I opened the door that coinjoined our hotel rooms. We were on a high school trip to the Big Apple – New York itself – to help forward our dreams. We were all students at a prestigious performing arts school upstate, and our annual senior trip was for both work and pleasure. We all went to shows. Some of us went on auditions, worked with special tutors, or dropped off tapes to be considered for interview for positions in dance schools. The trip was nearly over as this was our last full day in New York. Tomorrow we’d get back on the train to go up north. 

I was however concerned that my roommate Mitch didn’t come home last night. I was up early as usual, and I was perplexed to find the bed empty. “Dillon?” I whispered. “Dillon are you awake?”
“Mmm?” He pushed off the comforter. “Yeah sort of,” he said, his voice thick with sleep. “What’s up? Morning run?”
I emerged from the doorway and walked to his side of the bed. “Not right now. It’s Mitch, he didn’t come back las…” and that’s when I noticed Mitch staring up at me, one eye barely open, looking a bit shy. “t…night. Oh uh. That um. Explains it then.” Mitch groaned and buried his face into the pillow. Dillon pulled his arm around the boy’s shoulders possessively. “Don’t worry. I’m looking out for him.”

I smiled. That was the right thing to say. Mitch was very talented, but a naiive lad from a small town. New York’s dance world could easily devour him alive.
“I’ll let you two get back to sleep,” I said, my voice a loud whisper. 
“Yeah,” Dillon said. He looked very satisfied.
I smiled and flashed him two thumbs up. He winked at me.
I glanced at the other empty twin bed. “Where’s Sarah?”
“With that hot violin player she won’t shut up about.”
“Oh. Chang. Got it. Ok.” I suddenly felt giddy. It was so wonderful to see my friends find time for themselves in a hectic, busy world of young performers. So often the teenage years get skipped or missed. Seeing everyone experience young love just made me so happy that I was part of this family. I gave Dillon another thumbs up. “See you at breakfast?”
He lifted the corner of one side of his mouth then pulled the comforter over him and Mitch. 

I was about to shut the door when I had a thought. I tip toed to the window and drew the blinds, then I left without a sound.

When I woke up, there was a delicious smelling bag from Corey’s Pastries on my nightstand. On it was a note: “Thanks for being a great friend, Dillon.” 

I sighed dreamily. New York really was where dreams came true.

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Text is fictional.