Second Chances (2 page)

Ashley’s face drooped.  “Oh.  Well.  You’re still pretty great.”

Reagan laughed and threw a balled up piece of paper at her friend.  “Remind me why I
volunteered
to be your roommate?”

Ashley easily deflected the tossed projectile.  Reagan was a lot of things, but naturally athletic wasn’t on that list. “Oh, don’t kid yourself, Prez. You know I’m fabulous.”

Reagan rolled her eyes at the nickname. As soon as the two had met their freshman year, Ashley had insisted calling her ‘President,’ and now shortened the nickname even more so.  The name always drew odd looks from people who didn’t know them.  “Uh huh,” Reagan said drolly. “I’ll keep reminding myself that tomorrow morning when I’m sitting across the table from my arch-nemesis.”

“So does that mean you’re going?” Ashley clapped excitedly. She bounced on the bed a little.

“Maybe I should send you along instead,” Reagan snorted. “You seem more excited than me.”

Ashley hopped off her bed. “You should be excited, too,” she exclaimed. “How many times does the universe give us second chances and do-overs?”

“You think that’s what this is?”

Ashley stood in front of Reagan’s open closet and tapped her fingers against her lips in thought. “Maybe,” she murmured. “But at the very least it’s your opportunity to outshine her.”

Reagan stood up to stand next to her roommate. “What are you looking at?”

Ashley reached into the closet and pulled out a top. She held it in front of Reagan’s torso.  “Your clothes.  What’s this girl’s name?”

Reagan eyeballed her roommate suspiciously.

Ashley let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, Prez. I’m not going to Facebook stalk her.”

“Allison,” Reagan finally answered. “Allison Hoge.”

Ashley reached back into the closet and pulled out a few more tops.  “Well, then,” she declared dramatically, “let’s find you the perfect outfit.  Watch out, Allison Hoge, because here comes Reagan Murphy.”

+++++

CHAPTER TWO

Reagan checked the time on her cell phone and released a shaky breath.  10:59am.  One minute until the time Allison had instructed they meet up at the New York diner.  She’d actually arrived half an hour early – she had a habit of being early for everything – but hadn’t actually gone inside the restaurant.  She didn’t want to appear too eager to meet up again with her high school foil, so she’d hovered outside until she arrived.
The only problem with her plan, however, was that she
hadn’t
seen Allison arrive yet.  And her fear that the invite had been just the latest joke in the long line of cruel pranks that was their relationship had reared its paranoid head.

Despite her gut feeling that Allison had no intention of showing up, Reagan entered the mom and pop diner promptly at 11am.  She briefly glanced around the small restaurant, looking for a familiar shade of blonde hair.  She stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to garner a better view, but amongst the sea of faces, she couldn’t find the specific one she sought.

“Can I help you?” a curly haired hostess chirped pleasantly.

“Hi, yes,” Reagan greeted. “I’m meeting up with a…”
She faltered on the word
friend.
  “I’m meeting up with someone,” she settled for, “but I don’t think she’s here yet.  I’ll just wait here, if that’s okay."

“I’d suggest getting a table and waiting there,” the hostess proposed. “Things are slow right now, but it’ll pick up soon for the lunch crowd.”

Reagan visibly winced.  She hadn’t wanted to commit to a table in the likelihood that Allison failed to show up.  But luckily she’d had the foresight to bring along some homework.  If and when Allison didn’t show, at least she wouldn’t be stuck at a table by herself with nothing to do.

After some hesitation, Reagan nodded.  “Table for two.”

The hostess grabbed two laminated menus and guided her to the center of the diner and stopped in front of a vacant table for two.  “Coffee?” she asked.

Reagan nodded and slipped out of her puffy-down jacket.  “Yes, thank you.  And a water too, please.”

The hostess left her side, and Reagan carefully draped her jacket over the back of her chair.  She deliberated between the two chairs and finally settled on the seat that afforded her a clear view of the front entrance.  She could see when and if Allison ever decided to show up.  And as a bonus, her high school tormentor wouldn’t be able to sneak up on her.

She
took a moment to scan over the breakfast menu.  She’d planned on looking at it online that morning to mentally prepare for the lack of vegan options.  But she’d run out of time when she’d spent an agonizing amount of time coordination an outfit that would show off her New York fashionability, but also not look like she was trying too hard.  In the end, she’d paired a scoop neck top with a pair of dark skinny jeans that tucked into faux leather boots.

A light breeze caressed
her face when the front door swung open.  She glanced up from the menu and frowned.  Unless Allison had had a sex change and had grown a foot taller, she wasn’t the person who’d just walked into the busy restaurant.

Reagan closed her eyes and sighed.  Her entire body felt tense as though waiting for a snowball to smack her in the face.  She opened her eyes when she heard the telltale clink of porcelain.  A waitress stood near her elbow and poured her a cup of steaming, black coffee.

“You ready to order?” the woman asked around a wad of pink bubble gum. 

Reagan tried not to wrinkle her nose. She’d always thought chewing gum was a nasty habit; it only made a person look like a cow chewing cud. “I-I’m waiting on someone,” she stated.

The waitresses nodded curtly and walked away without another word.

Reagan set her menu flat on the table and rubbed at her temples. As much as she’d wanted to believe that things were different, nearly three years removed from high school, Allison still hadn’t shown up.

As soon as those negative thoughts passed through her brain, the front door opened again. The sun was bright that day and everyone near the front of the diner was backlit, making it hard to see distinct faces.  Reagan squinted her eyes and stared hard at the entrance.  If she’d been drinking her coffee, she no doubt would have spit it all over when her gaze finally settled on an all-too familiar blonde.

She watched as Allison shook her head to dislodge a few snowflakes that clung to her corn-silk tresses.  It had begun to lightly snow while Reagan waited inside.   Allison patted at her clothes and smiled graciously at the hostess who continued to hover at the front of the restaurant.  Reagan had the strangest urge to duck beneath her table when she realized Allison’s hazel eyes had begun scanning the intimately small diner.

When that penetrating gaze finally rested on her, Reagan thought she observed the slightest flicker of surprise pass over Allison’s delicate features.  But as quickly as the unexpected emotion appeared, it was replaced with a cool, polite smile as the diner hostess led her back to the table for two.

Reagan allowed herself a bold moment to regard the girl from her past
as she walked toward her table.  Although she’d seen Allison the previous night, she’d been too frazzled to actually
look
at her.  Her porcelain skin was as flawless as ever and the crisp winter weather had pulled an attractive blush to her chiseled cheekbones. Her blonde hair wetly shimmered from the combination of light snow and sunrays streaming in through the front plate glass windows. She stopped in front of the table and pulled off the Burberry-print scarf wrapped around her neck and slid out of her fitted wool trench coat. She looked every bit as polished as Reagan remembered. 

“I didn’t t
hink you’d actually show up,” Allison said softly, speaking for the first time.  She draped her winter jacket on the back of the free chair.

Reagan stiffened. “Well, if you didn’t want me to come, you shouldn’t have invited me.  I would have been just fine not seeing you again.”

“For Gods sake, Murphy. Calm down.” Allison straightened her shoulders and readjusted the fit of her three-quarter-length cardigan. 

“No, Allison.  I will not
calm down.
” Reagan rose from her seat as she felt years of pent-up anger and frustrations begin to boil over.
“You can’t just come barging into
my
city and start bossing me around like we’re back in high school.”

“Reagan, please sit down.” Allison nervously looked around the diner to see if anyone was watching them. 
Reagan was being overly dramatic, but it didn’t appear to faze the locals.  They were probably used to these kinds of outbursts, but that didn’t mean Allison wasn’t rattled.  She dropped her tone low. “I’m sorry,” she said in a soothing burr.  “That came out wrong.  I’m happy you decided to come.”

Reagan stared hard at the girl across the table, inspecting her visage for signs of deceit.  Finding nothing there, however, she reluctantly sat back down.

The rigidness of Allison’s body gave way as she sat down as well.  She said nothing and instead picked up her menu. “Am I going to offend you if I order eggs and bacon?”

Reagan raised a questioning eyebrow.

Allison looked over the top of her menu.  “I assume you’re still vegan,” she clarified.

“I’m surprised you remembered.  But don’t not do something on account of me,” Reagan said.  The ice in her tone sounded foreign to her ears.

Allison carefully set her menu down and pressed her lips together.  “What’s with this attitude?  You didn’t have to come here today,” she pointed out.  “Why are you here if you’re just going to insist on being rude?”

Reagan dropped her gaze to the tabletop.  Someone had carved initials into the wood and she traced the light lines with her fingertips.  “I came because I wanted to show you that I’ve changed since high school.”  She looked back up, hazarding a glance at the girl seated across from her.  The heat in those hazel eyes never failed to be intimidating.

“Well, you’re not the only one who’s different,” Allison murmured.

Reagan released a long breath that she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding.  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I don’t know where this attitude is coming from.”

The intensity in Allison’s eyes softened. “Don’t apologize.  Your anger is completely justified.  I was…” Her voice nearly cracked.  She paused, swallowed, and composed herself with a small smile.  “I was
horrible
to you in high school.”

She reached across the table to grab onto Reagan’s hand.  The brunette was taken aback by the unexpected gesture, and when Allison’s fingers brushed against her knuckles, she jerked her hand back, knocking over a plastic water glass.  Both women scrambled to their feet as the glass spilled its contents across the small table.

“Well at least it wasn’t the coffee,” Allison softly chuckled.

Reagan cursed under her breath and hastily grabbed a handful of paper napkins from the tin dispenser on the table.  She felt hot tears spring to the corners of her eyes.  She’d wanted so much to impress this girl from her past, but so far she’d only been rude and clumsy.

“Reagan,” Allison sighed as she continued to uselessly throw more and more napkins at the mess.  The napkins were made from a thin, cheap material and only became saturated with the water.  “Reagan,” she repeated, but her voice somehow wasn’t reaching her ears.

Finally, Allison grabbed Reagan’s wrists and physically
stopped her flailing.  Reagan’s head snapped up.  Her gaze showed her surprise from another unexpected Allison Hoge touch. 

“Leave it,” Allison softly urged.  She released her grip and reached for the wallet inside her jacket liner. She pulled a few bills from the wallet and tossed them on the table.

Reagan looked up questioningly.

“There wasn’t anything on the menu you could eat,” Allison said flatly.  She almost sounded bored.  “I’m assuming you’ve got a favorite vegan brunch place?” Her eyebrows rose expectantly.

Reagan nodded and chewed on her lower lip. “But it’s in Brooklyn,” she noted, finding her voice again, “and you have a train to catch.”

Allison grabbed her jacket and scarf and pulled them on.  “There’ll be other trains.” She rolled her eyes with impatience.  “Hurry up and put on your jacket, Murphy.  I’m hungry.”

Reagan held her arm in the air and flagged down one of the first taxicabs rolling down the street.  She checked over her shoulder to be sure Allison was still behind her and then opened the back passenger-side door to slide into the backseat.  The material of her pants caught momentarily on the vinyl bench seat and Allison, following immediately behind her, knocked into her as she’d expected Reagan to have been on the other side of the backseat by then.

“Sorry,” Allison
muttered uncomfortably.

“No, it was my fault,” Reagan countered as she put her seatbelt on.  She smiled politely at the taxi driver and told him the Brooklyn address of their brunch destination. The driver responded
with something unintelligible. She didn’t bother asking him to repeat himself, however.  When she’d first moved to the city she always asked the driver to repeat what he or she said, but most of the time it turned out they were talking to someone on the phone, the Bluetooth gadget hidden from plain view.

Outside the yellow taxicab, New York City bustled by.  Inside the vehicle, however, the passengers were quiet.  A news talk radio station chattered in the background, creating white noise.

“How do you like your school?” Allison asked when the silence had become unbearable.  She hated small talk, but she hated uncomfortable silence even more.

“It’s great, actually,” Reagan said, a natural smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  For all the grumbling she had done about last night’s homework assignment, she actually really loved
NYU.  She’d enjoyed the majority of the classes she’d taken, she loved her major field of study, and she’d met people who she could see being life-long friends. “Probably the best decision I ever made.”

“Those boots were a good decision, too,” Allison noted, nodding at the footwear in question.

Reagan looked down at her legs, startled to be on the receiving end of what felt like a genuine compliment.  “Oh, uh, thanks,” she stumbled.

A few awkward, silent minutes later, their cab stopped in front of the brunch location.
Reagan reached for her bag, but stopped when she felt Allison’s cool fingers brush against the top of her wrist.

“I’ve got this,” Allison said, already pulling her wallet out of her bag.

“No, you’re visiting,” Reagan protested.  She dug around her oversized bag in search of her wallet. “You’re already paying for your train ticket,” she noted, futilely looking for the small wallet floating somewhere in the chaos of her bag’s contents, “and if it weren’t for my specialized eating habits, we could have gotten something at the other place.  I should take care of this.”

“Stop trying to be so noble,” Allison said more forcefully. She handed her credit card to the taxi driver. “My dad pays for my bills,” she stated flippantly. “Let him take care of this.”