Emma Straub - Modern Lovers

“I never come here,” Sarah said. “There are too many crackheads. And yuppies. Both.” Ruby didn’t even respond. Sarah lit the joint, and they walked a little bit more slowly, curving by a small waterfall and then turning deeper into the wilderness. “I heard that there’s a really big cruising spot right here. For gay sex.” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, obviously, I’m just saying, that’s what I heard.”

“I’m not the gay police,” Ruby said, taking the joint out of Sarah’s hand.

They got to the main road, and Ruby tucked the joint into her hand. The coast was clear, and they walked through the playground, which was empty. The hidden spot was empty, too, except for an old guy in a tank top doing half push-ups on a bench, but he wouldn’t bother them. That was another thing Ruby would miss about New York, if she were leaving: she’d miss how much space people gave you. You could have a fucking sobbing fit on the subway and no one would mess with you. You could barf in a garbage can on the street corner and no one would mess with you. If you were giving off invisible vibes, people respected that. People thought New Yorkers were rude, but really they were just leaving you to your own stuff. It was respectful! In a city with so many people, a New Yorker would always pretend not to see you when you didn’t want to be seen.

“So, he told you?” Sarah said, once they were sitting on a bench in the shade.

“He didn’t have to tell me. It’s pretty obvious that you guys are together.” Ruby passed the roach back to Sarah and pulled a cigarette out of her bag.

“Oh,” Sarah said. “No, I mean, we are, but I meant about your parents’ place.” She clipped the roach and held it still until it had cooled down, and then tucked it into her little crocheted weed necklace. “About the fire.”

“He told me that you did it by accident, basically on purpose. That’s what he told me.” Ruby stared at Sarah, whose eyes were streaked with red, like little peppermints.

Sarah giggled. “Are you serious? Then why would you come and meet me? Jeez, Ruby! Are you going to kick my ass?”

“I was thinking about it,” Ruby said. She crossed her arms, but then she couldn’t smoke, so she uncrossed them again and just cracked her knuckles instead.

“Oh, my God, Ruby, no!” Sarah waved her hands like they were stuck on a deserted island and she was trying to signal a passing airplane. “It was Dust! That’s what I was trying to talk to you about! Dust totally set the fire! I was right there. We were in the little alley, you know, behind Nico’s house, and behind Hyacinth, and Dust was all, ‘Let’s go down here and see if we can get into the kitchen, I want some of that cheese’—what’s that cheese you guys have?”

“Mozzarella?”

“No, the fancy kind, on the sandwich with the eggs and the cucumbers? It’s like cream cheese, only sort of sour? Anyway, he was like, ‘Let’s see if we can sneak in there after Ruby closes,’ which, I grant you, would have been a fucked-up thing to do anyway, but it probably wouldn’t even have happened. Anyway, so we get to the fence, and we could see the people leaving, and you and the other guys cleaning up, and then I look at Dust, and he’s got this little wad of newspaper and his lighter, and he’s trying to light the fence. I was like, ‘What the fuck?’ and he was like, ‘Sarah, this doesn’t concern you,’ and I was like, ‘Hell yes it does, if you go to jail for setting something on fire, because obviously I’m the one who’s going to have to hire a lawyer, you know?’ And so I went back into Nico’s house, and then a little while later Dust came back in, and then we all heard the sirens, and I was like, ‘Shit.’”

“He told me that you set it by accident, with some candles.” Ruby couldn’t tell if the fogginess in her head was the weed or what Sarah was telling her. “But you’re saying that Dust did it? Actually on purpose?”

Sarah giggled again. “I know it’s not funny, but seriously, Ruby, you are way, way weirder than I thought. How many times do I need to say it? Dust set the fire. On purpose.”

“And he’s your boyfriend.” Ruby knew she sounded like a moron, but her brain wouldn’t make better sentences. She felt like she was trying to talk with her mouth full of cotton candy.

“It’s pretty serious,” Sarah said, happy to switch topics of conversation. “We’ve been talking about moving in together, up at school. He could get a job, maybe audit some classes. Dust wants to be an architect, did you know that? He’s got all these models at his house, little things he’s built. He’s really good.”

“You’ve been to his house?” This was the twilight zone. It must be the weed. Sarah was probably saying something completely different. Maybe Ruby was still asleep! That must be it.

Sarah looked offended. “Of course I’ve been to his house. I’m his girlfriend .” She narrowed her already beady eyes at Ruby. “You never went to his house?”

“What makes you think that I’m not going to call the police?” Ruby was flushed, and sweating. She piled her hair up on top of her head and stuck it there with a big plastic clip. The old guy was peeling off his tank top and laying it over the back of the bench. He dropped to his knees and started doing crunches, squeezing his wrinkled brown belly together over and over again.

“I would, if I were you.” Sarah shrugged. “I mean, obviously, I don’t think you should, because I don’t want him to get into trouble, but I think that if I were you, I totally would. It’s up to you. We’ll be gone soon, you know? Like, who would it help? He’s not going to set your house on fire. He’s not even going to be here.”

“Even Dust isn’t going to be here,” Ruby said, more to herself than to Sarah. She took a long drag of her cigarette and then let it drop to the ground. “Fuck it,” she said. “Fuck it all.” Ruby stood up and walked away without saying good-bye. Behind her, she heard Sarah start to sing some Bob Marley, and so Ruby jogged until she was out of earshot and out of breath.

Elizabeth arrived at the Montauk station with nothing but a prickly straw hat, a bottle of wine she’d plucked out of the fridge, a toothbrush, a bathing suit, and a clean pair of underwear, all of which were jammed into a tote bag on her shoulder. The hat had been scratching her arm since the Atlantic Terminal station, but the train was crowded, and there was nothing to be done. Add one more wound to the pile. The train car was full of frat boys and other summertime revelers at full tilt, and so Elizabeth decided to stay seated until they’d all stumbled off. She wasn’t in a rush. The invitation had barely been real — she knew that. But she also knew that she needed to get out of the city, and that Zoe was her friend, and if Jane didn’t like it, well, tough. She’d had two glasses of wine at home and another two on the train, which was way more than she ever drank, especially during the day. Even though the train had stopped moving, it still seemed to be swaying slightly, and when the rest of the car was empty, Elizabeth clutched the back of her seat and stood up, knocking her forehead on the baggage rack overhead.

The Kahn-Bennett Subaru was waiting, just as Zoe had promised. Elizabeth waved and squinted, trying to make out who was inside, and hurried as quickly as she could, though her flip-flops kept sliding off, and then she’d have to chase them a bit. When she finally made it to the car, it was only Zoe.

“You okay?” Zoe asked. She looked great — summer was her season. Her skin was clear and glowing like bronze, and her hair was pushed off her face with a colorful scarf. Bingo poked his head out of the backseat, and Elizabeth leaned over and let him lick her on the nose.