Page 72 of Songs of Summer

“That I get. My dad saw him in DC, says it was his best ever. I wish I could have seen The Clash.”

“You never talk about your dad. Are you close? Is he into music too?”

“Not really into music and close enough, for someone I have little respect for. He cheated on my mom, and even though she has clearly ended up in a better place, I still resent him for hurting her. But we get along fine. I’ve learned to compartmentalize.”

“Wow, you seem so in touch with your feelings.”

“Yeah, well, ten years of therapy will do that.”

“I only went a few times, in college.”

“Everyone on the Upper East Side has been in therapy for ten years. It’s like a requirement once you pass 59th Street.”

Maggie laughed. She was starting to see how all the clichés of New York City life were based on fact.

“I have a bootleg of Brittany Howard at Webster Hall. Want to hear it?” Matt asked.

“Yes,Live at Sound Emporiumgot me through Covid!”

They sang along for the next ninety minutes and pulled into the parking lot of the ferry terminal just as they finished belting out the final encore.

The boat was packed, and since they only just made it, there were no more seats up top. It was better actually. Theyslipped onto a bench in the back, securing the cakes underneath, and fell asleep, once again, before the ferry even picked up speed. At twenty-eight minutes, the ride was the perfect amount of time for a disco nap. Matt leaned on the window, and Maggie leaned on him, amazed at how comfortable she felt doing so. She pondered the extent to which their fake-dating scenario had contributed to their rapid connection.

She opened her eyes as the island appeared in the near distance. It was so unlike the first time she had arrived, looking out at the unknown in fear. Now, she breathed a sigh of relief, the way you do when you recognize that you’re close to home.

To their surprise, Dylan was at the ferry dock on the other side when they arrived. As they exited the boat, they saw her sending off Steve.

“What happened?” Matt asked.

“How can I be with someone who burns so easily?” she said, laughing.

“Aw.” Matt wrapped his arms around her and brought her in for a big hug.

“At least now we don’t have to pay to have him photoshopped out of the pictures!” he offered in consolation. Not that she seemed to need much consoling. She handled it in that “no skin off my back” way she seemed to handle everything. Unlike Maggie, Dylan seemed impervious to drama.

“Do you have the wagon?” he asked upon breaking away from their hug.

“I do.”

“Can you bring back the cake?”

“I can.” She smiled.

“Cool. I’m gonna take Maggie back to theHotel, Motel, Holiday Inn,” he rapped.

Maggie laughed; Dylan rolled her eyes.

“OK.Mamma Mia!is playing at twenty hundred hours, sharp, I’ve been told—six times. My dad always speaks in army time,” she added for Maggie’s sake.

“Be there by eight.” Matt smiled and saluted before leading them in the direction of town.

“Best hip-hop album—on three,” Matt queried a few steps later. “One, two, three.”

“To Pimp a Butterfly, Kendrick Lamar!” they both shouted in unison.

“Wow. You’re so old-school—I thought you would sayRapper’s Delight, especially after your hotel-motel joke.”

“Nope, but I can do that one from start to finish,” he laughed.

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