In From the Cold: A Courtland Novella by Grant Cat

Author:Grant, Cat [Grant, Cat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-08-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Seth

I wasn’t expecting Bilal to call, so when he did, I nearly dropped the phone. “Hey,” I said, pushing back the hood on my jacket even though it was cold enough outside to freeze my ears off. “How’d midterms go?”

“They’re over, thankfully.” He sounded more clipped and British than usual today. “To be perfectly honest, I’m surprised you remember me.”

Was he serious? “Oh, yeah, I’ve had a dozen other guys sleeping on my couch the last couple weeks. Which one were you?”

To my relief, he laughed. “Point taken—both of them. I’ve decided I do indeed deserve a weekend away from this lovely but exceedingly dull little town.”

I laughed, dropping onto a bench near the arts quad. “What the hell have you been smoking? I want some.”

He laughed too, though it sounded shaky. “Nothing so drastic. I just… in between studying and classes and more studying, I realized studying is essentially all I do. I’ve never taken the time to explore Ithaca, much less New York City or—”

“You’re kidding? You’ve never been to the city?”

“Only passing through on my way to or from the airport.”

“Well, we’ll have to fix that.” My mind raced with possibilities. The Guggenheim. The Metropolitan. A concert or a show, if he was up for that. It was kind of late in the year for it, but maybe they’d have a soccer match going at the Garden—

“…should I meet you?” Bilal said, yanking me back to the present.

“Um, why don’t you drop by my place around five, and we can grab a bus to the train station together.”

“Five this evening, or…?”

“Five tomorrow morning. It’s a pretty long train trip into the city.”

“Oh, that’s right.” A few seconds of awkward silence, then he said, “I suppose we’ll be staying over somewhere, then?”

My nails dug into my palms, stinging and smarting even through my leather gloves. “Is that okay?”

“I think so.” His voice still sounded a bit raspy, though I was glad he wasn’t coughing anymore. “Although I can’t afford anywhere too terribly expensive.”

No way were we staying in a hotel when my folks had a perfectly good apartment—penthouse, actually—we could crash at. I had my own key and everything. But best to keep that part a surprise. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I got it covered.”

* * *

The noise pollution was always the first thing I noticed whenever I walked out of Grand Central. A cacophony of screeching tires, car horns and voices. Then came the lights, bright and in-your-face, even at high noon. Not that I didn’t like the city, but I definitely preferred it in small, weekend-sized doses.

Bilal came out of the station a few steps behind me, staring at all the high-rises. “This is much more impressive than it looks on television.”

“See? I knew you’d like it.” It’d turned into a nice day, still chilly but sunny and blue-skied, a huge contrast to Ithaca’s two solid weeks of gloom and cloud cover. “What d’you want to do?”

“There are so many choices, but…” His throat worked.

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