Fine. I’ll do it.”
We fought our way into the subway against people elbowing their way out. I slumped in a seat still warm from the behind of its previous occupant. I did everything I could to distract myself, so my mind wouldn’t think about what could be happening above while we were trapped below. I tried counting the dingy white tiles of the station wall outside, but the train lurched forward and thwarted my plan. I counted sneakers. There were twenty-four; twelve pairs. Then I worried all that counting was a sign I had OCD, so I stared at Roberto and tried to send him a telepathic message: I hate you for making me do this. He stood in front of me, obliviously holding on to the bar overhead while staring at some girl’s ass. I started counting asses.
When we exited at Sixty-eighth Street, I had to cover my ears because of the noise. Across the street from the subway entrance, behind a tall blue construction fence, a building was being torn down. As part of a brick wall crashed down, I glared at Roberto, who stared straight ahead and pretended nothing was happening. I followed him, wanting to get away from the noise and destruction. Since he seemed to have a plan and I had nowhere to be, I stayed silent until he stopped at the zoo and reached into his pocket to pay.
“You don’t have to do that,” I croaked.
Roberto looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Forget it, man.”
We walked in silence, avoiding the sea lions in the Central Garden. I wasn’t sure if the sparse crowd was because it was nearly closing time or because of the weather. I hadn’t spent much time there. Or in any zoo, for that matter. It was small. Intimate. It might have been a nice date if I wasn’t walking toward death’s door with Roberto.
“Here we are,” Roberto announced.
I looked around. “The North Pole?”
Roberto ignored me to stare at a polar bear, who took little notice of our arrival. The bear undoubtedly loved winter in New York. I wondered what he did during the summer. Probably spent most of it swimming. Maybe he had a time-share in Greenland.
“What up, iceberg?” Roberto greeted the bear. “What’s the fizz, fuzzy?”
“You and the bear are close?” I asked.
“He’s not bad for a white dude. I come here a lot when I need to think. Or be alone, you know?”
“You usually have the zoo to yourself?”
“You usually such a smartass?”
“Sorry. It’s the cold medication talking.”
“No, I don’t usually have the place to myself. But even when it’s crowded, I can tune it all out. Make everybody invisible, like they don’t exist.”
“Do you always come to see the bear?”
“Yeah. No. I mean, yeah, I always come to see him, but not always just him. I like to spend time with the sea lions, too. But that’s about it. Sometimes I check out other stuff, but mostly just those two, you know? There’s other bears, too. Somewhere.”
“Interesting.” I rubbed my forehead.
“You feel that bad?”
I thought about Morgan and her two snakes back in our apartment. “No. I’m cool.”
“Good. I haven’t been here for a while. I’ve been saving up for this apartment thing, so I had to wait until I could spare the coins.”
I reached into my pocket to see if the condoms had miraculously turned into money. No luck. “Hey,” I said, “as long as you’re in a spending mood, why don’t you buy me a cup of coffee? I’ll stay here and keep your bear company.”
“Sure.”
Roberto headed off. I leaned on the railing and watched the bear, who was playing with a plastic barrel. He seemed to be having the time of his life. I wondered what Roberto thought about when he came here. I wondered if he wanted me to ask him. Maybe that was why he’d brought me here in the first place.
The barrel flew from the bear’s gigantic paws and into the water. Without hesitation, he got up, did a belly flop on top of the barrel, then held it in his paws while paddling around his personal swimming pool.
“Nice job, if you can get it,” I mumbled.
“His name is Gus,” a voice said.
“Huh?”
“The bear. His name is Gus.”
I looked at the man who stood next to me, but not too close. Not bad. Not really my type—a little too neat around the edges. But cute. Maybe in his late twenties.
“I’m Mark.”
“Nick.”
We shook hands. I sniffed and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my jacket before I could stop myself.
“Got that cold that’s going around, huh?” Mark asked. It beat Nice weather we’re having, huh? Plus it was more accurate.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Mark looked back at the bear and said, “They’re becoming extinct, you know. Because we’re fucking up the climate and their habitat.”
“Figures,” I muttered, staring at the doomed bear. “Nothing lasts.”
Before Mark could answer, I heard Roberto say, “Here’s your coffee. Hot and black, just the way you like your—”
“Roberto, this is Mark,” I said. “Mark, Roberto.”
“—bears,” Roberto finished. The two of them exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher. Maybe Mark thought Roberto was my boyfriend. Maybe Roberto was assessing whether he should get lost and leave me with Mark.
“Roberto’s my roommate. One of them,” I said. Then I sneezed four times in rapid succession, sloshing coffee all over the place.
Mark smiled—he had great teeth—and said, “You really should do something about that.”
“It’s just a stupid cold,” I said.
Except I was starting to wonder, because what happened next made me think I might be hallucinating. Roberto and Mark closed in on me a little, so that when they started walking away from the bear exhibit, it was automatic for me to fall in step between them. It was only when we left the park and Mark hailed a cab that my senses returned.
“Are we going somewhere?” I asked.
“We are,” Mark said.
“All three of us?”
Whatever expression I wore made Roberto say, “It’s chill.”
It was the last thing any of us said until we were in the back of a cab and Mark gave the driver an address. I considered the ache in my muscles and the wooziness of my thought processes. It didn’t seem like a good time for my first three-way, even if I did have two condoms
