by Tara Wimble
It’s when she pulls her wet hair over her shoulder, after stepping out of the shower, does she stop again.
She can count the amount of times they shared a bed together. She can even count the amount of times they slept together but Janice can’t put a number on how long she traced the scar on her shoulder with undisguised awe. The white circle from the bullet is a shape she could draw from memory.
Janice touches the place it would be on her shoulder, pressing down on the skin with longing and upset. Of course someone else would know that scar. Of course she wasn’t the first. She just imagined that she was the only one touching it and thinking about it now.
After wrapping a towel around her body, Janice makes her way back to her room to finish getting ready. The time she has before class is slowly disappearing and the effort she puts into getting dressed goes with it. She manages to pull on a pair of sweats, the universal sign for heartbreak or ‘I don’t know how much I drank last night’, and a tank top with UCLA Soccer written over the front. Amy left it in her room the last time they hung out and Janice hopes that people will mistake her outfit for gym wear and leave her alone.
The leftovers don’t have much time to be reheated and Janice only manages a few spoonfuls before her phone buzzes again. It’s her class reminder, not Hope, this time and she breathes a small sigh of something other than relief before grabbing her bag, ready to face the outside world.
She can do this.
Even if it hurts.
Politics is a good, if boring, distraction. Her head spins around lecture notes and references for a good few hours instead of Hope and she comes out of her last class feeling a little better. Her classmates brush past her and gather into their groups. It makes her feel terribly lonely all over again until the path clears and an angel arrives.
Laurel leans against the wall opposite her classroom with a welcoming smile that gets bigger as Janice approaches. “I see you made it out today.”
“One day at a time.” Janice admits bashfully. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking you to King’s. You need to vent.” Laurel pauses. “And eat.”
Janice’s empty stomach hasn’t heard of a better idea since she dragged herself out of the room this morning. She follows Laurel to King’s, much like she followed her into registration on that first day of college where they met Lexie, content and safe in the closeness of her friend.
She doesn’t have to think about anything. Laurel ushers her into a seat and they both make waving gestures at Jasmine without Janice remembering too much about this place or that girl or anything. Menus come to them and Janice spends the next five minutes debating between a burger or a wrap.
“Thinkin’ real hard there.”
“Depends on how much time you want to spend talking.” Janice retorts.
Laurel pulls out the sauces from their places. “That’s entirely up to you.”
Laurel’s words douse her with relief. That worry that Santos was going to bring up their last conversation about Hope and rub in her concerns proving to be right doesn’t vanish completely but she knows that it’s not going to be thrown back in her face.
Janice decides on the burger and Laurel keeps her word and keeps quiet until Janice is ready.
“How are you feeling?” Laurel asks.
Janice dips some of the crunchier fries into her side sauces before answering. “Tired. Drained.” She glances up. “Still upset.”
Laurel shuffles around the circle booth to Janice’s right hand side. Face to face conversations are hard so when Laurel puts her arm around her shoulder, Janice sinks into her thankfully and it suddenly feels easier to talk.
“Have you talked to her?”
“No.” Janice admits. “She keeps calling and I know that I should. In all fairness I should just talk to her because I ran out without even listening to her-”
“Which is still fair on your part. After what she did.”
Too much emphasis falls on ‘what Hope did’. Every time Janice or someone else says it the impact increases. What Hope did. What Hope did to her. When in reality what she did was lie to her and let the ripple effect come crashing over her all at once.
“But, would you want to talk to her?”
“What’s the difference between wanting to and giving her a chance to?” Janice asks.
Laurel rubs her thumb against her shoulder. “Wanting implies you’ll listen to her.”
“I don’t know if I can hear it all over again.” Janice confesses. “She’s married or she was married when she started seeing me and she lied to me about it. I gave her a chance to come clean and tell me-” That’s almost the worst part. “And she lied to my face about it before-”
“Before you guys-” Laurel gestures her hand and Janice snorts.
“You can say it.”
“I’m respecting the seriousness of the situation.” Laurel chides. “Before you had sex, there.”
Janice sighs into Laurel’s collar. “She took me to her grandparent’s beach house and we just, we spent hours walking up and down that beach like we were the only two people in the world.”
Remember that part about dramatics? Janice can fantasize all she wants about the burnt orange sky and the sand that stuck to her skin when Hope brushed her arm over her shoulder, it doesn’t change how that night has a new meaning to it.
“How am I meant to face her?”
Laurel pauses. “What are you really worried about? That she cheated on her husband with you?”
Janice stays quiet.
“Jan,” Laurel murmurs. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
“I’m embarrassed.” Janice whispers. Her hand quickly wipes away a tear that falls down her cheek. “I feel like some stupid schoolgirl who got too wrapped up in a daydream. She made me feel like- it was serious to me. It was serious.”
She knows Laurel was skeptical from the beginning. Janice was too wild, too flirty with everyone, when they first met. The freedom from her parents gave her a new breathing room to explore and she thrived on it. Hope coming along stopped that in its tracks. Janice settled. Janice fell hard.
“You feel embarrassed because you opened up to her thinking that you were in a relationship.” Laurel voices. “And now-”
“And now I’ve been proven wrong, right?” Janice coughs. “Because she couldn’t commit to a relationship with me if she was still in one with someone else which means I was the toy. I was the fling on the side that she pulled. She used me.”
Their conversation is private. They exist in their own little bubble which is why they both stop suddenly when Jasmine passes by to collect their plates. They delay getting any more drinks but Laurel asks the senior for the biggest ice cream sundae they have for Janice.
When she walks away Janice wonders if Hope has talked to Jasmine. Every time they’ve met in King’s Hope has always had a good word to say about the girl.
“Laurel.” Janice turns her head to look her friend in the eyes. “What do I do?”
“Do you want my honest reply?”
“I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
Laurel chews on the inside of her mouth for a few seconds, debating her answer. “In all honesty, I think you have to give it some time. What I care about, more than anything, is seeing you recover a little more than this. Get back to class and just get over this hurt.”
Janice is about to interrupt, protesting to her ability to just ‘get over it’, when Laurel continues.
“Then decide what you want to do. If you care about Hope still, once the dust has settled, then you should talk to her. Wanting to talk to her means listening to her side of the story, which from what I can guess is probably a lot more complicated than Lexie or Robin say it is.” Laurel stops again when Jasmine brings back the ice cream for Janice. There’s a ridiculous amount of sprinkles topping it and Janice almost starts crying again over Jasmine’s gesture. “But only when you can and right now all you should worry about is getting rid of that ice cr
eam because there’s no way I can manage this on my own.”
Janice picks up one of the spoons gratefully. “What would I do without you?”
Laurel scoops. “Let’s not find out.”
Somehow they manage it and even Jasmine looks impressed when she takes back the bowl. Laurel moves around to her side of the booth to find her bag when Janice hears the little bell on the door ring out.
The safe feeling she’s let settle is disrupted when the door opens. Laurel sees her face and instantly says: “Hope?”
But it’s not Hope.
“It’s um, her partner’s-”
She’s a little too loud with her mumbling and Sara turns around to see her. Under the lights at King’s Janice can see Sara better. She has more of a tan than the benefit made out and her hair is dyed black underneath the blonde. That sleeve of tattoos she admired makes her stand out against the counter of students lining up for food. Janice remembers the conversations they had and how she liked this woman instantly.
The confession is the sour aftertaste.
“Janice?” Sara leaves her place in line, surrendering it to a junior with mad deadline looking eyes, for their table. When she gets within an inch of Laurel’s warning stare, she stops. “Shit, sorry- I must be the last person you want to see.” She apologizes with her hands up.
“Not exactly.” Janice tries to joke but it falls flat when all her voice is capable of conveying is upset. She tries to reason with herself that it wasn’t Sara’s fault that she didn’t know and that she was nice enough to drive her home afterwards. She was there for her. She was kind.
Sara purses her lips and tugs at the bands on her wrist. “Look, I’m so sorry about the other night- what I said wasn’t on. It wasn’t, well, tact has never been a strong point.”
Laurel eyes Sara. “But it was true, wasn’t it?”
Sara is thrown momentarily by Laurel’s knowledge of the situation but she nods after. “I didn’t know that he was going to be there. And I didn’t know that you didn’t know.”
“That what? That she’s married?”
“Divorced.” Sara corrects with a protective tone.
“It doesn’t really matter.” Janice throws out.
Sara clenches a fist against her palm in a way that says it does. “Have you spoken to her?”
“No.”
Neither of them want this conversation to go on. Things were easier when it was about surfing and ink. Sara looks uncomfortable to be caught up in something without Vianne by her side. “Has she tried to call you?”
“Yes.”
“Look, Janice-” Sara is softer spoken now which makes it hard to hear her over the din of the after class rush. “-what Hope did, by not telling you, was a shitty thing. There’s no denying it. But-”
“But I should listen to what she has to say?” Janice finishes for her. “Thanks but I think the best thing I can do is stay out of this cocoon of whatever she has going on, or do you think that I appreciate being lied to?”
All the hard work Laurel had accomplished slides off her back.
Sara places her hands on the table. “I think, if you cared about her, you’d listen to what she has to say. Not what I said. Not what your friends said. Or even the rumors floating around. Her.”
Janice fills with something that burns like embarrassment and anger at the same time. Sara flares with a defensive stare. “And when you’ve both said your piece, then decide if all this-” She gestures. “Is justified.”
Laurel looks like she’s going to tell Sara to back off when the woman does of her own accord. Janice tries to focus on Laurel’s advice but Sara’s strangeness overpowers those words. They’re trying to say the same thing but Sara has a side and it shows in her words.
She gives a frustrated glance to Janice’s downturned face, like she didn’t mean to come off this strong, and stuffs her hands in her pockets. “You’re a nice girl, Janice. Probably too nice for Hope in all honesty, but it takes a lot from what Vianne has told me, to get through to her like you have.”
Sara steps back and looks at the line in defeat. There’s no way she’s getting served now. “Between you and the rest of L.A? Her ex-husband hasn’t got anything on you.”
For all the calls, all the nights Robin stayed up with her and all the gestures her friends have made, Sara’s comment is the first thing in over a week to bring a genuine, guilt-free smile to her face. “You think?” Janice laughs, looking down at the table.
If she looked up, she’d see the grateful, yet protective smile on Laurel’s face and the simple truth in Sara’s offering. “I don’t lie to pretty girls.”
Sweet with the sour, the comment seems to bring a dose of reality back with it and Sara says her goodbyes, though Janice doesn’t think it’ll be long before she sees her again. “Sara,” Janice says. “Vianne’s a lucky girl.”
Sara taps on the booth by the door before risking her next statement. “So’s Hope.”
Janice collapses against the table once Sara has left, no doubt to finish packing her bags for Germany and waiting for Vianne to finish work like she’d mentioned the other day. Her elbows soften the blow but she heaves over it into dry sobs just quiet enough for people not to notice. Laurel stays next to her, rubbing circles on her back, until she’s able to sit up again.
“Tell you what,” Laurel soothes. “How about I call Amy and see if she’s free tonight and we can run down to one of their practice fields and kick a ball around or something?”
Janice nods. “Yeah.”
“She’s worried about you.” Laurel offers.
“I’ll be okay.” Janice sighs and her body relaxes for the first time since they sat down. Seeing Sara wasn’t a part of the plan but her words have sunk in. Laurel is right but Sara was right too. She needs to do something at least.
“Can you do something for me?” Janice wipes her eyes and fumbles for her bag.
“Sure.” Laurel answers without question.
Janice slides her phone along the table. “I need time. I need some space just to figure myself out and to do all the things you said.”
Laurel takes the phone in understanding. “I can call her if you want.”
“If you could just tell her something.” Janice expresses rather than specifies. “I just need some time before I step back into this shitstorm again.”
Laurel laughs in relief at Janice’s openness. “Yeah. I can do that.”
***
DESPITE the medal and the storm that followed Hope and Vianne still find themselves patrolling the college campus. It feels like she’s sneaking around and with every corner they turn Hope both wants and dreads to see Janice’s face.
The radio silence she’s getting is telling enough.
Vianne does all she can but it’s not fair on her, trying to keep her own mind off the fact Sara is flying back to Germany tonight, to have to comfort Hope as well.
“Just think, we might be gifted with a new section in a few weeks.” Vianne brightens. “Uma and Carlton were whispering the other day-”
“Groaning you mean.”
“-they’ll be taking this one over. Maybe in two weeks.”
It should make her happy. Campus patrols have been the bane of her last year on the job and the thought of moving further out into the city does inspire a new appreciation for her job again. She can start to move on and get her life back on track. Except she’s grown attached to this life, this routine, and what it’s brought to her.
“You gonna be ready for dealing with more than just rowdy college kids?” Hope tucks her sunglasses into her collar.
Vianne smirks. “Please, I’ve been waiting for this to happen since I got assigned to you.”
“To get shot?” Hope jokes. The statistics are on her side for that.
Vianne shoves her. “To have your back.” She senses an oddness. “And I trust you. There’s no one I’d rather be with.”
Hope smiles out of the window. “Not even Christenne?”
“
I love our captain but-” Vianne’s amusement is cut off by a 8-bit ringtone piercing the inside of the car. It takes a moment for Hope to realize it’s not playing from the radio but coming from her phone.
“Who is it? Is it Janice?” Vianne is on the ball before Hope can even focus on the fact that Janice’s name is flashing on her caller ID. “Answer it.”
Hope swipes the green answer button and presses the phone to her ear with urgency and nerves. She’s been a wreck, a quiet wreck, trying to call Janice and figure out how to fix this mess. Fucking Henri. “Janice?”
But it’s not.
“Hi, Hope? This is Laurel. I’m a friend of Janice’s.”
Panic always follows when calls don’t go the way they’re supposed to. This is how she’s been drilled to deal with things. Headfirst and strong. She’s meant to fix this. “Is something wrong with Janice?”
Vianne looks concerned as they pull up outside of one of the University campus buildings. There’s a large courtyard by the road that students are spilling out onto. King’s is just across the other side of it.
Janice’s friend has a warm voice but her nerves aren’t discarded. “Janice is fine. She’s asked me to call.”
Hope waits for the eventual ‘stop harassing my friend, she never wants to see you again’ order to come but Laurel surprises her again. Good faith pours from her mouth. Janice is obviously upset. She’s hurting and Hope calling her multiple times of day isn’t helping her well being at the moment.
“She understands that you want to talk to her because of how things were left.” Hope freezes up at the thought of Janice breaking the story to all of her friends. She really doesn’t need any of them confronting her on Janice’s behalf. Though the good character of Laurel is keeping her optimistic that she won’t wake up to one of her windows broken in. “But she’s not ready to talk to yet, and she would appreciate it if you waited, or could wait until she feels like she can face you.”
Hope rubs her eyes to block out Vianne’s sympathetic expression. “Is she there with you?”
A short pause. “Yes.”
“Could you please pass on a message for me?”
Laurel doesn’t need a second to ask Janice, in her best interests of pleasing both parties she asks what Hope wants her to say.