Second Chances (15 page)

“It’s okay.  Answer it,” Allison allowed.

Reagan hit the answer button.  “Hey, Chris.  What’s up?” she chirped.  She took a few steps away from Allison to take the call.

Allison frowned watching Reagan chat amicab
ly to the disembodied voice.  Reagan’s eyes crinkled at the corners and she laughed at something the caller said.  She found herself stepping closer as if to overhear the topic of their conversation.

“Tonight?  Yeah, I could probably do that.”  Reagan flicked her ey
es in the direction of Allison who appeared to be creeping closer.  “I have a friend visiting from out of town, but she’s heading home soon.”

Allison quirked an eyebrow.  Apparently her presence was no longer needed.

Reagan’s forehead scrunched when she felt a hand at her hip.  She looked down to Allison’s hand and then up to her face.  Allison’s eyes had taken on that unmistakable intensity.  Reagan wondered if she even realized when she did that or if it was something she could queue on command. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll have to get back to you about tonight, Chris,” she said. “Something might have come up.”  Without waiting for a response, she hung up.  “What is it?” she asked.  Her chest seized watching Allison flick her tongue
to the cleft in her lower lip. “Is-is something wrong?”

Allison’s response was low. “Yes,” she rasped. “Everything.” 
The hand at Reagan’s hip tightened.  Allison brought the other hand to the side of Reagan’s face. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said, her dark hazel eyes boring into Reagan.

Reagan closed her eyes when the thumb at her cheekbone stroked down the length of her face.  She breathed in
shuddered breaths through her nose.  “Is this because of Christopher?” she asked without opening her eyes.  Fingertips traced the outline of her mouth.

Allison swallowed and clenched and unclenched the back hinge of her jaw.  “Who?” she asked thickly.

Reagan opened her eyes and was greeted once again by that intense hazel stare. “Chris,” she repeated. “That boy I met on the train to Rhode Island.”  She no longer felt Allison’s fingertips on her face.  She frowned, knowing she had ruined the moment.  But she also knew they couldn’t keep this up without some kind of confrontation occurring.

“Oh. Him.” Allison pressed her lips together.

“Yes.
Him.”
Reagan bit back a laugh. “So you’re not denying that his call upset you?”

Allison’s fair eyebrows scrunched together. “He interrupted our…uh.” She struggled to find an appropriate word. “...
day
together.”

“What is this, Allie?  I dance with some guy at the party last night and you get angry with me, I talk to Chris,” she said, waving her phone, “and you start acting weird.  Are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” Allison echoed the word as if she didn’t know its meaning.  “Of what?”

Reagan licked her lips.  “I don’t know.  You tell me.  Am I misinterpreting this?  Am I reading too much into your mood swings?”

“I know I behaved poorly last night,” Allison said, dropping her gaze.

“You did,” Reagan acknowledged.  “But when you saw me dancing with that guy, what did you
feel
?”

Allison blinked a few times and looked startled by the question.  “I don’t...I’m not...” she sputtered.

Reagan surprised even herself by seizing Allison’s waist.  “How about
this
?” she husked, tightening her grip.  “What do you feel when I do this?”

“Reagan.”  The growled name sounded like a warning. Allison hooked her fingers through the front belt-loop of Reagan’s jeans and pulled her
even closer.  Reagan gasped into Allison’s open mouth when the material of her pants rubbed against her sex.  Allison slowly traced the length of Reagan’s full, lower lip with the tip of her tongue, pulling a quiet groan from her.

Reagan pulled away, panting. “You can’t just do that…you don’t get to…”

“Why not?”

Reaga
n cocked her head to one side and appraised Allison.  She once again looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable.  Seeing her frazzled was strangely reassuring, and Reagan felt bold enough to venture onto a potentially dangerous topic. “If you want to date me, why don’t you just ask?”

Even though Reagan’s tone was mild and unassuming, the question itself fel
t like a scathing accusation.  “Because I’m not gay,” Allison balked.  “Are you?”

“I’ve nev
er given much though to it,” Reagan pragmatically admitted. “It’s not like I seriously dated anyone in high school, and I hardly have in college.  I suppose I’m open-minded though.  I’ve always thought I’d fall in love with a
person
, not a gender.”

“Well, whatever,” Allison said so hastily it wasn’t clear if she’d even listened to Reagan’s respo
nse. “Even if I felt that way
, which I don’t
,” she was quick to add, “I totally abandoned you in high school.  Just thinking about it makes me sick. You couldn’t possibly ever forgive me.”

Reagan looked mildly amused. “So you think I just go around kissing every pretty girl I hate?”

Allison tried to ignore the hammering in her heart caused by Reagan calling her “pretty.”  She received compliments about her appearance all the time, but something about hearing it from Reagan made her pulse race.

“I don’t know,” she scowled.  She put on a sour front to keep herself from feeling anything else. “Maybe you get some sort of perverse pleasure out of it.  I can’t pretend to know what goes on inside that strange brain of yours.”

Reagan snorted and shook her head.  Allison was clearly in a mood, and there was no talking to her about anything of substance when she got this way. “What do you want to do before you have to leave?”

The anger drained from Allison’s features and the scowl on her face smoothed out. “Would it be okay if we stay
in the park?” she asked in a far more measured tone than before. “It’s so nice out,” she observed, “I’m kind of having fun just hanging out in the sun with you.”

Reagan smiled warmly. “Me too.  I just didn’t want you to get bored.”

“You don’t have to entertain me constantly,” Allison chastised. “I’m not your family visiting from out of town or something.”

“Then what
are
you?”

“I’m your friend,” Allison immediately replied.  “Aren’t I?”

Reagan’s lips pressed together. “Right. Friends.”

+++++

Reagan threw herself on her bed. 

“What’s wrong with you, Drama Queen?” Ashley said, not looking up from her laptop screen.

“We kissed again,” Reagan mumbled into her pillow.  She sat up and rubbed at her face, annoyed by the day’s activities.  Allison had recently left on an evening train back to Providence. They’d hugged at the train station, but hadn’t re-enacted their Central Park antics.  It was all starting to get very confusing.

Ashley closed her laptop. “This is getting to be quite a habit with you two.”

Reagan hadn’t originally told her roommate about their first kiss at the train station since she had passed it off as a one-time fluke.  She’d eventually and hesitatingly told her later though. It wasn’t that she wanted Ashley to know her business – she was nosy enough on her own – but Reagan had been so confused, she needed to decompress and verbally work out her and Allison’s situation.

“It’s not normal, you know that, right?”

“
What’s
not normal?” Reagan snapped off. “Are you implying that two girls showing affection for each other isn’t
normal
?” she spat out with emotion. “Do you think there’s something
wrong
with being gay?”

“W
hoa.” Ashley held up her hands. “Simmer down, Prez,” she said in what she hoped was a calming tone. The look on her roommate’s face was one she hadn’t seen before – rage.  “I wasn’t saying anything about that.  I’ve got nothing against gay people,” she noted.  “I was just saying that it’s not
normal
that two girls who insist they’re ‘just friends’ keep making out.”

“Oh.”
The anger on Reagan’s face immediately slipped away. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to snap at you.  I thought you were being an asshole.”

“It’s okay, Prez.  I
am
an asshole,” Ashley said matter-of-factly.  “I just wasn’t being an asshole
this
time.”  She cocked her head.  “That’s quite the temper, by the way. I think Allison’s starting to rub off on you. I was almost afraid of you.”

Reagan threw a pillow in her roommate’s direction. “I hate you.”

“Don’t lie.” Ashley caught the pillow in mid-air. “You’re going to miss me all summer.  Whatever will you do without me?”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Reagan noted before sticking out her tongue. “Can you
believe we’re finishing up our Junior year?” she remarked wistfully.  “It feels like yesterday we were both fresh-faced First Years moving to the big city.”

“And now look at you,” Ashley remarked. “You’re a raging homo.”

“You know I hate labels
,”
Reagan scowled.

“
You’re so gay for that girl, Prez,” Ashley countered with a playful smirk.  “I don’t know why you don’t just ask her out.”

“Because Allison Hoge is the most infuriating person I’ve ever met,” Reagan announced with conviction.
“I could never go out with her.”

“And yet your mouth
keeps accidentally bumping into hers,” Ashley said pragmatically.

Reagan made a frustrated noise. “I don’
t know what our deal is.”  She absently punched the top of her mattress.  “And whenever I try to bring it up, she completely closes off.”

“Well, you’ll have all summer to figure it out, right?”

Reagan shook her head. “She’s staying in Rhode Island,” she pouted.  A sudden look of panic passed over her features. “What if I come back to school in the Fall, and she’s forgotten all about me?”

“It’s not the end of the world, Prez. You can still talk
to her on the phone, write emails, write letters, talk on Skype,” Ashley ticked off on her fingers, “or send carrier pigeons.”

“I know, I know,” Reagan huffed.
“But it’s not the same as really spending time together.”

Allison wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I guess you’ll just have to sext her and give her something she’ll
really
remember.”

Reagan lamented having thrown
her pillow at her roommate; she was out of ammunition. “Remind me never to ask you for relationship advice,” she deadpanned.

+++++

PART 2: SENIOR YEAR

CHAPTER
NINE

The Amtrak train had barely rolled to a complete stop before Reagan was flying down the stairs and onto the wooden platform.  She hurled herself towards the familiar blonde standing by herself, arms open and laughing.

She and Allison had kept in contact over summer break, texting, calling, and the occasional Skype session, but both had been busy, Allison with a job at a local bookstore and Reagan with an unpaid internship at an art gallery in their hometown.  It had been a casual connection, but now, seeing Allison again, a flood of emotions that had remained dormant for months bubbled to the surface.

Allison laughed at
Reagan’s enthusiasm.  Her hazel-green eyes shone brightly in the early afternoon sunshine.

“I missed you so much,” Reagan mumbled into Allison’s neck.

Allison didn’t respond, but she squeezed Reagan tighter.

Reaga
n pulled back and inspected Allison’s face.  Her grin got bigger. “You cut your hair,” she said breathlessly.

Allison tugged at the shaggy ends.
She’d finally prioritized getting a serious haircut.  She’d found a stylist in Providence who’d chopped off at least four inches.  She was still getting used to the shorter length having always had enough hair to at least put it up in a ponytail.  “I thought it was time for a change.” Her eyebrows pinched together and she looked concerned.  “Do you not like it?” she worried out loud.

“I
love
it,” Reagan gushed.  She took another step backwards so she could fully appraise her.  “You look sexier than ever, if that’s even possible.”

Allison’s eyes shifted uneasily in her skull and she cleared her throat.  “Uh, thanks. Let me help you with your bag.”

Reagan sighed and watched Allison stiffly stalk away with her suitcase rolling behind her. “Here we go again.”             

+++++

Reagan tapped her fingers against the countertop of the Providence coffee shop and hummed a wordless tune as she waited for the barista to finish making their drinks.  She glanced once in the direction of Allison who sat nearby at a table for two.  Reagan smiled at her and reveled in the smile that Allison gave back. Even though they hadn’t seen each other all summer, it felt as though no time had passed. 

“Vegan hot chocolate and a dark roast with skim milk.” The man behind the counter set the drinks down and nudged them towards Reagan.

“Thank you,” Reagan said, putting her extra change in the tip jar.  She grabbed the drinks and turned. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she sputtered as she nearly ran into two girls about her age.  She’d been daydreaming and hadn’t realized anyone was standing right behind her.

“Watch where you’re going,” one of the girls snapped. “This jacket’s worth more than your entire wardrobe.”

“God, this coffee shop is such a dump,” the girl standing beside her snorted. “They’ll let
anyone
in.”

“We should stick to campus,” the first girl noted, already dismissing Reagan’s presence. “Townies make me uncomfortable.”

Reagan rolled her eyes, but a tiny seed of discomfort and insecurity still remained. Being dismissed felt like high school all over again.  Her muscles twitched, getting ready to take flight and escape the situation, but she took a deep breath, clamped her hands tighter around the two beverages, and walked over to the table where Allison sat.

“I
hope this table by the window is okay,” Allison said when Reagan set the drinks down. “I know you love to people watch.”

Reagan nodded stiffly.

Allison’s nose scrunched up.  She recognized that look on Reagan’s face.  She’d seen it enough in high school when she’d been harassing her; Reagan’s discomfort was palpable.  “Hey,” she soothed.  “What’s wrong?”

Reagan took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders.  She could handle this.  She wasn’t going to let an anxiety attack ruin their day.  “
I’m okay,” she breathed.  “Some assholes in line said something to me.”

“What did they say?”

Reagan shook her head. “It’s not important.”

Allison frowned
. “Yes it is.  Who said something to you, Reagan?”

Reagan nodded in the direction of a particularly boisterous group that sat at a collection of tables near the front entrance.  The mixed crowd all wore at least one item of clothing that labeled them as Brown students.  They appeared oblivious to the silent death stares the coffee shop’s other patrons shot in their direction.

Reagan watched as Allison stood up; her body tensed and her hazel eyes locked on the group.  Reagan knew in an instant what was going to happen – Allison Hoge was going to bitch-slap someone.

When Allison took her first step towards the gr
oup, she only paused when a hand grabbed her wrist.

“What are you going to do?” Reagan
worried.

“That group over there isn’t just anybody,” Allison said heatedly.  “The ring leader is
Brice, my bitch of a roommate.”

Reagan’s eyes widened.  “Don’t, Allie,” she pled. “Just let it go.  I don’t want to make your roommate situation uncomfortable.”

“I’m not going to do anything uncalled for,” Allison said with forced calmness. “I’m just standing up for my friend.”

Reagan dropped her hold on Allison’s wrist, dumbstruck.  “You just said the f-word.”

Allison made a pained look.  “And that right there is why I need to do this.”  Not waiting for Reagan’s reply, she strode toward the overly loud group.

Their chattering mildly subsided when she approached.  A few of the boys present gave her appreciative smiles.  Allison deflected them all with an icy glare.

“Allie!” A slender redhead hopped up from her seat when she saw Allison.

Reagan watched the events unfold from across the coffee shop.  The redhead looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place her face.  She suddenly recognized her as one of the girls Allison had been with the night they’d run into each other on Broadway
so many months ago.  Brice.  She finally had a face to go with the name.

She inched a little closer, hoping to catch a scrap of their conversation. She felt guilty for not trying harder to stop Allison, but not guilty enough.
She’d never been in this position before, getting a front row view of Allison on the attack.  It was terrifying – like watching a snake slowly wrap around a small mammal to squeeze the life from it just before finishing it off with a deadly strike.  Reagan shook her head.  She really needed to stop watching National Geographic late at night.

Reagan strained her ears, but without being obvious, she couldn’t hear what Allison was saying to Brice and the rest of the group.  But the redhead looked properly wounded and the formerly noisy group was now standing up and sulking out the front door.

When Allison returned, looking calm and restrained, Reagan threw her arms around her and hugged her tight in thanks.  Allison stiffened at first at the contact. Public affection always made her uncomfortable, regardless of its source.  But she reasoned that she’d earned this hug for finally doing the right thing.  And Reagan smelled like warm honey.  The observation made Allison pull back awkwardly.  “You’re welcome.”

Reagan held her hand and swung it back and forth.  “It still wasn’t necessary, but thank you.”  The excitement and pride fell from her face suddenly.  “Oh no!” she exclaimed, sounding horrified. “Where are we going to sleep tonight?”

“Huh? At my house; where else?”

“W
on’t that be awkward with Brice being there?”

Allison waved a dismissive hand.  “She’s hardly around on the weekends; I’m sure she’ll be bunking with her Flavor-Of-The-Week.  Besides, if she starts anything again, I’ll just put her in her place with my super bitch powers.”

Reagan tugged on her lower lip with her teeth.  “I knew I shouldn’t have let you tell her off.  Now it’s going to be horribly uncomfortable all weekend.  Oh God,” she moaned dramatically.  She clutched at her stomach. “I might give myself an ulcer.  I can already feel the acid eating away at the tender stomach lining.”

Allison’s eyebrows lifted to her hairline.  “Are you being serious right now?”

Reagan nodded glumly.  “I hate confrontations,” she whimpered. “They make me physically ill.”

Allison whistled lowly. “Wow, Murphy.  You’ve got issues.”

Reagan turned her bright blue eyes to her friend. “This is serious, Allison.  Please,” she pled.  “Can we figure something else out for tonight?  Even if we were locked in your bedroom the whole time, I’d still be on edge.”

The thought of being locked in her bedroom with Reagan for the entire day and night made Allison’s stomach feel funny.  Maybe she was getting an ulcer, too.  “I suppose we could always stay at a hotel.” 

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.  As soon as she realized what she’d suggested, her stomach felt uncomfortable all over again.

Reagan’s eyes immediately widened in excitement.  “Could we really do that?”

Allison pretended to look interested in her cuticles.  “Yeah, I guess.  There’s some reasonably priced places near campus.”

“We could order room service and lounge around in bed all day and be lazy together!”
  Reagan clapped excitedly.  “Oh, this is going to be amazing!”

Allison smiled, but it felt more like a grimace. “Yeah…amazing.”

+++++

“We need a room,” Reagan loudly announced.

Allison anxiously looked around.  Realizing what she was doing, she silently berated herself.  No one who knew her would be in the hotel lobby.  Besides, there was nothing suspect about two girls checking into a hotel room in the middle of the afternoon, she reasoned to herself.

The front desk receptionist flashed a warm smile. 
The name engraved on her nametag read Darcy.  “Name on the reservation?”

The eager smile fell from Reagan’s lips.  “Oh, we don’t ha
ve one.  This was kind of last minute.”

“I’m afraid we’re totally booked this weekend,” the hotel employee apologized.  “There’s an academic conference being held at Brown this weekend.  Let me just see if we’ve had any cancelations, however.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard and she inspected the computer monitor in front of her.  “Oh, you’re in luck.  We’ve got one king suite available.”

Reagan looked anxious.  “Suite? That sounds pricey.”

“We’ll find something else,” Allison spoke up, talking for the first time since they’d arrived.

“It’s a pretty big conference,” Darcy warned. “This may be your only option in town.”

Reagan gave
Allison a sad look.  “I guess we don’t have to stay at a hotel tonight.”

Seeing how crestfallen this revelation
had made Reagan, Allison immediately fished out the credit card her father paid for.  She didn’t know how she was going to explain the charge on her monthly statement, but she’d figure something out.  “We’re paying with a VISA card,” she said crisply to the hotel staffer.

Reagan’s blue eyes were round.  “Allison,” she whispered as the woman behind the front desk started typing up their room request, “I can’t let you pay for that.”

Allison drummed her fingers on the granite counter and waited for the woman to run her card.  “I’m not paying for it,” she said, not looking at Reagan.  “My dad is.”

Allison heard the quiet gasp.  “Are you sure he’ll be okay with that?”

Allison finally turned her head to face Reagan.  “It’s totally fine,” she insisted with a bright smile. “He pays for stuff like this for me all the time,” she lied.

Reagan still looked unconvinced.  But Allison was so confident and so unwilling to bend; she had little choice but to believe her.
Reagan shouldered Allison’s backpack.  After the coffee shop confrontation, they’d briefly stopped at Allison’s house so she could grab things for an overnight bag. “A little more hustle, Hoge,” she playfully ordered.  She punched the elevator button and spun to grin broadly at her friend who lagged a few steps behind.  “This is going to be the best night ever!” she cheered.