Dylan’s party is already in full swing when Juliet and I arrive. I’ve never been to such a beautiful apartment before. It’s an astonishing corner property with an enormous wrap terrace. Dylan gives us a tour around the living room, dining room, two master suites, and the three bathrooms. Every room is a corner with two exposures and access to the terrace and there are more than 1000 square feet of outdoor space. Almost every window in the place has a view of the park.

“This is as good as it gets as far as white glove, full-service, pre-war condos with views of the park are concerned,” Dylan explains. “It was practically a steal at $6 million.”

My mouth drops open. I turn to Juliet, but she doesn’t seem fazed. I haven’t been living in New York for long, but I’ve noticed that few real New Yorkers will go out of their way to act impressed with something. Unlike in LA, where people act excited over the smallest things, like having coffee in the same café as Seth Rogen. I’m not sure Los Angelenos are any more impressed than New Yorkers. I’m just certain that they act as if they are.

While Dylan pours us our drinks, I look around at the other guests at the party. Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. I was thinking that it would either be an elegant affair or a typical college party. But this is a mashup. A bunch of college kids in expensive suits and five-inch Christian Louboutin heels and plastic red cups and beer pong.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot them. Tristan and Tea. Dancing to Taylor Swift. Shit.

“Hey. Hey, Alice!” Juliet tugs at my arm. I look up at her.

“You’ve been staring at them for close to a minute.”

I roll my eyes. “So?”

“So? I want to remind you about a little promise that you made to me. To kiss someone tonight? Do you remember that?”

“Yes, I remember. But the night’s young,” I say.

“It may very well be. But it won’t stay that way if you waste your time staring at your ex and his new girlfriend.”

“Oh shut up.” I turn on my heels and walk away. I make a big show of leaving, but I’m only partly kidding. I’m glad that she’d pulled me out of my trance. Now I just need a moment to regroup.

The door to one of the rooms is partly ajar. Perfect! I need some privacy. I push the door open and enter a large, spacious office. I look around at the gorgeous built-in shelving that lines three walls of the room.

“There’s so much mahogany in this space, it makes me wonder if there’s any left in Central America,” Dylan says.

“Oh my God, you scared me!” I jump. “Sorry I’m in here. I was just getting a little claustrophobic out there.”

“Yeah, seeing your ex with a date would do that, huh?” he smiles. I know Dylan means well, but sometimes he can be such an asshole.

“And why are you hiding out?” I ask. He shrugs and comes closer to me.

Man, he really is good looking. He’s got well-defined arms and a strong jaw. Kind eyes.

“I like your hair like that,” he says, looking at me. I usually wear my hair up in a ponytail or a loose bun, but today I’m wearing it down per Juliet’s instructions. I’m also wearing lipstick. Shimmery and pink. It feels sticky, but it does make my lips pop.

I smile and flutter my eyelashes like I’m some sort of 1960s movie star or Ginger from Gilligan’s Island. But I don’t do it on purpose. Earlier that evening, Juliet had glued on my first pair of false lashes and they’re so heavy that I can barely lift up my eyelids.

Behind Dylan is a wall of track and field trophies.

“Wow, are all those yours?” I ask. A big smile sweeps over his whole face, lighting up the room.

“No, not all. Some of these are my dad’s. He ran in high school and college, too.”

His words glow with pride. But then a tinge of disappointment sets in.

“Families are complicated, aren’t they?” I say. He knows that I know a little bit about what had happened between him and his father. And he has made no secret of the fact that his father is in Europe and this party is taking place without his consent.

“It’s funny how similar we are, really. How much we have in common and how much we still don’t get about each other,” he says.

“Maybe the things that you don’t get about each other are the things that you don’t fully understand about yourself. Perhaps that’s what makes it so hard,” I say.

“Maybe.” He shrugs and changes the subject. “Agh, enough about the disappointment that I am to my father. This is a fucking party, right? Are you having a good time?”

“Definitely.” I nod and take a gulp of my drink. “Oh so, I meant to ask. How’s Peyton?”

The expression on Dylan’s face falls a bit, but not so much that I really pay much attention to it.

“She’s good.” He shrugs. “She couldn’t make it tonight. Had some school thing come up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Well, thanks for having me here to celebrate with you!”

I throw my arms around his neck and give him a brief hug. And suddenly, something changes. It’s uncanny how it’s possible to enter a moment thinking you’re on a plane of existence and then find yourself on an entirely different plane altogether. Well, that is precisely what had happened.

I hugged Dylan as a friend and a roommate. And in our brief moment, a thought popped into my head. What if I kiss him? And when I pulled away, I no longer saw Dylan, my roommate and my friend. Instead, that Dylan had somehow morphed into an entirely different creature: a crush.

And then I did something even more insane then simply think a crazy thought.

Before I pull away completely, I lean in and press my lips onto his. He tastes of vodka and olives and his lips are soft and warm. At first touch, there’s a moment of hesitation. I feel his body questioning what’s going on and wait for him to push me away. But he surprises me. Dylan takes me in his arms and presses his body close to mine. When he runs his coarse tongue on the inside of my lips, my legs feel as if they’d fallen asleep.

* * *

“You kissed Dylan? Dylan? Our roommate, Dylan?” Juliet asks back in our room at 5 o’clock in the morning. I have no memory of getting home, I don’t even know if we’d taken the subway or a cab, but I remember everything about that kiss.

“Hey, I promised that I’d kiss someone tonight, right? Well, I did,” I say, flipping over on my side to face her.

“When I made you make that promise, I wanted you to kiss someone new. Not another one of our roommates.”

“Well, you should’ve been more specific.” I smile.

“Okay, fine.” Juliet rolls her eyes. “Do what you want. I just don’t want you to get hurt, right? You know that I’m just looking out for you.”

“You don’t need to look out for me,” I say. “Dylan’s a nice guy. You know that.”

“Yes, I know that. I also know that his girlfriend of 2 years, Peyton, had just broken up with him today. On his birthday. So he’s not someone who’s in the best state of mind to start up with at this point.”

Juliet goes on and on, but I stop listening after she mentions Peyton.

Peyton. Of course, Peyton.

I had completely forgotten about Peyton. About the very existence of her.

“They broke up?” I ask. I can’t believe that they’d broken up.

But then again, she did tell me that they did have the tendency to break up and make up.

As if she knows what I’m thinking, Juliet says, “It looks like it might be for good this time.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if their break up is a good thing. I don’t know if I want them to still be together. Either way it’s complicated.

“Okay, fine, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I finally admit. I half expect Juliet to gloat, but she surprises me. Instead of reveling in being right, she just sends me a sympathetic look.

“On the other hand,” she says, “it was just a kiss right? No big deal.”

Yeah, maybe not. Except that it is. Dylan is the first person whom I’ve kissed since kissing Tristan exclusively, for two years.

Well, except for that other guy…