the bed expectantly. He took
off his hat and ran a hand through his thick jet-black hair.
“Okay,” Vanessa muttered, pressing play. She took a seat on the floor, as far away from Hollis as possible. The screen sprang
to life, panning out from a MetroCard stuck to the floor of the subway car to a homeless man on the plastic orange seats,
surrounded by all of his belongings, peacefully reading a book.
Next, the camera zoomed wildly, capturing the faces of people as they were rushing to the subway. Hollis sat up. “This is
my favorite part.”
“Really?” Vanessa asked, flattered. He’d critiqued her work before, but this felt so much more personal.
The bedroom setting can have that effect.
“Yeah. But sometimes you’re so removed. I just want to know more about your subjects. Why you chose them. Who they are,” Hollis
mused as the camera jump-cut from an old lady feeding pigeons in Union Square to a group of revelers spilling out from the
subway.
Vanessa continued to watch as the camera shakily followed two girls wearing matching silver sequined dresses trip up the First
Avenue L station stairs. From their backs, you couldn’t tell how old they were. They looked like they were searching for danger.
Hollis tenderly cupped Vanessa’s chin and pulled her into him. “This is what I’ve been wanting to do since the party,” he
whispered. She felt his stubble against her cheek. They weren’t kissing, but their lips were millimeters apart. Vanessa leaned
in, and her lips touched his.
Cut!
“We’ve had a great day together, haven’t we, sonny?” The truck driver, whose real name was Hank, asked as he rested his beefy
arm on Dan’s shoulder. The truck pulled onto the West Side Highway.
Yeah, right, Dan thought. The whole time, Hank had given Dan life lessons on women. “You can just drop me off at Ninety-sixth Street,”
Dan said hurriedly. “Actually, here’s fine.” Close enough.
“Okay,” Hank said, looking disappointed as he reached over Dan to open the door of the truck.
“Thanks!” Dan yelled as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and began making his way to his apartment three blocks up.
New York was freezing, but the air felt redemptive. He felt like he could run up a mountain.
He bounded up the stairs two at a time. Maybe it had been the outdoor air, but he barely felt winded as he reached the fifth-floor landing outside the apartment. Or maybe it
was the fact that, unlike his roommate at Evergreen, who’d hooked up with almost every girl in the Victoria Woodhull Vegan
Womyn’s Co-Op, Dan would never have to go through his life uncertain that he was loved and in love. He dug into his khakis
and found his keys, held on a simple lanyard key chain that Jenny had made one summer at craft camp.
He opened the door and heard the muted sound of a film playing in Vanessa’s room. He couldn’t wait to see her face when he surprised her.
“Honey, I’m hooooome!” Dan called eagerly. He cracked a grin at how simple and lovely the phrase sounded. He swung the door
to his bedroom open.
“Dan!” Vanessa was lying on his bed, naked save for her red boy shorts with black X’s all over them. But she wasn’t alone.
She was with a guy. An equally naked guy.
Dan gaped, unsure of what was going on. Was this a bad joke or a dream or some weird sweat lodge vision?
Vanessa scrambled out of bed and stood up, holding the blue flannel duvet around her body. “I can explain,” she stuttered
helplessly. Her face was flushed, her lips looked red and bee-stung, and her dark eyes were wide and confused.
“Who the fuck is that?” Dan heard himself asking. He felt like he was a character in one of those lame romantic comedies that
Jenny loved. In just a second he’d find out that this wasn’t Vanessa, but her long-lost twin, who’d sneaked into the Humphreys’
house to hide her boyfriend from the Feds.
Right.
“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Hollis
off his hat and ran a hand through his thick jet-black hair.
“Okay,” Vanessa muttered, pressing play. She took a seat on the floor, as far away from Hollis as possible. The screen sprang
to life, panning out from a MetroCard stuck to the floor of the subway car to a homeless man on the plastic orange seats,
surrounded by all of his belongings, peacefully reading a book.
Next, the camera zoomed wildly, capturing the faces of people as they were rushing to the subway. Hollis sat up. “This is
my favorite part.”
“Really?” Vanessa asked, flattered. He’d critiqued her work before, but this felt so much more personal.
The bedroom setting can have that effect.
“Yeah. But sometimes you’re so removed. I just want to know more about your subjects. Why you chose them. Who they are,” Hollis
mused as the camera jump-cut from an old lady feeding pigeons in Union Square to a group of revelers spilling out from the
subway.
Vanessa continued to watch as the camera shakily followed two girls wearing matching silver sequined dresses trip up the First
Avenue L station stairs. From their backs, you couldn’t tell how old they were. They looked like they were searching for danger.
Hollis tenderly cupped Vanessa’s chin and pulled her into him. “This is what I’ve been wanting to do since the party,” he
whispered. She felt his stubble against her cheek. They weren’t kissing, but their lips were millimeters apart. Vanessa leaned
in, and her lips touched his.
Cut!
“We’ve had a great day together, haven’t we, sonny?” The truck driver, whose real name was Hank, asked as he rested his beefy
arm on Dan’s shoulder. The truck pulled onto the West Side Highway.
Yeah, right, Dan thought. The whole time, Hank had given Dan life lessons on women. “You can just drop me off at Ninety-sixth Street,”
Dan said hurriedly. “Actually, here’s fine.” Close enough.
“Okay,” Hank said, looking disappointed as he reached over Dan to open the door of the truck.
“Thanks!” Dan yelled as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and began making his way to his apartment three blocks up.
New York was freezing, but the air felt redemptive. He felt like he could run up a mountain.
He bounded up the stairs two at a time. Maybe it had been the outdoor air, but he barely felt winded as he reached the fifth-floor landing outside the apartment. Or maybe it
was the fact that, unlike his roommate at Evergreen, who’d hooked up with almost every girl in the Victoria Woodhull Vegan
Womyn’s Co-Op, Dan would never have to go through his life uncertain that he was loved and in love. He dug into his khakis
and found his keys, held on a simple lanyard key chain that Jenny had made one summer at craft camp.
He opened the door and heard the muted sound of a film playing in Vanessa’s room. He couldn’t wait to see her face when he surprised her.
“Honey, I’m hooooome!” Dan called eagerly. He cracked a grin at how simple and lovely the phrase sounded. He swung the door
to his bedroom open.
“Dan!” Vanessa was lying on his bed, naked save for her red boy shorts with black X’s all over them. But she wasn’t alone.
She was with a guy. An equally naked guy.
Dan gaped, unsure of what was going on. Was this a bad joke or a dream or some weird sweat lodge vision?
Vanessa scrambled out of bed and stood up, holding the blue flannel duvet around her body. “I can explain,” she stuttered
helplessly. Her face was flushed, her lips looked red and bee-stung, and her dark eyes were wide and confused.
“Who the fuck is that?” Dan heard himself asking. He felt like he was a character in one of those lame romantic comedies that
Jenny loved. In just a second he’d find out that this wasn’t Vanessa, but her long-lost twin, who’d sneaked into the Humphreys’
house to hide her boyfriend from the Feds.
Right.
“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Hollis
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