On your left, Helena shouted. A couple holding hands shifted to their right. Two ponytails, one red and one brunette, bounced up and down as they jogged past pedestrians on the West Side Highway. It was a picture-perfect winter day, a cloudless sky, a crisp thirty degrees, the kind when you breathe in the air it’s so sharp it cuts your lungs and makes you feel like you’re tasting blood and metal.
Claire’s watch dinged: five miles, clocked. Hey, we hit five miles, she shared with Helena. The two friends clicked off their Garmins and strolled towards an empty bench facing Hoboken. Claire had taken the train over from Hoboken to jog with Helena, as part of their half marathon training program. But also to gossip, as they usually did Sunday mornings. This time bottomless brunch was replaced with cardio in efforts to keep a New Years resolution of training for a race.
Do you remember that guy I met at my cousin’s wedding last year? Helena chirped as the two girls sat down.
Yea, the one who works for the NBA right? Claire teared into a protein bar.
Yea. Anyway. I went out with him a while back and he’s nice but not for me. But I think he may be for you.
Claire scoffed. Another boy Helena dated that wasn’t for her. Okay, she said. Sure. It was easier to entertain the idea with Helena than tell her that sloppy seconds weren’t necessarily a nice thing.
Helena stared out at the river as Claire chewed her protein bar. She picked at her nails and bit her lip a bit, glancing at other runners jogging on the cold but sunny winter day. Her ears stung after taking her ear band off. She looked at Claire and then back at the water again. What, Claire said, mindlessly. Nothing, shrugged Helena. She picked her nails again.
What is it, Claire pushed as she swallowed the last of her protein bar. You’re quiet. I’m sorry if I wasn’t that into your date proposal, it’s just that --
That’s not it, quipped Helena. I want to tell you something. Confess something, really.
Claire sat up straighter, slightly relieved she didn’t have to explain why her friend’s offer was a bit inconsiderate, but also intrigued as to what Helena could have to say. She didn’t typically announce confessions; they usually poured out of her in freestyle format. For example, halfway through their jog she told Claire how much she fantasizes making out with Bill Nye, for no reason. That was just Helena, though; she was absurd, in the most charming way.
Alright, what’s up, Claire said. She moved her body to face Helena so she seemed open to the information she was about to receive. She was, but she read in a psychology book years ago in school that body positioning can help show how receptive to information you are. She wanted Helena to feel comfortable to spill, anything and everything.
OK, so, you know I’ve been in this relationship-like thing for a while. Helena kept looking down as she spoke. Claire nodded her head, listening. Right, okay, Helena said. So, even though I like them, there’s something you should know. She looked Claire dead in the eyes; she looked scared. I’ve been cheating on them.
Claire stared at Helena for a bit, her brain lagging with the information shared. Cheating? She questioned Helena, mostly to make sure she heard it right. Yes, cheating, Helena confirmed. I’ve been having an affair. Mostly emotional but sometimes physical. She was now locked in on Claire, scanning her for any semblance of a reaction. She knew this news wouldn’t be easy to deliver to her friend who held her in such high regard.
An affair? How could you be having an affair? It makes zero sense, Helena. Claire looked at her friend earnestly. This was her best friend, her most honest, true, real friend. She wore her heart on her sleeve and always told close friends to complete strangers her feelings and cries from the start to finish of The Family Stone because she knows how it ends and thinks it's the most honest reflection of love there is. This was Helena, who slapped their friend’s boyfriend in middle school for even talking to another girl outside of the gym. The same Helena who couldn’t even lie about a friend’s surprise party in the tenth grade. The same Helena who held Claire, crying on her bedroom floor, when her college boyfriend left his iMessages open on his laptop and revealed he was hooking up with someone in his biology class. There’s no way she was now the other woman.
Claire? Claire, say something. Helena tapped her friend on the shoulder but she jolted at her touch. An affair, Helena? Really? You are joking with me, right? Helena looked down at her fingers again and this time started to chew on a cuticle. After some time she looked straight back at Claire and shared yes, I am. And I’m ready to move on from my current relationship. Claire’s face paled at this statement. But you know how much they love you, Helena. You’re going to break their heart, you can’t leave. Helena’s head fell into her lap. I know, she said, exasperated. I know, I know, I know.
Let’s walk, I need to process this, Claire said. She stood up, turned right, and beelined for SoHo. Helena followed, trailing behind; her friend was tall and beautiful and had a much longer gait than she did. Helena always felt that she was a little donkey trotting behind a gorgeous mare when she went out with Claire. Claire was stunning and in another life should have been a runway model. But she was shy and hated the camera and makeup and anything that came with that line of work. Men loved gorgeous Claire, but she rarely loved them back. Helena thought she wasn’t over her college boyfriend who cheated on her, hence her reaction. Men loved Helena, too, but it was because she was charming and silly and liked to have fun. She wasn’t as naturally beautiful as Claire, but she wasn’t shy, which made dating in New York City fun for her. She poured more into her integrity and personality to build capital and for the longest time, it worked. Until now.
Claire finally broke the silence as the two women walked up Crosby Street. I can’t believe you’d cheat, Helena. You know how bad that is; you of all people know how bad that is.
I know, Claire, and I’m sorry. But you don’t understand. I think I need to move on. I think I need something new. I think that I’ve outgrown where I’m at.
The two got in line at Saturdays. Claire’s arms were crossed and her sleek brown hair was falling out of her ponytail. She looked so chic, sweat and all. Finally, she looked at Helena; she hadn’t looked at her all walk over. You need to tell them, Helena. It’s not fair and you know that.
I know, Helena said again. She felt that she had said “I know” over and over again already. But she did, she knew she was wrong. But when something feels more right than what you know, it’s hard to see the wrong. I just feel so much more alive in my affair. It feels new and exciting and I feel like I’ve been stagnant here. I need something fresh.
You can’t look at relationships that way, always needing something new and fresh. Everyone gets old eventually and usually you just have to find the person you don’t get bored of. Claire countered and looked directly at her friend. I know you’re scared of boredom, Helena. She then proceeded to order her iced latte in the dead of winter.
I’m not scared of boredom, I’m scared of being boring. Helena ordered her hot green tea with honey. The two made their way to the backyard where there were heat lamps and a man smoking a joint reading a book; a Saturday at Saturdays.
Doesn’t it get old? Claire asked
Does what get old?
I don’t know. Chasing things this much. You always are chasing something.
Yea. But. If I stop, I don’t know what I’ll do next.
Have you ever considered that you might let yourself be content with this beautiful life that you built, here? That there will always be something else out there but it doesn’t have to be yours?
Yea. But what’s the fun in that? I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied, with anything.
That sounds like an awful existence.
Or an amazingly rich, exciting one.
Claire rolled her eyes so far Helena thought they might get stuck there. The two sipped on their drinks in silence for a few moments. Helena could tell there was more at play here than just her infidelity; Claire didn’t want to lose her again.
You’re thinking about how I left all those years ago for another relationship far away, aren’t you.
Claire was taken aback, but softened and turned to her friend. I guess I was. I hated that time. But I let you go, didn’t I?
Yea. And I came back too, didn’t I?
Yea, but that was because you got bored. Your relationship was too laid back and all you did in it was get high all of the time.
Helena laughed and blushed at the same time. Pretty much, she said. But I missed you. Helena recoiled at her intimacy. It was far too early and they were far too sober to be having a heart to heart, but the fact of the matter was, she missed her friend when she lived thousands of miles away.
And you’ll miss me if you move again. Likely when your relationship doesn’t work out and things start getting bad and all of the sudden the new city you’re in doesn’t feel quite like home anymore because no one you love is there. Claire drained her ice coffee. There she was, Cold Claire.
Look, Claire. I’ve made mistakes and I’m going to continue to make many mistakes in my lifetime. But this mistake, and I’ll call it that, is one I want to and need to make, for me. It had been a while since Helena stood up to her friend like that, so sternly. Claire can be so icy that fire was needed from time to time.
Claire looked at Helena from the corner of her eyes and smirked. You know, Helena. You’re the only person I know who calls their decisions mistakes before they make them. And that level of self-awareness is rare and endearing. She even laughed, a genuine, happy laugh.
Okay, so… you’re not mad at me? Helena blew on her tea some more.
Well, I’m a bit bummed. And I really don’t like cheating. But if you’re going to cheat, it’s better to do it with cities than actual people. So who’s the lucky winner?
Helena grinned ear to ear. She had such a goofy grin when ecstatic, or drunk. Dublin, she whispered. It’s Dublin.
Dublin! At least when you left me all those years ago it was for sunny Los Angeles and I had a lovely place to visit in the winter. I heard it always rains there and there’s more sheep than people in Ireland.
Well, yea. But constant sunshine and a false sense of happiness can really wear on a person. At least Dublin is realistic. At least Dublin doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. At least Dublin -
Stop, stop waxing poetic like you’re a Sally Rooney character. I get it, you’re in love with Dublin! And you’re going to leave me and more importantly New York City for it.
The girls got up and exited the shop and walked some laps around the cobblestone streets of SoHo.
You know, it’s not that I don’t like New York. You know I love it here. It’s that I really think it’s time to experience something else in my life.
And you can’t do that anywhere closer? Like Philadelphia? Or Boston? I heard Boston is just like Dublin, it’s actually New York’s drunk Irish cousin. Claire was warming up to this idea. You can tell when she warms up to something because all of the sudden she’s making jokes and is in control of the narrative. Helena didn’t care what she needed to do to get her friend on board; she was just glad that she was.
No, I can’t. They don’t have Paul Mescal in Boston.
Okay, well, if you come home and are dating Paul Mescal, I’ll eat my words.
Right, yea.
Yea.
Remember when I told you that New York City would always be my boyfriend?
Yea, we were 12. And I got you a “New York Is My Boyfriend” tee shirt from Limited Too and your Mom got so mad because you weren’t even allowed to say the word boyfriend.
Oh wow I forgot that detail.
Yea, she wouldn’t let you wear it I think.
Of course she didn’t.
The girls paused outside of a new candle store that opened on West Broadway, peered at the window and stepped inside to browse. Helena picked up a candle that was meant to be scented like fresh cut lawns, tennis balls and blue skies. Pretty spot on, she shared as she sniffed the candle and put it down.
Anyways, Helena started as Claire sifted through the various scents like a drill sergeant in the army. I don’t think New York is my boyfriend. I think it’s my husband. And I think I need one more fling before I settle down, you know?
Claire turned around and held up a sandalwood-adjacent candle. I’m getting this one, she shared. And yes. I hear what you’re saying. But how do you know Dublin won’t be your husband. How do you know you will come back here? You can’t guarantee that, Helena.
I know. But it’s just a feeling I have. It’s a --
A tingly, bone-chilling feeling. I know you base a lot of your decisions after these feelings you get. Claire went to pay for the candle. She very rarely made a decision based on a feeling. Claire operated her personal life in pivot tables and spreadsheets and checklists but rarely feelings.
Well yea, and I’m just going to have to go with it.
I know. And I love you for that.
Helena smiled. She knew she was hurting her friend. But she’d be hurting herself more if she didn’t act on this. Come to think of it, I would be terrible in a real relationship, she mused.
Sorry, what? Claire asked as she paid.
No, nothing. Thinking out loud.
They exited the store and walked towards the subway. It wasn’t any colder than it was when they were running, but the sweat had frozen on Claire and Helena’s bodies and they were approaching frostbite territory.
So when do you leave? Claire asked.
Well, not sure. I guess I’ll have to look at leases. And a way to get a Visa. But my company has an office there. And my Dad is technically a citizen. It will come together.
Claire laughed. You know, for you Helena, it always does. And that’s one of my favorite things about you.
Helena smiled. She could tell her friend meant it versus coating the compliment in sarcasm, as she tended to do. Claire handed her the candle bag from the store they were just in. Here, she said. This is for you.
Did you just buy me a candle, from the store we were just in! Claire, why?
I’m not sure. I guess I want you to have it, in Dublin. So when you light it, you’ll always remember this conversation, and how I called you a good-for-nothing cheating whore who can’t keep it in her pants.
But you didn’t call me that!
Oh, I didn’t? Oops. Claire smiled wide and looked at her friend whose eyes were watering just the slightest. Hopefully it was just the wind. Come here, she said as she hugged her.
I know that you think I’m crazy. And that I’m leaving you forever. Well, I’m not. To both of those statements.
The jury’s still out. On both. But even if both are true, I love you anyways.
Thanks. I love you too.
They don’t make, “Dublin is my Boyfriend” tee shirts over there, do they?
God, I hope not.
Ok. Well if you see one, you need to get it. I’ll have a “New York is my Husband” waiting for you upon your impending move back.
Perfect. And maybe I’ll find a real boyfriend while I’m at it.
Maybe. But love is for losers.
Exactly. Why fall in love and go on dates when you have an entire city to seduce you night after night after night? An entire city to learn the curves of and the ins and outs of and the quirks of? An entire urban landscape with new faces that could be new friends or maybe they’re old friends and you don’t know it yet. A dive bar where you can kiss a stranger and never see them again and it feels like you just made out with everything the city stands for and has been and will be and then you never see them again because just as they are to you, you are a stranger. Living in a city is being a stranger and a friend and a lover and a tourist all at once. You let it all hang out and a part of you will be there, forever, whether you like it or not.
Claire laughed. She was tearing up now. Her friend, once again, waxing poetic about things that she could only hope to be brave enough to let herself feel.
Exactly, Helena. Exactly.
Author’s Note
I had a lot of fun getting to know Claire and Helena in this short story. I think we’ve all been them, each of them, at different parts of our lives. Curious, adventurous, excited; cautious, nervous, reserved. Different mindsets for different chapters we move through. These conversations were fueled by the deep friendships I’ve been lucky enough to encounter in this lifetime, especially the ones that challenge me and accept me simultaneously. Big hugs to all of my Helenas and Claires out there, keeping each other balanced.