BLACKOUT

by Olivia Evans

“Maybe I should give everyone a couple extra days off,” Katherine joked. “Seems it works wonders. I knew all my friends at Tech couldn’t have been wrong about you. Keep it up.” I let out a relieved sigh when Katherine turned and walked away. I’d dodged a bullet. At least for now.

  It was almost 8:00 p.m. when I walked through the front door of my apartment. Krista and Ethan were on the couch watching SportsCenter, eating out of takeout boxes. “Where’ve you been?” Krista asked between bites of noodles. “I tried to call, but your phone went to voice mail.”

  “Shit.” I pulled my phone from my purse and stared at the black screen. “It died. I’ve been at work finishing up a project. I totally lost track of time and, apparently, the battery life of my phone.”

  “Well, come sit down,” Ethan said, patting the spot next to him. “We got you lo mein. There’s an open bottle of sake in the kitchen.”

  I fell onto the couch and grabbed the takeout, passing on the sake. I hadn’t been much of a drinker since the night of the party. When I did drink, I tended to overindulge in the hope of not waking to the screams of my nightmares.

  Ethan leaned close to me, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was worried about you. I know I’m not your keeper, but if you think about it, text one of us so we know you’re okay.”

  I nodded and let my head fall against his shoulder. “Okay.”

  The next few weeks passed on a never-ending loop of repetitiveness. The only breaks from my routine were my Wednesday and Sunday trips to the support group and Lucky’s. I still hadn’t given my name or spoken, but no one seemed bothered by that fact. It made me feel safe. It made me feel part of something. Ethan and Krista had started to push a little more for me to go out, to have dinner or drinks with friends, but I always passed. I just wasn’t ready. The truth was, I still harbored a fear that I would be out with friends and the mystery man’s face would disappear, replaced by an image of someone I knew. It was a silly fear, but it was there nonetheless, and I couldn’t shake it.

  I looked at my watch and groaned. It was already ten after five, and if I didn’t hurry, I would miss most of the meeting. Deciding it wasn’t worth the pain in my feet to walk the last few blocks, I flagged down a taxi and gave the driver Lucky’s address. It might have seemed dumb, but I didn’t want the driver to know where I was going. Throwing money through the plexiglass opening, I jumped out of the car and slammed the door before rushing across the street and inside the building. I paused at the entrance, a strange feeling washing over me. Something felt different. There was no murmur of voices or scent of coffee coming from the meeting room. I backed toward the door, telling myself I should just leave, when the sound of a chair scraping across the floor caught my attention.

  I let out a heavy sigh before walking down the hall into the meeting room. “Oh,” I said, my eyes scanning the nearly empty room. Nearly empty because in the middle of the room stood Gavin with a chair in his hand.

  He nearly dropped it at the sound of my voice before letting out an embarrassed laugh. “Shit. You scared me.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling my own face heat. “Where is everyone?”

  Gavin folded the chair in his hand and walked over to the wall, stacking it with the others. “Melissa’s sick. She has numbers for most of the people who come here, so she texted them to let them know. I’d already set everything up before I knew, so I volunteered to clean up and hang out in case anyone showed up.”

  I clutched the strap of my purse and shifted my weight. Coming to these meetings had become part of my routine; it gave me a sense of normalcy and structure, both of which I craved. Being alone in the building with Gavin, though, felt dangerous. It wasn’t that I wasn’t used to seeing him. He’d been at almost every meeting the last few weeks, and everyone seemed to love him. Still, the feeling of unease caused the hairs on the back of my neck to prick. I turned to leave when it dawned on me what it was. It was the first time since the night of the party that I’d been alone with a man other than Ethan.

  “Don’t be a coward,” I whispered to myself while looking around the room.

  “What was that?” Gavin asked, continuing to stack the chairs like I wasn’t even there. I cleared my throat and set my purse on the table.

  “Want some help?”

  Gavin shrugged. “Up to you. I’ve got it if you’d like to take off, but I wouldn’t mind the company. This place is a little creepy when there isn’t a group of people here.”

  I laughed in agreement. “I was just thinking the same thing.” Moving to the chairs, I followed Gavin’s lead and stacked the remaining chairs in the corner before pouring out the coffee then boxing up the snacks and putting them in the fridge in the back of the room. We didn’t speak, working in silence as we went about our tasks.

  “Well, that’s it.” Gavin reached for my purse and handed it to me. “Thanks for your help.”

  “It was no problem. I’m so used to coming here, I’m not really sure what to do with myself now.”

  “I know what you mean. I’m not a big fan of change.” Gavin led me down the hall and out into the street, pausing to lock the door behind us.

  “You have a key?”

  Gavin ducked his head. “Yeah. This is my uncle’s building. It was just sitting here unused, so I suggested he open it to support groups. He figured it would be a good tax deduction, so he agreed.”

  “Wow,” I said, feeling a bit stunned. “That was really nice of you.” I wanted to ask what Gavin’s story was, why he was here, but stopped myself. It was no more my business to pry into his life than it was for him to pry into mine. Still, the knowledge that he was the reason I was able to attend these meetings made me look at him a little differently.

  “It’s nothing,” he said, laughing when his stomach let out a loud rumble. “I guess I shouldn’t have skipped lunch today.”

  “I’m going over to Lucky’s for a bite to eat. Would you like to join me?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and had I not shocked myself into stillness, I would have slapped my hand over my mouth.

  Gavin’s eyes widened, and he cupped the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly. “Um…”

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I don’t know why I said that. I mean, you’re welcome to join me, of course, but I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Which I’m likely doing by telling you I didn’t mean to invite you but still inviting you anyway. Jesus.”

  “It’s okay,” Gavin promised. “I was just surprised. You’ve made a point of keeping your distance from me, so an invitation to spend more time together was unexpected. Not unwelcome,” he added quickly. “Just unexpected.”

  I frowned. “I hope I haven’t been rude. I haven’t meant to be, anyway. All of this is just…” I waved my hand in the air like that would explain all the unspoken words I wanted to say.

  “Yeah. I get it.” For the first time, I felt like maybe he did. Instead of comfort, it only made my curiosity burn brighter.

  “So, food? Are we doing this?” I asked with a smile.

  “I guess so.” Gavin waved his arm out in a gesture for me to take the lead and followed me across the street and into the diner. I made my way to the booth by the jukebox that had become my table over the last few weeks.

  “Evening, Lonna,” Bill, the gray-haired cook and Pearl’s husband, said as I took a seat. “Pearl!” he shouted. “Lonna’s here.” He lowered his voice when he spoke again, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. “And she has a friend.”

  “Oh God,” I muttered, my hands covering my face. “Sorry about that. I guess I’ve become a bit of a regular.” When Gavin didn’t speak, I peeked up at him. “What?”

  “I just realized you’ve never said your name. I like it. It suits you.”

  The color drained from my face. “I, uh, I haven’t told anyone. Well, except Pearl. And obviously Bill. I just—”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” Gavin cut in, clearly seeing my distress. “I can pretend I don
’t know if that will make you feel any better. I’ll give you an alias or something. How about Beatrix?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Like Beatrix Kiddo?”

  “Sure. Why not? Can you think of a more badass alter ego?”

  I thought back to the Kill Bill movies and how Beatrix fought her way through every obstacle in front of her, never giving up. Yeah, I could handle being like Beatrix. I remembered Beatrix’s time in the hospital, the things that were done to her and her inability to stop any of them. Maybe I was more like Beatrix than I realized.

  “You okay?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah. I’m fine. And you can call me Lonna. It just caught me off guard. I mean, I’ve known your name for weeks, and I am the one who invited you to dinner. The least I can do is tell you my name.”

  “Okay.” Gavin let the subject go, much to my relief, and picked up the menu. “What’s good here?”

  “Everything,” I sighed before launching into a lengthy description of the menu that had Pearl trying to convince me to come work for them. Once we’d ordered our food, another awkward silence settled over us.

  “Does the jukebox work?” Gavin asked.

  “Yes!” My answer might have been a little more enthusiastic than necessary, but I was eager for the silence to go away as well.

  Gavin grabbed a few bills from his wallet and, after getting change from Bill, met me at the jukebox. “Let’s see what they have.”

  Side by side, we looked over the song choices. I was certain the newest song was from the early eighties. “How do you feel about oldies?” I dropped in the money and pressed the buttons for my songs.

  “I like oldies just fine. My grandmother played them all the time when I was a kid. I remember a lot of these songs from my time with her.”

  “What were your favorites?”

  Gavin squinted as he looked over the titles, and his expression made me smile. I took the opportunity of his distraction to really look at him. He was tall and lean, his build much like Ethan’s, but that was where the similarities ended. A smattering of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and dotted his cheeks. His messy hair was a honeyed golden brown, like it had been kissed by the sun, but his fair completion hinted that he didn’t spend a lot of time basking outdoors. His eyes, from what I could tell, were a soft blue, framed by thick brows and dark lashes. His jaw was covered in a thin dusting of scruff, and his full lips, with their deep Cupid’s bow, looked incredibly soft.

  Jesus, I scolded myself. Way to be inappropriate.

  “Are you done?”

  I blinked, and I felt my face color with embarrassment. “What?”

  “With your songs,” Gavin said slowly, his brows furrowed. “We can sit if you are.”

  I exhaled. “Oh. Yes, I’m done.”

  We returned to the booth just as the opening melody of “Stand by Me” began to play through the speakers. “This is a great song,” Gavin said. “Good choice.”

  “I love the movie. It’s one of my favorites. Well, it’s one of my mom’s favorites, and as soon as it was appropriate for me to watch it, she played it all the time. Basically, it became a favorite by default.”

  “Sounds about right,” Gavin laughed.

  “Here you go,” Pearl said, placing two large plates in front of us. “I hope you’re hungry because we’ve got a new cake back there that you just have to try.”

  I groaned. “I’m going to gain a hundred pounds if you keep it up with these delicious cakes!”

  “Nonsense,” Pearl scoffed. “Besides, you could stand a little more meat on your bones. Now, eat up. I’ll be back to check on you two in a bit.”

  “She’s something else,” Gavin commented.

  “She’s the best. She and Bill have been great to me. How have you never come in here?”

  Gavin took a bite of his burger and moaned. “I had no idea what I was missing, apparently. Holy shit, this is amazing.”

  “Right?” I laughed. “This place is the bomb dot com.”

  Gavin paused and looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. “Did you just say ‘the bomb dot com’? Isn’t that some old-ass nineties saying?”

  I pursed my lips. “It’s making a comeback. Trust me.”

  “Oh, really now? And how would you know that?”

  “I work in advertising. It’s my job to know what’s current in pop culture so I can hit targeted audiences.”

  “Impressive. Can you give me a heads-up when teased hair and mullets are on their way back in? I’ll want a head start looking for a private island to hide out on until that fad passes again.”

  I laughed, picturing Gavin with teased hair and a long mullet with bright-blue eyeshadow. “How do you feel about acid-washed jeans because…” I let the rest of the sentence hang in the air and was not disappointed by his horror-stricken expression.

  “No.”

  “Oh yes,” I teased. “Better practice tight-rolling your jeans. You’re in for a bumpy ride.”

  “I really hope you’re fucking with me. Otherwise, we’re all doomed.”

  I popped a fry in my mouth and shrugged. “Guess you’ll find out soon enough.”

  “I hope you two left room,” Pearl said, interrupting my teasing. She set a single plate with a fork on either side in the center of the table. “Made fresh today. Lemon Meringue Mousse Cake.”

  “I’m not going to make it out of this place alive,” Gavin muttered, his eyes wide.

  Pearl let out a full laugh and pointed at me. “She said almost the same thing the first time she was here. If she can make it, surely you can, young man.”

  I smirked and sank my fork into the dessert. “I think Pearl just threw down a challenge.”

  Gavin let out a heavy sigh and picked up his fork. “I can’t have you showing me up in front of Pearl. I saw her making eyes at me earlier.”

  “You did not,” I giggled, covering my mouth to keep from spitting out my food. “Besides, Pearl would eat you alive.”

  Gavin cut his eyes to where Pearl stood by the counter. “Now that, I believe.”

  We spent the next ten minutes fighting over bites of cake while laughing at Pearl and Bill bickering behind the counter. It was the most fun I’d had in months. The thought caused me to pull in a sharp breath. What on earth was I doing?

  “Are you choking? I told you to let me have the last bite.”

  I let out a weak cough and took a sip of water. It was like a bucket of ice had been dropped on my head. “I think my eyes were bigger than my stomach,” I said, playing off the awkward moment. I would think about it more later, but now wasn’t the time. Gavin might ask questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. Once we’d finished and split the check at my insistence, we stood.

  Pearl walked over and gave me a hug. “See you Sunday?” When I nodded, Pearl lowered her voice and spoke again. “I hope you bring your friend back. I like the way he makes you smile.”

  I pulled back, stunned and a little embarrassed. I looked at Gavin to see if he’d heard the exchange, but he was deep in conversation with Bill about something. I gave her a small smile and shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe’s good enough for me. See you soon, honey.”

  Outside the diner, Gavin and I stood in the warm summer sun, the heat not as sweltering, thanks to the nice breeze. “There’s a real chance I’m going to face-plant as soon as I get home and fall into a sugar coma. If I’m not here on Sunday, you’ll know that Pearl and her delicious cake did me in,” Gavin said.

  “Here lies Gavin,” I said somberly. “Taken from this world by Pearl and her cake of doom.”

  Gavin was silent for a moment before he let out a loud laugh. “Cake of doom? You make Pearl sound like an assassin. Maybe we should call her Beatrix.”

  “Maybe not,” I giggled. “She’s married to Bill. We can’t have her kill him.”

  “You’re right. The thought of never having his food again is depressing as hell.”

  “Truer words were never spoken.”
The conversation seemed to die down, and eventually, I cleared my throat. “Well, I better head home. I have to work in the morning.”

  “Me too. Um, thanks for inviting me to eat. I had a really nice time. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed like that.”

  I knew exactly what he meant. “Me too.”

  “See you Sunday?” Gavin asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down the sidewalk.

  “Yeah. I’ll see you then.” Not in the mood to walk home, I stepped out and flagged down an approaching cab. “Have a nice weekend,” I said, sliding into the back seat.

  “You too.” Gavin gave a wave as the cab accelerated. I looked back once, watching his image fade into the distance. During the ride home, my head filled with memories of the last hour. I’d been so leery of Gavin since our first meeting, but he wasn’t at all what I expected. He wasn’t some hot, cocky guy who delighted in listening to stories of others’ pain. If anything, he seemed to have just as much of a right to be there as anyone.

  I thought about the way I looked at him and some of the less than pure thoughts that flitted through my mind. Those were the parts that were the worst. What kind of person was I? Who in their right mind eye-fucked someone they met at a sexual assault support group? It was disgusting. Had it been the other way around, I never would have spoken to him again. Who said he didn’t? I felt even worse when I realized that possibility didn’t bother me nearly as much as it should. Would it always be like this? Would I always feel dirty for having thoughts that, in the past, were an everyday occurrence? Would I always punish myself for feeling attraction and having moments of happiness where I wasn’t consumed with shame?

  “What did you bring tonight?” Ethan asked, clapping his hands together eagerly as I walked through the door. I stopped short when I realized my mistake. Ever since I’d shared my cake with Ethan a few weeks ago, I’d made sure to grab a slice to bring home for the two of us. I had completely forgotten. I felt awful.

  Ethan frowned when he noticed my expression. “Hey, it’s okay. I can eat an Oreo or something. It’s not a big deal.”

  I let out a strangled laugh, and my throat tightened. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much that I forgot the cake, but it did. “I’m sorry. Group was canceled today, and it just threw everything off.”