Rachel Cohn - Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

Thom hands me a crumpled fifty-dollar bill. He says, “Scot and I chipped in. We saw that kiss between you and Nick.” Thom’s not the singer of their band, but he nevertheless can channel the Aretha, not En Vogue, version of a song when he sings out, “Giving him something he can feel!”

“I don’t get it,” I say.

The hood of the van obstructs our view, but we can hear the rattle of the Yugo engine threatening to come to life. “No time to explain,” Thom says. “Let’s just say Scot and I hate the fucking guts of Nick’s ex and we’d like to give him a little assistance with moving on with his life. So, please, take the boy out tonight, see the city, see the backseat of the Yugo, I don’t care, just please take our friend out tonight. We’ve already decided that we like you and that you’ll be Nick’s salvation. No pressure or anything.”

Flattery could get him everywhere and I am all about salvation right now, but, “Can’t,” I tell him, though I’m tempted. Really tempted. I’m curious what would happen if I dared another leap toward Nick’s hand – or other parts, like that really tasty NoMo mouth. “Nick’s giving me and my drunk friend a ride back to Jersey. She’s asleep in the back of the Yugo now.”

Thom says, “We’ve got a mattress in the back of the van. We’ll trade you. We’ll get her home if you’ll take on Nick tonight.”

I decide some living is worth doing. “Done,” I tell him. I slip the fifty into my inside shirt pocket, then scribble the directions to my house on Thom’s hand. I tell him where to find the house key under the potted plant and not to worry about my parents – they’ll probably tip him for getting Caroline home and making me go out on a date with a live male. And I am not feeling frigid about Nick at all. I can’t remember the last time I felt anticipation – not of sex (necessarily), but of getting to know a delicious new person, even if he is a poor schmuck.

So we’re settled, and I get out of the van with Thom, who enlists Scot to help him transport Caroline from the Yugo to the van. But once I’m back inside the Yugo, I have no chance to explain to Nick the new order of this middle of the night.

Because through the windshield, I see that Randy at the wall is doing the soul-brother shake with a new arrival who happens to be the mind-fucking guy who turned me Sub Z last year. Apparently Uncle Lou’s actual nephew did not survive his year on the kibbutz in South Africa. The call of the real wild – Manhattan – must have been too great for him. And fuck, the Evil Ex has seen me and now he’s at my side at the passenger door of the Yugo and he’s saying, “Hey, baby, you ready to pick up where we left off ?”

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