by Shae Scott
The streets had become my friend. It was my solace, to walk and get lost in the crowds, lost in my thoughts. It felt like if I could just walk far enough I might find the place where I could figure out my next step. Quinn never left my thoughts, whether she was there in memory or in regret. It really just depended on my level of self pity.
I had no one to blame but myself. Even Miles was tired of pretending otherwise. He'd finally laid into me one night when he'd found me in some tucked away honky tonk that I'd stumbled into. I'd texted him to join me in my misery and he'd found me there practically crying in my beer. It wasn’t entirely my fault. Have you heard country songs? Like have you really listened to them? The lyrics will rip a man's guts out. They did mine. I sat there listening to some guy on the jukebox sing about a girl being like a perfect storm, a mix of sun and hurricane and I felt pretty positive that he'd written the damn thing about Quinn. I gave him five bucks to play it again.
Fuck, I missed that girl.
Miles had huffed as he grabbed the chair back and sat across from me.
"Dude, you have got to get it together. Pathetic is not working for you," he had said. I growled in response and continued to think about Quinn and rain and memories of rain slicked skin on rooftops.
"You want her back, go get her back. The girl loves you, though seeing you here like this I can't imagine why she does," he said.
"She doesn't want me back. You didn't see her when she left. She was done. She gave up. I pushed her away. I practically shoved her out the door," I mumbled.
"You are such a chick. What happened to my brother? No holds barred, the go-after-what-you-want-asshole that always gets what he wants?"
"I don't deserve her," I said, the truth burning a path down my throat.
"Not like this you don't. All you deserve now is a shower and a clean shirt. Shit, have you even showered this week?"
"You're an asshole," I spit. When I wasn't moping I wanted to kick things. Miles had been on the other side of it more than once and I knew he was losing his patience with me.
He laughed, unfazed. I went back to drinking my beer.
"Seriously, I still don't get what happened." I stared at the table without answering him. I didn't either. Only that I was a coward. Didn't that say it all really?
That had been three days ago and I was still walking and wandering. As I rounded the corner to make my way back to my apartment the clouds that had threatened all day finally let loose a deluge of water. I looked up into the drops as they fell, letting them drench me straight to my core.
I'm sure I looked like a crazy person, standing there in the rain laughing at the sky, relishing in the fact that as the rain fell I could feel her all around me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that that indeed might actually make me a crazy person. But there was something about it, about the rain and the way it was ferociously wrapping around me that felt cleansing. It was almost as if the cobwebs were melting away and my head was starting to clear.
Miles was right. This wasn't me. I went after what I wanted. I didn't sit around in self pity about it. I had shit to figure out. There was one way I knew how to do that and it wasn't walking around the city like Forest Gump.
I shook the rain from my hair and hurried down the street towards home. When I made it upstairs I stripped off my wet shirt, kicked off my jeans, dumping them in the washing machine and grabbing a towel to scrub my wet hair. Then I walked straight into my office, hit the power button on my laptop and took a seat.
It was time to write.
THE CALL I'D been waiting for came three weeks later, when I was on my way home from yoga. I'd started it up again thinking it would help clear my head. Turns out it was good at getting rid of a lot of the head garbage. So much so that when the New York number flashed across my screen I didn't give it a second thought before answering it.
"This is Quinn," I answered cheerfully.
"Ms. Ryan, my name is Julie Barnett. I'm the human resources manager here at McLean and Matthews Publishing. Do you have a moment to talk?"
My heart began to pound in my chest. This was it. My future could hang on the next few minutes and whatever it was that Julie Barnett had to say.
"Of course, it's good to hear from you," I managed hoping that I sounded professional and not like a nervous twelve year old girl.
"I'm calling regarding the interview that you had with us awhile back. We have an editorial assistant job that I'd like to offer you if you are still interested in employment with us,"
My smile was instant, as were the butterflies that had just taken flight in my stomach.
"Oh, yes, I am still interested," I managed. I know I sounded eager, I didn't care. This was a big deal. The beginning of me making my big move and starting the path that would let me do what I'd always dreamed about.
"Oh wonderful, I will email you over the offer letter. Please take a look at it and contact me with any questions or your official acceptance," she said.
"I will. Thank you very much, Ms. Barnett." I was doing my best to hold it together, but as soon as I hit the end button on my phone I was squealing and doing a happy dance, right there in my car. This moment was full of promise and it had me on a high.
That high lasted just long enough for me to remember that that I was finally moving to New York and Keaton wouldn't be there to welcome me. I was still happy and excited, but part of my dream had been to finally be there with him, to be able to walk in the park or watch movies with him on a Tuesday. Now, he would just be a face among millions, a face I wouldn't see.
I shook off the melancholy that was threatening to take away my happy moment. There would be no thinking of the past today. There was no room for what ifs, only right nows. This dream was independent of Keaton Harris and I wouldn't let him take it away from me. This moment was about more than him.
MY FAMILY WAS both thrilled and sad to see me make my move. Dad grumbled about finding someone to go to the games with him. Mom cried because her baby was all grown up. Dad bought me mace and a stun gun "just in case." I loved my parents.
Lily was another story. Leaving her was like leaving behind part of myself. We had been inseparable since the 1st grade. She was my person, my light, my cheerleader. Not having her there every single day was going to be hard.
She wasn't going to let me question it though. There was no going back. When I told her that I'd gotten the job she'd immediately made me a playlist full of songs about New York. She said to listen to it until I found my anthem.
I listened to it as I finished packing up the giant suitcases that would carry everything I owned to New York. Mostly clothes, my laptop and a few photos. Everything else was going into storage. New York didn't come with space.
As Billy Joel faded out of Uptown Girl and Taylor Swift started in about finding yourself in the city, I took a glance around the room. The walls were bare, everything in boxes and packed away. Eventually someone else would share this space with Lily. Eventually, this room would belong to someone new. It was both a little sad and exciting at the same time. For someone who hated the unknown, I was surprised at how thrilling it felt. Sure I still wanted to throw up when I thought about the details, but the big picture was thrilling.
I wandered out to the living room to find Lily. She was sitting at the dining room table finishing up some work. I sat down on the couch and tucked my legs under me. "I'm hungry. Are you almost done? You want to order some take out?" I asked.
"Just finishing. I can't look at this anymore. You want pizza? Chinese?" she asked as she closed the lid of her computer, stood and stretched. This was our routine and I took a moment to soak it in. Burn the image in my mind so that I never forgot.
"Chinese," I offered.
Lily grabbed the menu from the fridge and made her way into the living room.
"I can't believe you are leaving. Seriously, how am I going to function without you around?" Lily whined as she flopped down onto the couch dramatically.
I laughed,
even though I felt exactly the same way. "You are so busy you'll hardly know I'm not here. Besides, I'm still going to talk to you every day," I said.
"I know. It's just not the same," she pouted. We'd had this conversation so many times over the last few weeks. She shared my excitement at the new job and had been relentless in her quest to get me clothes that were New York ready. I had been more concerned with finding a place I could afford and what I would be able to fit into my future tiny apartment.
I'd lucked out though; the HR manager that had hired me had given me the name of one of my future co-workers who was looking for a new roommate. We'd talked and she seemed nice and more importantly she didn't seem crazy. So I'd agreed. The idea of living with a stranger made my stomach twist with nerves. I'd only ever lived with Lily and she was family.
This was definitely going to be an adjustment. There was so much change. But it was a good distraction. New job, new people, new life. It helped keep my mind off the old parts that had left me broken. I tried to ignore the fact that I was moving to the same city where Keaton lived. I told myself it didn't matter because the chances of running into him in a city packed with millions of people was highly unlikely. And it's not like we ran in the same circles. Not anymore.
I would just pretend that he didn't exist. That was the plan I had settled on. Pretend none of it had happened, pretend he didn't exist at all. It worked, most of the time. At least on the surface.
"So, this Erin girl, you know she can't replace me, right?" Lily asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
I laughed. "Don't worry, Lil, I won't replace you," I assured her.
"Good. Shit, I'm going to miss you so much. I can't believe that you leave tomorrow. I'm not ready," she said, slipping back into her dramatics.
I sat down on the couch beside her, feeling the squeeze on my heart. Leaving her behind was going to be just as tough as leaving my parents. I tried to swallow back the tears that had been threatening me for a week.
"You know, I'm really proud of you," she said quietly.
I glanced over at her, the light catching the tear that threatened to fall. I had a feeling we were both about to lose the battle.
"You're being brave. I know it's hard for you to go somewhere new and start this new exciting life. I'm just so proud of you for taking the chance. I know you're going to do amazing things there," she said.
I smiled and leaned against her, taking comfort in this woman who had become a sister to me.
"I couldn't have done any of it without you," I admitted.
"Nah, that's where you are wrong, Quinny. You've always had this in you. You've always been meant for adventures like this. You've just been getting ready for them all these years."
"I love you," I said as the tears threatened to become sobs.
"Mean it," she replied, in the same way she had since we were kids. "Now, let's get you some egg rolls," she sniffed, throwing her arms around me and giving me a hug.
I was really going to miss her.
I WAS A MAN possessed. I didn't shower, I barely ate. I closed out the entire world and sat at my computer pouring over the words. I'd started this manuscript way back in San Francisco. I'd gone back to it over the months, mostly using it as a self indulgent story where Quinn played my heroine. I'd played with the idea of turning it into something, even posting random teasers here and there. But honestly I'd done that just so she would see them. It was like dedicating a song on the radio, only I did it through fiction and social media. It had been a private game between us.
But now--now it had taken on a life of its own. The story began to tell itself. I changed it up enough to protect her, but really, this was our story. Every detail, every emotion I'd felt being around her was there. I had never felt so connected to the words that I'd written. It was as if each one weaved itself into my soul, becoming a part of me, owning me. I wrote because there was no other choice. I wrote because my heart needed it. I had thought it was a purge, but in the end it had become an acceptance. My heart belonged to her. I'd just been too stubborn to admit it, too afraid to accept that she owned me. That I was indeed completely in love with her. The real kind. The forever kind.
I could have just called her. I could have shown up at her door and admitted it. But I was so tied to this project that I never did. I know that sounds crazy. But this project had become more about the journey for me. It wasn't just about us, or her . . . it was about me. It was my self discovery.
And for that reason I had to finish it. Even if I never did anything else with it, I had to finish it.
It didn't take that long. Like I said, I was a man possessed. And when I typed the final words and sat back I felt like I could finally breathe again. It wasn’t just that I’d found my voice or that I’d found a way to finally sort through all of the issues that had kept me so tangled up with regret, it was that by writing this book I had found my truth.
I WAS SCARED, making this big step and moving across the country was by far the biggest thing I’d ever done on my own. The city was so intimidating and I wasn't really sure if I was cut out for it. I was truly leaving my comfort zone. Part of me wished that Lily was coming with me. She kept talking about it, packing her stuff and following me. I liked the idea of us conquering New York together. But, she'd taken a job back home that she was excited about and really, I knew that I needed to do this on my own. This was my dream, my future, and I couldn't always rely on my security blanket, or on Lily, to push me forward when I wanted to hide. Not that she was going to let that happen, even if she was eleven hundred miles away.
The cab parked outside the building that I would now call home. It was a little run down and my apartment was on the 5th floor, but I was okay with it. At least I would be getting some exercise in each day. I paid the cab fare and grabbed my giant suitcases and prepared to haul them up. It was a little metaphoric really, like climbing a mountain to start a new life. I felt like I'd been climbing for months.
Ending things with Keaton had changed me. Hell, everything with Keaton had changed me. The good and the bad. I'd found a strength that I hadn't known that I had. I guess that's one good thing about falling to the bottom. When you reach that low where things are crumbling and you hurt like you've never hurt before, you have to find a way to climb out of it. You have to fight, scrape, and claw your way out of the despair until you can finally see the light again. That journey back to life is hard and you don't come back out the same person. I liked to think I'd come out of it a better person.
That's not to say I didn't still have my weak moments or that I didn't think about him. I did. I thought about him a lot. When I lay awake at night I always thought of us. I remembered every moment and it was easy to run it through my head like a movie. I would always wonder what had happened, I would always have questions, but I'd found a place where I could continue on without them weighing me down.
I pushed the buzzer at the front door and waited. People rushed past me on the sidewalk, never paying me any attention. It occurred to me that this was the perfect city to get lost in.
"Quinn, is that you?" I smiled at the bubbly voice on the other end.
"It's me," I confirmed.
"Hang on just a sec; I'll be right down to help you carry all of your stuff in." I heard the door buzz as it unlocked and I worked to pull my suitcases inside. A few minutes later a girl about my age came bounding down the stairs. I'd seen her in pictures so I knew it was Erin.
She was tall, slim, and even in the cut off shorts and over-sized sweatshirt she looked like she could have just walked off the pages of a magazine. I felt a twinge of uncertainty until she gave me a big genuine smile.
"Hi," she greeted me, giving me a hug like we'd known each other for years. I liked that. She was genuine. "Sorry, I'm a hugger. It's the Oklahoma in me. I can't help it. It never goes away," she laughed.
"It's okay," I laughed. "Thanks for helping me. I tried to pack light, but stuffing your entire life into a few suitcases is tougher than I thou
ght," I admitted.
"Trust me, I get it," she smiled. "Come on, let's get you settled."
The apartment was small, but it wasn't as bad as I had expected. I had pictured cracker box. This was more cozy and eclectic. The entry was narrow and led into a tiny square room with a couch, a chair and a TV attached to the wall. Erin had it decorated in grays and yellows and it felt warm and homey.
A tiny kitchen, about the size of my parent's pantry sat just off the living room. One person would have trouble in there. This must be why people in New York ate out all the time.
"My room is here," she said, her hand on the doorjamb. "And you are over here, next door," she said pointing to the door on the other side of the television. I moved to take a look and couldn't help but smile when I saw that my room was about the size of the kitchen. I didn't mind though. It was perfect. There was a double bed with soft linens and a tiny dresser crammed in beside it.
"The dresser makes a good desk," Erin smiled.
"Thank you for letting me stay here. I appreciate it. I love it," I smiled.
"Well, it takes some getting used to, but it works. Why don't you get settled and then we can go grab some food and get to know each other," she suggested.
"Yeah, okay," I agreed.
Erin left me to examine my tiny room and I was grateful to have the moment to take it all in. I was here, in New York. I'd jumped. I felt optimistic and excited about it. I grabbed one of my suitcases and hauled it up to my bed. Might as well unpack and settle in a little. Having my stuff out would help me feel more at home.
It didn't take long to empty my suitcases. And there wasn't much room to decorate, so once it was put away I sat down on the bed, my back against the wall as I looked around my new home. It's funny, it made me feel like I was truly starting a new life. So much of what I knew was so far away, my safety net was gone. The only person I knew in this city was Erin, and I had known her all of an hour. I ignored the small voice inside that reminded me that there was one other person in New York that I knew quite well, or had, once upon a different time.
