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Authors: Eliza Lentzski

Second Chances (27 page)

BOOK: Second Chances
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Reagan nodded, but she couldn’t deny she felt a little disappointed that Allison didn’t automatically know what she wanted.

“Will you lay down with me?
” Allison asked, wringing her hands.  “No funny business, I promise.”

Reagan was
surprised.  When Allison had said she needed to sleep on it, she hadn’t imagined she wanted to “sleep on it” in
her
bed.  She nodded silently and the two moved to lay on the bed on top of the covers.

Allison glanced at the closed bedroom door.  “Should we lock your
door?”

Reagan quirked an eyebrow.  “Why? Is my dad going to walk in on something he shouldn’t?”

Allison dropped her gaze.  “N-no,” she stammered.  “Did you really tell him about last night?”

“Not in graphic detail,” Reagan scoffed. “
We’re not
that
close. But yes, I did tell him about you and me.”

Allison blinked once. “Oh.  And how did he react?”

“He was a little confused at first, I think.” Reagan paused and looked wistful before continuing.  “He obviously knows what our relationship was like in high school.  So it took him some time to wrap his head around the idea that my high school tormenter was now my lover.”

“Oh
my God,” Allison groaned.  “Don’t
ever
say that word again.”

Reagan giggled. “Lover?”

“Seriously.” Allison rolled her eyes.  “Are you a Harlequin romance novel?”

“Well as soon as you admit you want to date me, I’ll replace it with girlfriend.  Do you like that better?”

Allison chewed on her lower lip.  “I might.  I don’t know.” She played with Reagan’s fingers and they remained silent for a comfortable moment.

“I had lunch with Beth today.  I told her about you.  About us.”

Reagan looked surprised.  “You did? What did you tell her?”

“I admit I met up with her at first to make sure she knew how important
discretion is.  If my parents found out…”

“I know,” Reagan sighed, cutting her off.  “You don’t have to explain it to me again.  I get it.”

Allison examined the other girl’s face.  “But I realized something,” she said softly.  “After talking to Beth I realized how
relieved
I was that somebody knew; that I didn’t have to keep this a secret anymore.”  She grabbed Reagan’s hands and brought her knuckles to her lips.  “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.  And I’m
so
sorry I’m not brave enough to shout it from the mountaintops. You deserve so much better than me.”

“It’s not like I’m an expert at this either,” Reagan noted.  “I’ve never thought about having to, I don’t know, Come Out.  I’m just lucky that I have a dad who loves me unconditionally.  Not that
your
parents don’t love you,” she hastily self-corrected when she saw Allison’s frown.

“No. You’re right.  My parents, especially my dad, love the
idea
of me.  Ivy League school.  Top of the pyramid.”  She sighed deeply.  “I just hope Lucy doesn’t go through the same pressure that I felt when I was her age.”

“You seemed to turn out alright,” Reagan observed, “even with all that pressure.”

Allison snorted.  “That’s highly debatable.  ”

“At least you got good genes out of the deal.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Rea.” Allison brushed her fingers through Reagan’s thick, dark hair. “You’re so beautiful,” she breathed reverently. 

Reagan averted her eyes. 

“Don’t.”

Reagan flicked her eyes back to Allison’s face. “Don’t what
?”

Hazel eyes stared intensely back at her. “Don’t doubt what I say is true,” Allison said fiercely.

 

+++++

 

Reagan rolled over in bed and threw out an arm, expecting to find Allison beside her.  But she found only an empty space, however, and the sheets were cool to the touch.  She sat up in bed and rubbed at her eyes.  She pulled her hands away from her face when she heard her bedroom door click open. “Where did you go?” she asked in a sleep-confused voice.

Allison stood in the doorway.  “I took a shower.  I used your things,” she said, fidgeting.  “I hope you don’t mind.”

Reagan allowed her eyes to focus on the woman in the doorway of her bedroom.  Unlike her own sleep-disheveled appearance, Allison looked meticulous and ready for the day despite wearing the clothes she’d worn the previous night.  Her hair was clean and carefully flat-ironed. 

She rubbed at her eyes again. “Why are you dressed?” she croaked.  “I thought we could have a lazy day today.”

Allison’s features were unreadable, but she kept rubbing the tip of her thumb over her pointer finger, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood. 

Reagan sat up straighter in bed.  Something was off.  “What is it?” Her chest tightened with dread.  “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, Reagan.”

“Do what? Have a lazy day?  We’re on vacation.”

Allison dropped her hands at her sides and began clenching and unclenching her fists.  “I can’t be with you.”

“When did you come to this decision?  Before or after using my conditioner?  Cause really, I’m not particularly attached to that brand if you don’t like it.”

“I’d still like for us to be friends,” Allison said quietly.  She dropped her head and her blonde hair cascaded in front of her face.

“You’re being serious right now, aren’t you?” Reagan grabbed onto her fitted sheet to keep from launching out of bed.

Allison tilted her head back up.  Reagan noticed her eyes for the first time; they were bloodshot and red rimmed as though she’d been crying
for a while.  “I told you before.  I can’t be gay.”  She choked on the words.  “My father, my family, would disown me.”

“What changed in a single night, Allie?” Reagan implored.

Allison shook her head from side to side.  She shut her eyes tight and a few tears squeezed out.  “It was just a silly dream to think things could be different – that
I
could be different.”  She brushed her fingers under her eyes and swept away the wetness. "I'm sorry, Reagan. I'm just not ready for this. I'm not ready to be gay; I'm not ready to be anyone's girlfriend."

“I don’t accept this,” Reagan said defiantly.  She straightened her back.

Allison’s eyes narrowed.  Despite the situation, she was still Allison Hoge.  And
no one
challenged her decisions once she had made up her mind.  “You have no choice,” she said icily.  She spun on her heels and immediately fled down the stairs.

Reagan remained rigid in bed until she heard the front door open and close.

 

+++++

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

 

Allison sat at the window seat in the living room of her rented house. Outside, a light snow had begun to fall – the first of the early winter season.  The flakes were heavy and oversized and would no doubt result in some serious accumulation overnight if it continued. She pulled her knit cardigan tighter.  The windows were old and drafty and she could feel the residual chill from outside every time the wind blew.  There were much warmer places to sit in the house, but the window seat was one of her favorite spots, even with the weather.

She blew across the top of her ceramic mug, cooling down the hot tea she’d just poured herself.  In a pile next to her was the day’s mail.  It was mostly fliers and junk mail, but amongst the trash that would soon be in the recycle bin was a legal-sized envelope made of heavy paper stock.  Allison had immediately recognized the logo on the return address.

She’d held her breath as she opened the cream-colored envelope.  She hadn’t needed to read the entire letter.  She just needed to read the opening 5 words:
“We are pleased to accept…”

Getting her undergraduate degree from Brown, combined with her high standardized test scores and 4.0 GPA had all but guaranteed her acceptance into the most elite graduate programs around the country.  But for the first time since she’d made the decision to pursue graduate school, the prospect of going to school on the West Coast was no longer an uncomplicated decision.

She fingered the acceptance letter from Stanford and inspected the careful black font that promised full tuition and a generous stipend for living expenses over the course of her graduate career.   Allison sighed and let the letter slip from her fingers. Now she all she had to do was count down the days until graduation when she could pick up and move someplace else and start all over again.  Again.

Since the drama that had occurred over Fall break, she’d been bombarded with phone calls, text messages, and emails from Reagan.  And since that day when she’d woken up in Reagan’s childhood bedroom, she’d ignored them.

She had promised they could still be friends, and even though she’d said the words, she didn’t really believe it.  She couldn’t just be friends with Reagan Murphy. It was just a matter of time before Reagan gave up on this charade and moved on.  She knew she was being selfish, but how could she be happy seeing Reagan move on and finding happiness with someone who wasn’t herself?

Her phone jangled with the text message sound she’d assigned to Reagan’s number and hadn’t bothered to change back.  She picked up her phone and glanced at the screen.
“Where are you?”
She set her phone back beside her on the window seat without responding.  She picked up the weekend paper and turned to the crossword puzzle.

She chewed on the end of her pen.  1 Across.  “Ride up and Down.”

Her phone buzzed again. 

“Are you home?”

Allison made a disgruntled noise and tossed her paper to the side.  She typed off a response. 
“Why?”

She was acutely aware that this was the first time she’d responded back to any of Reagan’s attempts to contact her since Fall break.

“Because I’m at your front door.”

Allison leapt to her feet and raced to the front entrance.  Without bothering looking out the peephole, she threw the door open.  There, with a duffle bag in one hand, stood Reagan Murphy, slightly damp from the snow. Allison clenched the edge of the wooden door, but said nothing.

Reagan stamped her foot impatiently.  “I came all the way here; the least you can do is invite me in.”

Allison took a step back and opened the door perceptibly wider.

Not waiting for an invitation, Reagan brushed past Allison and into the front foyer.  She dropped her duffle bag onto the floor.

Allison stared down at the bag.  “You brought clothes?”

“Well I’m not going to sleep in this,” Reagan huffed.  “And I figured under the circumstances, you’d feel uncomfortable if I slept naked.”

“You expect to sleep over?” Allison arched an eyebrow.

Reagan pressed her lips together.  “I expect you to be polite, Allison.  You’d do that much for an acquaintance from high school, wouldn’t you?”

Allison’s shoulders slumped forward in defeat.  “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I care about you.  And I deserve to know why you’re doing this to us.”

Allison’s head snapped up.  “There is no
us
,” she said with heat. “I’ve told you,” she practically growled.  “I can’t do this anymore with you.”

Reagan tried to remain calm.  She’d been expecting this – this denial, anger, and stubbornness.  But she was stubborn too, and she was angry.  “I know,” she snapped back bitterly.  “You’re not gay.  Say it enough and maybe one day you’ll have yourself convinced.”

Allison’s body seemed to jump forward on its own accord until she was practically nose-to-nose with Reagan. “How
dare you
presume to think you know anything about me or my situation,” she seethed.

“You’re in so much denial, you don’t even know yourself!” Reagan hollered back.

“I know enough about myself to know that I don’t want
you
.”

Reagan’s face immediately crumbled.  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.  “I thought…I shouldn’t have come.”  She stiffly bent and retrieved her bag from the floor.

“Reagan,” Allison sighed tiredly.  She rubbed at her face with both hands.  “Don’t do this.”

Ignoring Allison’s words, Reagan tilted her chin up, and like a wound-up toy soldier, marched back outside.

Allison stood in the doorway.  “Reagan,” she called out after the other girl in an even, emotionless tone.

Reagan remained closed lipped and continued back in the direction of the train station.

“Reagan!” Allison hissed, not wanting to draw attention to them, and still unwilling to move from the front porch. Reagan continued walking away, not hearing or choosing to ignore her.

“Reagan!” Allison finally yelled.  “God damn it,” she cursed.  She took off at a full sprint, barefoot and in the snow.  “Reagan!” she called again. 

BOOK: Second Chances
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