“Tired,” Tyler says skeptically. “All those empty beer bottles in the kitchen suggest otherwise.”
Color rises to my cheeks, so I press the cup of coffee to my lips in hope of blocking half my face. He still notices, though, because he laughs, and I’m surprised he’s not frowning in disapproval at me the way he used to. Maybe he no longer minds. “I only had a couple,” I say after taking a quick sip. It’s only then that I realize it’s a Starbucks cup I’m holding. Not quite the Refinery, my favourite coffee place back home, but it’s good enough to appease my craving. “Why didn’t you come back inside?”
Tyler shrugs, but he doesn’t answer my question. Instead, he moves around the bed to adjust the curtains, despite the fact that they’re already open. After a moment he turns back around, his eyes smoldering at me from across the room. “I know you really want to check out Central Park. So today, I was thinking, how about it?”
My face lights up. Central Park is what I’ve been most excited about. “No way! It looks amazing.”
“It is,” Tyler says. “How does an hour sound?”
“I’ll be ready.”
With a final nod of agreement, he spins around and turns to leave, but he comes to an abrupt halt by the door. He looks back to me. “I forgot to tell you: Monday night we’re taking you to the Yankees game.”
I can’t help but pull a face. Tyler knows I’m not the biggest sports fan around. “A football game?”
With a slow sigh, he shakes his head. “Baseball, Eden, it’s baseball. Yankees vs. Red Sox. Derek Jeter is finally gonna be playing again. He broke his ankle last fall.”
“Who?”
“Oh my God.” Tyler stares at me in disbelief, pressing both index fingers to his temples. He parts his lips. “Derek Jeter? You know, the legend?”
“Who?” I ask again.
He gapes at me. “Unbelievable.”
“I don’t even know how baseball works,” I explain indignantly. I take another sip of my coffee. Still doesn’t beat the Refinery. Never in a million years. “How do you expect me to know who the players are? And since when were you a fan of this Derek Jeter guy? I thought you were a 49ers fan.”
“I am,” Tyler says, very slowly. “It’s just that the 49ers are a football team, Eden.”
“What the hell?”
“Okay, okay, that’s it,” he says. Shaking his head, he fixes me with a playful gaze. “Central Park has ball fields, so we’re gonna play baseball. You are not leaving this city until you love our national sport.” Without waiting for me to object, which he must know I’m planning on doing, he swivels back around and immediately disappears out of the room. Over his shoulder he calls, “One hour!”
I roll my eyes and push the door shut. I may hate sports, but perhaps it won’t be so bad. Tyler running around, all athletic and sweaty? Sounds good to me.
Laying my coffee down on the bedside table, I quickly make Tyler’s bed before dropping to the floor to flip open my suitcase. I’ll get around to unpacking eventually, once I figure out where I’m supposed to put everything. I grab an outfit, finish off my coffee and head through the apartment to the bathroom.
Tyler’s hovering by the sink, pouring himself a glass of water. He watches me as I approach.
“Where’s Stephen?” I ask. The apartment is quiet, nothing like it was last night. The only sound I can hear is the faucet.
Tyler nods to the closed door next to his room. “Sleeping. He probably won’t get outta there until the afternoon.” He switches off the faucet and presses the glass of water to his lips.
“He’s in college, right?”
“Yeah.” He takes a sip and licks his lips, leaning back against the counter. “Studies computer technology. Networks. Something like that. He graduates next summer.”
“He doesn’t seem like a college kinda guy,” I murmur. Last night, I vaguely recall him shoveling two whole slices of pizza into his mouth at once with a beer in his other hand. And the longer I think about this, the more I realize he’s exactly like a college student. I’ve got a lot to look forward to. “I’m taking a shower.”
Tyler nods and steps to the side, allowing me to squeeze past, which I do as gracefully as I can manage. But I still end up nudging his glass of water, spilling a few drops over his shirt. He rolls his eyes and walks away.
I shower quickly, drying my hair with my towel, and then pull on my denim shorts and a blue vest. With no motivation to haul out my hairdryer from my suitcase, I simply throw my hair up into a damp, messy bun and decide to stay clear of makeup for the day. Rachael wouldn’t approve, but thankfully she’s not here to frown at my lack of effort.