You Look Different in Real Life

and slowed down.
    We’re headed to get takeout at some restaurant that’s reportedly the second coming of Chicken Kebabs. Felix volunteered to stay in the dorm with Rory. When we left, they were watching some reality show about a matchmaking service for millionaires, and Rory was saying, “If he’s so rich, you’d think he’d have that growth on his eyebrow removed.”
    “That’s not a growth, Rory,” I heard Felix say as we shut the door. “It’s a piercing.”
    It’s been a while now since Nate and I were alone, and it’s like those few moments of honest conversation at the café uptown have been rewound, and we have to start from the beginning again. It’s awkward and I don’t know what to say to him. I turn on the camera and shoot, but the Wow, look at the city shots are getting a little old.
    Finally, I ask a dumb question I already know the answer to. “Nothing from Keira?”
    Nate shakes his head. “Not yet. I’ll call in a little while.”
    We walk for a few long seconds in silence. We’re parallel to Union Square now, and Nate keeps looking at the crowds of people gathered there. A dance crew is performing in the center of a circle of spectators. He’s so focused on the scene that he doesn’t see a woman with a stroller coming toward him, and he stumbles right into one of the wheels.
    “Oh! Sorry!” says Nate. The woman gives him the hairy eyeball and keeps walking.
    “Is it really that fascinating?” I ask, indicating the park.
    “I sort of have this habit.” Nate steps up to the wall that separates us from the park. “Whenever I see a big group of people, I’m always looking. You know. For him. I can’t stop myself.”
    I’m very confused for a second, and then I get it. Him. Nate’s father. All I know is what I saw in Five at Six . Whenshe was still in high school, Nate’s mother had a boyfriend from another town. She got pregnant. He left the scene and moved away from the area. At age six, Nate had never met him. I’m guessing this is still the case.
    “Do you even know what he looks like?” I ask, and this comes out harsher than I mean it to. I’m asking for more of the story, but it sounds like I’m criticizing him.
    “No,” he says bitterly. “At least, not what he might look like now. My mother showed me some pictures once. Once. ” He watches for another few moments, then shakes his head as if it’s an Etch A Sketch and he wants to erase what he drew.
    “I’m sorry,” I say. It never occurred to me that Nate would be craving the sight of his father. He has those grandparents who clearly love him so much.
    I run my fingers over the camera and Nate must sense it, because he glances at it, then me, and slowly shakes his head no. His pleading eyes mean business. I drop the camera to my side.
    “When Keira’s mom left . . . that really got to me,” he continues, maybe feeling safe now. “But I couldn’t process it because of all the things that happened to me in that movie.” He says it like they only happened on film and not in real life.
    Suddenly it all makes sense. Their connection.
    “Did you talk to her, after?” I ask.
    He shakes his head. “No. She disappeared with herdad too fast. But when she came back to town, we ended up at a party together. This one girl was drinking and got really sick. Keira and I helped her and I don’t know, I guess we bonded over that. When you’re fourteen, helping someone find a place to puke in a backyard is a pretty intense experience.” He pauses and makes a silly, cringey face, trying to break the tension. It works. I laugh.
    Then he continues. “But she asked me about what it was like, living without a dad, knowing you had a parent who wanted nothing to do with you. Didn’t try to see you or talk to you or anything.”
    We’re quiet, looking at the crowd, and now I, too, find myself scanning for someone who might look like Nate, but in his thirties. I actually see two men who sort of fit the bill. This city is full of people who look like my daughter , Mrs. Jones had said. I can’t imagine the feeling that such a huge, lost part of you could reappear at any time. I know there’s more to be told here. What would Leslie ask without asking?
    “So now I think I understand,” I say slowly. “Why you wanted to be there for Keira. Are you wondering how it would be, if you ever go looking for your dad?
    “There’s that,” says Nate, “and also, well, she always seems to be one step away from losing it