heart rate quicken as I wait for him to walk outside.
I don't know what I was thinking. Other than giving him a tour, I don't even know what we're going to do all day. I should have a plan, but I don't.
He walks out the hotel doors and squints at the sunlight. "Look who I found," he says when he reaches me sitting on a bench.
"Ready to see New York?" I ask.
"Born for it."
We begin to walk along the sidewalk. I took the subway here, but I plan on walking a bit before we get back onto one.
"How was your hotel?" I ask.
"It was good, just a hotel." He shrugs. "How was your dinner?"
I repeat his shrugging motion. "It was just a dinner."
We're quiet now. I walk across the sidewalks with ease, but I notice Clay having to dodge some people to not get run over every now and then. I wonder if that's what I looked like when I first moved here.
Washington Square Park is where I slow my steps down, knowing I wanted to stop here for a little bit. I find myself checking the time. He leaves in less than five hours.
"Shouldn't you be at work?" he asks.
"Oh." I fake a cough. "Felt sick, you know?"
He chuckles. "You skipped work? For me?"
"Yeah, I thought you're only here for a little, so why not make the best of it." I lead him to sit on a bench.
"So what's this then?" He lifts his arms to the park around us jokingly. "Is this the best you've got to show me?"
YOU ARE READING
saturday mornings are for pancakes // a dream x reader fanfiction
Fanfiction"What are you doing in my kitchen?" he asks groggily as he makes his way over to the barstools. I laugh at the way he rubs his eyes. "Making pancakes." He squints up at me, hangover all over his face. "Why are you doing it so early in the morning?" ...
