Chapter 2
Shannon
She grabbed her tea as soon as it was ready and flew down the stairs, back onto the busy street.Nope. Nope. Not doing this. Not today, Satan.Shannon almost bumped into a pair of tourists taking pictures in front of a statue of a cow. They yelled at her to watch where she was going, but Shannon was in such a rush to get home that she didn’t care if they thought she was the biggest bitch in the world
Gotta get home. Gotta throw up.
That had not been… what was her name?Stop playing coy, fuckhead. You know who that was.Jessica. Jess. The girl who almost singlehandedly destroyed Shannon’s life eight years ago. The woman Shannon had done her best to forget.
College. People did stupid shit in college. Girls fooled around. Co-ed shenanigans. Experimentation. A needy, long-ago night right before graduation. The world was a lot simpler back then, but it also felt like a noose around the tender neck. Who knew what would happen once the tassel was turned? Who knew what Shannon would be doing in ten years?
She stepped though her apartment door and immediately pulled the scarf off her neck.Speaking of nooses!
The apartment was sparse. Although Shannon hadn’t lived in it for more than a few months, it had never been emptier. Probably because Andrew had made off with half the furniture, clothing, and dishes when he moved out the month before.
Shannon banged her head against the bedroom doorway. Her tea was still hot in her hand. Her jacket strangled her skin, making it sweat and boil against her body. A flood of memories she had never asked for hit her at once.
She had never thought about Jess and Andrew at the same time, and she had dated that man for over three years. Four, total, if she counted their stint in college.
“What are the odds?” she asked Decks, her Himalayan floofing in the reading nook overlooking Glisan Street. “Shewas there.” Shannon put her drink down on the nightstand and flung herself onto the bed. No. This wasn’t happening. The past hadn’t come back to bite her in the ass. Not right after Andrew left her.
A box of his abandoned belongings still littered the corner of the small bedroom. Decks loved it so much that Shannon never had the heart to throw it out or donate the contents.An excuse.Decks wasn’t in it now. What better way to channel Shannon’s energy than to get rid of it now?
Old photographs. Newspaper clippings about Shannon’s career as a freelance photographer, because fuck her now, that’s why. Broken cat toys. Broken toaster. Discarded textbooks and old manuals about his software engineering job downtown. Ties. Cufflinks.
The watch Shannon had bought him for their final anniversary.I bought it with my first real earnings from my photography business.She had been so proud to afford a nice gift for her boyfriend. The man she saw herself marrying, if he would ever have her.
Apparently not.
She grabbed the box and marched through the one-bedroom apartment with renewed fervor. Behind the building was a dumpster, and it had Andrew’s name on it.
“Getout!” The box landed with a crash in the bottom of the empty dumpster. “Get out. Stay out. I fucking hate you.”
She didn’t know if that was more directed at her ex-boyfriend, or the woman she happened to bump into half an hour ago. Either way, she turned around to find one of her neighbors approaching with a garbage bag. The young man laughed to see how red-faced she was. Shannon promptly pushed passed him and went back up to her apartment.
“Fuck you,” she muttered once more, and she wasn’t sure who she had mind. Decks hopped down from the reading nook and brushed against her legs. Shannon remained in the entryway of her apartment, reeling from how quickly everything had changed.
Again.
She needed to lie down. She needed to regather her bearings and convince herself that bumping into Jess Mills had been nothing but a weird dream. The kind that often haunted her when she was her most insecure.
***
Memory #2
I was busy. An overachiever. Since high school student council, I didn’t know how to fucking chill and enjoy my youth. There was always something to organize. Someone in need. A house on fire and a libido in need of sating
Sophomore year, I was the head of my dorm’s council. I didn’t have the charisma to take over my university’s student council, but I could dominate my dorm. I could spruce up my résumé with proof that I loved to get involved and help others. One day, my mother always said with too much pride, I’d be a member of the UN.
Back then, running the student activities in a dorm and hanging out with the RAs was enough.
I don’t remember the first time I saw her. I don’t remember the first time she stopped and stared at me on her way to class. Is that what she says? That she was so smitten with me at first glance that her life changed forever?
Fuck. I didn’t know that.
It was December. Finals sucked the souls out of everyone, and it was customary to throw what we called a Steam Party the Friday before the first scheduled final. Let off Steam, they said, in a friendly and safe environment. I spearheaded the organizing alongside my favorite RA. She got the games while I personally went to Safeway and used the dorm funds to buy enough cookies and soda to give us all sugar comas.
As the dorm president, it was my responsibility to go room to room and invite the residents to the party. While the RA hooked up the games and my friend and roommate Kelsey unpacked the cookies, I took my print-outs and started knocking on doors. I was already craving a cigarette, but had promised to not indulge until right before the party. I’d smoke enough during finals.
