I start to laugh. “Cool . . . I think.”
As soon as Elliot’s gone back to his room, I pick up my phone and a blanket from the bed and go over to the armchair by the window. Once again, the view takes my breath away. And once again I get that can-this-really-be-happening-to-me feeling. I wrap the blanket around me and snuggle into the chair. Then I click on Noah’s number and press call. With every long purr of the American ring tone, my nervousness ramps up a notch. Thankfully, he answers it after just three.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hey. Thank you so much for the doll.” I feel awkward all of a sudden, too formal, too polite.
“You’re very welcome. So, tell me, Miss Penny, are you by a window right now?”
“Yes! Right by one.”
“Have you seen the moon?”
“No, hang on.” I open my window and peer out. A huge, perfectly round moon is suspended right over the Empire State Building. But it’s not the size or shape that takes my breath away, it’s the color. It’s glowing bright amber. “Oh my God, it looks amazing! Why’s it so orange?”
“Well, I thought it might have been spray-painted by aliens or something but, according to Sadie Lee, it’s something to do with pollution in the atmosphere.”
“Oh. I think I prefer the alien theory.”
“Me too. So listen. Given that you appear to have done something very strange to me—”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t exactly make a habit of buying china dolls, you know?”
I laugh.
“I think it only right and fair that you see me one more time before you go,” he continues.
“I’d love to—but when?”
“How about I swing by after the reception? Sadie Lee says it’ll all be over by midnight. I have something really cool planned.”
I instantly think of my parents. Somehow I hardly see them letting me head off into New York at midnight with a boy I’ve only just met.
“And don’t worry—we won’t be leaving the hotel,” Noah says, as if reading my mind.
“I’d love to.” I say it so quickly the words practically blur into one. I wrap the blanket more tightly around me and imagine that I’m in Noah’s arms.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Noah says softly.
“Yes. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Penny.”
“Goodnight, Noah.”
I put down my phone and take a deep breath. Then I look out onto the New York skyline and gaze up at the incredible moon. I feel so different—and it’s not just about meeting Noah or being in New York. It’s that for the first time ever I feel as if my life is my own—that I’m in charge of my own destiny. I’m no longer just reacting to what everyone else does or says. With Noah as my inciting incident, I’m finally writing my own script.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When I wake up the next day, I have that Christmas-morning feeling. Like I know before I’ve even opened my eyes that something really lovely is going to happen before I’ve remembered what it is. And then, in seconds, it all comes flooding back. Noah—I’m going to see Noah. I open my eyes and see the doll staring right at me. She’s fallen over in the night and is now lying facing me on the pillow.
“Good morning!” I say to her, because I’m so overexcited I’ll even talk to a doll. “Did you sleep well?”
I imagine the doll saying, “No actually, I slept terribly because my eyes are glued open. How would you sleep if your eyes were glued open?”
OK, I need to get up.
I have a shower, then I sit cross-legged on my bed with a towel around my wet hair and open my laptop. I feel really nervous as I wait for my blog to load. What if my readers thought my last post was stupid and over-the-top? What if I’ve got some negative comments?
But I needn’t have worried—the comments are all even lovelier than ever, most of them containing little red heart emoticons and demands for more details about Brooklyn Boy.
I’m just about to see if Elliot is awake when I get a text message. Please, please, please be from Noah, I silently plead. As I pick up my phone, I notice the doll gazing at me from where I’ve sat her up on the pillow. “Oh, purlease,” I imagine her saying. I take a deep breath and try to be cool, but as soon as I see that the text is from Noah, the fluttering begins.
I dreamed that I was taking you all around New York and every place we visited turned into cake. What could this mean?! N
I quickly text back.
That you’ve been struck by the Curse of Magical Mystery Day . . . ? Sounds amazing, though. Imagine if the Empire State Building turned into cake!
Have you looked outside yet?
No, why? Has the moon turned green?
I go over to the window and pull back the curtain. Feathery flakes of snow are tumbling from the sky. The buildings down below look as if they’ve been sprinkled in icing sugar.
Oh wow—it looks so beautiful!
Yep—now it feels like Christmas! Have a great day and see you at midnight!
You too!