they didnt know

it became apparent to us, not gradually, but with a sudden painful thrust, an urgent realization that wasnt verbalized but that was felt simultaneously.

they didnt know, she mouthed to me as soon as it became obvious.

i shook my head slowly. no, they didnt know.

hoodie bit her lower lip like she does when shes trying not to laugh, when shes holding back laughter from something terrifying and obscene, not something funny. she started to stand up, and it was then that we realized how far into this we were- she was wearing ben's clothes, ben the non-brother, the one neither one of us had any interest in, the one we had gently repelled all evening. the simple fact of it wasnt too strange- we were in his apartment in alphabet city, it was daylight- but what it meant, to us at that moment, was an amorphous, suffocating truth. they didnt know.

we had met them just hours before, outside a bar in soho because our other friend, the one who lived in new york, who we were visiting because all of our 21st birthdays were within a week of each other and we had grown up together- was made for these situations, these shadowy bars that are as narrow as the people inside of them. paige knew people inside- we didnt, and hoodie wasnt used to wearing stilettos. we were leaning up against a waist high electrical looking box when they approached us, asking for a light. donovan and patrick davies- donovan who we would later learn was only 18 and patrick, who we found out was married. donovan and patrick davies, perfect for us, full of giddy possibilities. and their friend ben.

we walked down ludlow and found a bar with a jukebox full of built to spill and bowie, one that stayed open till four. paige got too drunk and had to leave in a cab, telling us as she removed her strappy pink heels, to come home whenever. when the sun was beginning to shatter the nightsky and we realized that they didnt know, it also occurred to us that we should have left with her, that they were probabaly expecting us to, and that we certainly shouldnt have invited ourselves over to bens. but we did, the five of us piling into a cab heading towards a street called "U."

this, i decided as i looked back at her in the cab, sitting on the laps of three total strangers, was real. this was what we wanted when we came to visit paige- not the guggenheim or 5th Ave. we wanted random strangers and nights that had no end. but as real as it was, i didnt want it to feel real, not real in the florescent light sence, not real in the daybreak sense. and after a few hours of watching caddyshack, thats what it was becoming.

but no-- thats not why we decided so abruptly to leave. thats not why we, in one motion suspended by the jibberish coming from both of us at the same time, picked up our things and walked out, leaving them to call out behind us "whats wrong?? can we call you?" no, it was something ben said, some abrasive comment, that made us understand how misunderstood we had been. i cant remember it now- im not sure if the words actually registered or it was just what he seemed to be implying- that we werent giving what we had promised, that we were the kind of people who wouldnt mind words being flung at us, words that were seeped in something that felt nearly violent. they didnt know- they didnt know us.

why, how, could we have expected them to?

we got in the cab, holding our shoes in our hands, trying desparately to remember paige's address- "um near the UN building, 1st ave and 2nd street, or is it 2nd ave and 1st st??" we looked at each other and felt like strangers- not to each other but to ourselves. the blue light of dawn was mocking, menacing. it was seven am.

half way to paiges i had a pang of regret- that we would never see them again, that we had grossly misinterpreted the situation. that we shouldnt blame the brothers for something that ben had said.

we should go back. hoodie looked at me with caution- she didnt want me to say it if i didnt mean it. we should, we should go back and explain ourselves and just say, you know, if you want to hang out tomorrow...

she reached into the front seat and flapped her hand a bit. "would you mind turning around?? and going back... to exactly where we came from?"

and then there we were- in broad daylight, with our shoes waiting for us in the cab, our mascara practically on our cheeks. we couldnt remember bens apartment number, making it impossible to ring his room. so, we guessed. we took turns closing our eyes and pushing a button, each time to no response. but this time, we would tell ourselves, this time if its not them then its a sign. we'll leave.

we ended up pushing all twenty buttons, and writing a note on the back of a receipt that said "Sorry we left like that! call us if youre up for hanging out tonight!" and wrote my phone number. we looked at the carlined street. the brothers lived in queens, surely they had a car. it was faulty reasoning and we knew it then but we did it anyway- we picked a car that looked most like them and stuck it underneath the windshield wiper.

we took a second to look at the tiny yellow receipt, both of us imagining them coming out and seeing it, glad that it wasnt quite over yet. it was unlikely. but we also knew, it wasnt impossible.

the problem was, they didnt.