Page 35 of 2204 Hunter Lane
“Tate.”
“Well Tate, you’re right,” I chuckled. “I’m from New York.”
He slid one knee to hold his position on my other boot before responding.
“It nice? I always wanted to go.”
That question made me reflect for a minute. I think when people picture New York, they see all the glamourized aspects to the city; Central Park, Times Square, Statue of Liberty… the list goes on and on. But what people fail to realize is the business of it all. The non-stop action, the unaffordable living and the littered streets. Was New York nice? That was a hard question to answer. Because I believe that every city has its perks, but the downsides are always concealed.
I settled with the most conservative answer I could possibly give. “It has a lot of opportunity.”That wasn’t a lie.
There were ample opportunities to kiss a stranger at the New Year’s Eve ball drop, stare down at ant-sized taxis atop the Empire State Building, and eat your bodyweight in street meat. But there was also the high chance of corruption, stealing, theft, or in my case, falling for a complete asshat who kidnapped my heart all the way to Nebraska before cheating on me.
A few minutes passed before Tate stood up and handed over the board. “All set.”
I nodded a thanks and found Hunter at the booth, purchasing a black and red plaid scarf from a little old lady.
“Doesn’t really seem like your style.” I released, running my hands over the furry white throw underneath the selection of cloth. I acknowledged the lady before following Hunter out of the booth.
“Cause it ain’t.”
I ogled him strangely. “Then why’d you buy it?”
He let out an arm, handing me the soft material. “It matches your coatandmittens,” he smirked, a sunken dimple poking through his cheek. “Two for one.”
I glanced down at my black gloves and red puffer, reluctantly taking the scarf in my hands.Did he know I knew about his mom? Was that why he bought me this? I mean, he was being a dick earlier… but he also paid for my snowboard? I am so confused.
“You’re really hot and cold, you know that?” I wrapped the scarf around my neck, lifting my hair out from beneath it.
He shrugged. “Makes things interesting.”
We stopped in front of a trail crusted by snow that read:Avalanche.
My mind instantly returned to the conversation with the bald man earlier and I poked Hunter. “This isn’t the beginners hill?”
He laughed, throwing down his snowboard and placing one foot inside of it. “Great observation, sweetheart.”
The next thing I knew, his helmet was on and he was pushing himself towards the dip of the slope.
“Hunter wait –” I grabbed hold of his coat. “I can’t do this, I barely know how to keep myself upright.”
Through the visor covering his eyes I could make out an amused stare as he spat out a response.
“Tragic,” he pouted. His two fingers saluted me in a wave as his board curved sideways and he let the slope sweep him away.
???
After finally getting the proper directions to lead me down the hill, I found Hunter sitting at the Avalanche bar with a girl on his arm.
My mouth gaped open when his tongue slid down her throat and her hands bunched into his collar.
She was a pretty blonde with her hair tied up in a pony tail and a fur white overcoat. I must’ve looked like a creep standing near the hostess table watching them but I was more concerned with the familiarity of that jacket.
And then it hit me.
My mom had that exact coat from Clabonita, a designer store in California and it was about the same price as a second-hand car.
She’d been shopping on Melrose for a business trip and stumbled into this store when she saw the coat on a mannequin. I guess the owner only set-up shop there and wasn’t an online vendor.So where was this girl from? Or was she – Oh my God, why are they going so hard in public? There are children in this freaking establishment.
