Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist

The food rush has infiltrated my brain, made it hazy, unable to distinguish between flirting and saying too much. "I feel like I have kind of known you, through Tris. She and I aren't friends exactly, only we're not not-friends exactly, either. You made some amazing mixes for that bitch, wrote some great lyrics. I would see that stuff you gave her and always think, Hey, I wouldn't mind knowing this guy. Not like I wanted to go after Tris's boyfriend or anything, and I'm not a stalker, at least I don't think I am, but I guess-" Oh, fuck it, why not just be honest? He's not the one absolved- Iam. "-I guess I just thought you might be a cool person even before I'd met you, based on purely circumstantial evidence. So you don't think I randomly throw myself at just any guy."

There is a silence, and in that silence I hate all boys, for never knowing the right thing to say. "Why did you leave?" he asks. Why did YOU stop?

"National security emergency. Salvatore and I got beeped. Turned out to be a false alarm." Why do you think I left, beautiful moron?

And we're at a stalemate. We eat.

"Where are your friends?" I finally say after a couple pierogies. Just to say something. Again. I'm sure his boys will be rolling through any moment to retrieve him, probably steal my blintzes. Nick must have found me only so he could get his fucking phone back.

Nick says, "Dev left with Ted."

"Ted?"

"You know, Ted from Are You Randy?"

"There's no Ted from Are You Randy? There's Randy and a bunch of other guys, none named Ted."

"Then who's Randy?" Nick asks.

"The guy who was trying to get with Caroline!"

"Who's Caroline?"

"For fuck's sake, who's TED?"

"The guy Dev hooked up with!"

"That's HUNTER. From Hunter Does Hunter."

"Oh," Nick says. "I get it now." He draws a map on the paper placemat on the table. "Dev's with Ted, who's also Hunter, but he's not Randy, who wanted Caroline, who I guess is the girl in the back of the van with Thom and Scot?"

I place my hand over his fist. "YES!"

It's almost like I've shared another dance with Johnny Castle, and I must be sleeping because this is not real, Nick is not real, this is not happening. I hope I don't wake up too soon. I pinch his thigh to check, and he leans over to me, and we're both smiling in anticipation and our eyes are meeting and something I think very natural and sweet is about to happen here, except-

A Beast stands over our table. It points at me. "I need to talk to you. Come into my office." Tris whips around and heads toward the bathroom. I'm amazed that even with her thick black roots peeking through her platinum-blond hair, the eyeliner and lipstick on her face smudged from the night's adventures, her eyes bloodshot from fatigue, she still manages to look hot. It's so wrong.

I stand up from the table and wiggle my index finger at Nick. He'll never get it, but I borrow from Heathers as I leave him to follow Tris. "'A true friend's work is never done,'" I singsong.

"'Bulimia is so '87, Heather,'" he answers.

HOLY SHIT squared. I think I just had my first orgasm.

Tris is peeing when I walk in. She is not a person who cares about privacy. But I close the door behind me anyway and say, "What the fuck are you doing here?" She gives me this great castoff, like a gift fallen from the sky, and yet she seems determined that I should not open it or enjoy it.

"I lost my date and I knew I would find you here, borscht bitch. I need cab money home. I figure you owe me. Fifty bucks ought to cover a gypsy cab back to Jersey and a Starbucks run." She wipes, stands up, flushes. "So can I have it?" She shoves me aside to wash her hands at the sink.

"How do you figure I owe you?"

"You know, I'm giving you Nick."

"Are you really?" I ask. Because we should get this clear once and for all.

"I really am," she says, applying a fresh coat of lipstick. I believe her.

"I think I really like him," I say.

"He likes you, too. Just don't name your children after months or fruits. Promise me."

"What?" I say.

She faces me. "Are you going to give me the fifty bucks or not?"

"Don't you think Nick is worth more than that?"

"Bitch, I'm not trying to quantify the value of a human being. I just need to get home. And don't cry poor because I know you have a secret stash of emergency money tucked in some pocket." She leans over me and, honest to Allah, frisks me. "Jesus, you're stacked! Why do you hide it under these huge shirts all the time?"

I thought I used up my emergency money when I gave my secret stash to the cabdriver who got me here, but then I remember the fifty-dollar bill Thom gave me earlier to take Nick out on a date intended to free the boy of Tris's ghost. So much for that fund. Thom and Scot couldn't have anticipated that the wildebeest herself would profit from their contribution to Nick's night out.

I shove Tris away and reach inside the inner pocket of my flannel shirt. I hand Tris the fifty-spot. "Thank you!" she snaps. She turns to leave, but I pull her back.

"Tris?"

"What, bitch?"

"Am I really frigid?"