The Garden? As in . . . New York City, Madison Square Garden? “Um . . . that'd be great,” I say. “But . . . well, I don't have a car. You know, rules and all.”
“I can take care of that,” Lindsey replies, smiling. “Just one rule. I know you don't have a lot of chances to take leave, but . . . separate hotel rooms, capiche?”
“Of course,” I answer at once, both relieved and disappointed. Still, I’ll take what I can get. Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky. “So how do we get tickets?”
Lindsey laughs and goes back over to her bike. “Come on, we'll talk about it as we ride back to post.”
We cross the GW bridge and into New York City itself, and I'm enjoying the feeling of freedom I'm still buzzing on from leaving post. I came down here once as a plebe and spent the two days feeling like a total hick. Not only was my haircut out of place, but my clothes too. Everything was like a neon sign saying that I’m not from New York and I'm just a goofball from the Midwest.
It's a little better this time. I intentionally made sure to get some decent civilian clothes over Christmas break, but still, there's no disguising my haircut or the fact that I sit like I've got a steel rod jammed up my ass. At least I've had ten days to let my hair grow out a little bit, it's not too bad right now.
“So do you come down to the city often?” I ask as we enter. “I mean, you don't have the same rules I do.”
“No, but I don't have a lot of spending money either,” Lindsey says, giving me a look that I can't quite read. “By the way, you aren't paying for everything. It’s not that kind of date.”
Going halfsies? Well, it’s a start. “Sure, I guess. So, where do we park?”
The hotel isn't the best in the city, but we’re not exactly working with a big budget here. Still, it has parking for guests, and we're only staying one night, so it's not too bad.
“We'll leave my car here. The Garden's not too far away, and we can use the subways if you want to go far,” Lindsey says after we check in. “What time is it?”
I check my watch and see we've still got three hours to game time. “Only about four. How do you want to kill time? Sightseeing?”
Lindsey laughs and shakes her head. “No way in hell. Actually, I could eat a good burger. You ever notice that it's nearly impossible to get a good burger in Highland Falls? And don't tell me you're happy because McDonald's delivers either. Only damn McDonald's that delivers in the country, but still, it's Mickey Dees.”
“I can do that,” I say, adjusting the collar on my jacket. I've been fiddling with it for the past forty-five minutes, trying to not make it look like I'm a military guy who's not wearing military clothes, but finally, I give up. “Can you give me a hand with this?”
“Why?” Lindsey asks, smiling. “I think you look handsome in it. But here, try this.”
She holds out her hand, and I realize what she's offering. I put my hand in hers, but as soon as our fingers touch, there's a spark, a connection that I can see shoot through her eyes. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself,” I say, giving her a wink. “I'd say New York isn't ready for us.”
She’s not dressed up too much—jeans like me, with a nice leather coat and a dark turtleneck that highlights her blonde hair. She blushes slightly, smiling. “Whatever. I know a Shake Shack nearby that we can walk to and still get a good burger.”
It takes us about twenty minutes to walk to the restaurant, and the whole time, I can’t help but think of how this night’s going to end. She emphasized it wasn’t that kind of date, but I can tell she’s into me. If things go right, maybe it can become that kind of date. “Hey, Aaron?”
“Yeah?” I ask as we wait on the corner by the Empire State Building. “What is it?”
“You've spent three blocks just looking at me,” Lindsey says, her blue eyes gleaming.
“Sorry,” I apologize, laughing a little bit. “Just . . . gathering wool.”
She gives me a look, as if she knows I’m not telling the whole truth. Of course, I’m not. I’m thinking about trying to get laid. You don't just come out and say that. But she waves it off, and we grab our food.
I barely taste my burger, which should piss me off since I paid seventeen dollars for it, but I don't mind at all. I'm just happy to be in the city with a hot date, and the more we talk, the better things get. “You mentioned that you went to community college. What for?” I ask as we sip our shakes. “What'd you study?”
“Office management,” Lindsey says with a shrug. “It's not the sexiest of degrees, but I wanted to do something. I was hoping at the time to transfer to a four-year school, but that's still going to be a few years off. What about you?”
“I’m not really decided yet. I want something that’ll be useful. Management might give me the skills to be a better officer. I mean, if I have to do at least five years in the Army after I graduate, I might as well be good at my job, right?”