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Ah, Sundays… my only day of rest. I’ve just been to an early brunch with Jack, hashing out our predictions for the Giants/Eagles football game tonight. I love watching divisional rivals battle for glory on the field, brutally attempting to crush each other’s bones to vie for the coveted brown ball. The adrenaline, the way it stimulates me, overwhelming my attention… football is one of the ultimate aphrodisiacs for me.
I part ways with Jack, promising to make it back to his place in time for the afternoon game between the Colts and Patriots, hurrying to pick up my dry cleaning and some groceries before the game. The supermarket is packed, and it is all I can do to avoid ramming into the dazed little old white-haired ladies slowly pushing their carts and squinting up close at each and every label on the shelves. I finally squirm my way to the beer fridge and retract a cold case of Heineken, wedging it onto the bottom shelf of the grocery cart, when someone shoves into me from behind.
I reel on impulse, my first instinct kicking in, the ire and frustration at their breaking point. Turning on my heel, I glower at the perpetrator of my personal space… and stop myself from lashing out. In front of me stands a stunning brunette, wearing white shorts and a turquoise tank top.
“Morgan?” the blue-eyed apparition inquires, smiling.
The fog clears in my brain and I realize it’s Naomi, my next door neighbor from back home, whom I haven’t seen in almost five years. I can’t believe I don’t recognize her immediately, since we did grow up together. The last time I saw her was the night before I left for college. We were up on her roof outside her bedroom window, looking up at the stars and sharing some whiskey we’d pilfered from her brother’s secret stash. Emboldened by alcohol, I’d kissed her, trying to satisfy the burning curiosity of what it would be like to feel another girl’s lips on mine– a beautiful girl, at that. She’d kissed me back, and we felt each other up a little bit, before her brother barged into her room and poked his head out the window. I can’t remember his exact words, but he was pretty shocked, and broke up the magic of the moment. I left the next day. We kept in touch for awhile, but I was halfway across the country for school, and our friendship couldn’t weather it.
“Naomi!” I exclaim, smiling, taking her into my arms and kissing her cheek. “You look great! What are you doing in New York?”
“Well… I got accepted for a doctorate program in psychology at NYU. I moved in just last week, actually,” she says excitedly.
“That’s amazing! You always wanted to deal with everyone else’s issues,” I joke, “why not get paid for it, right?”
“Exactly!” she laughs, her eyes gleaming. “You know, I always wondered what you were up to. I spoke to your mom a few weeks ago about you and she told me I should give you a call when I got here. I never got around to it, with the moving and all, but now that you’re here, we should go out for drinks soon, and catch up."
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