The Way Back to Us

by Jamie Howard

  Bonnie stared at me like I was in the process of growing a third eye in the middle of my forehead. “I think you can handle this one, Dani. I’m gonna . . .” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder.

  Dani’s tongue darted out, taking a sweep of her lower lip. And I could not have hated myself more for the way my gaze tracked it from left to right.

  “Bottled or tap?”

  “What?” The words made absolutely no sense to me. That after all this time that’s the first thing she’d say to me.

  One eyebrow lifted. “I said, ‘bottled or tap?’”

  My fingers tightened around the edge of the bar. “Bottled.”

  “Hold on a second,” Ben chimed in, narrowing his eyes at us. His finger wagged back and forth while one of his rare smiles teased at his mouth. “Do you two know each other?”

  Dani seemed to pause, like she was waiting for me to deny it, but in the end neither of us answered him.

  As if to counteract my death grip on the bar, she drummed hers casually against it. “Sparkling or flat?”

  “Flat.”

  “You do, don’t you?” Ben’s chest shook with silent laughter. “I’d like to remind you that technically, technically, I’m not breaking the rules—”

  “We don’t,” I said, my voice flat. “She’s no one.”

  Dani turned around, water bottle in hand and set it in front of me. Her crystal clear blue eyes met mine and without an ounce of emotion she said, “That’ll be six dollars.”

  Chapter 3: Gavin

  Three fucking hours. That’s how long I made myself sit there, pretending like my eyes weren’t following Dani’s every move, like I wasn’t drinking in the husky sound of her laughter or the way the tip of her nose crinkled when she smiled. I used my water bottle like a stress ball, the plastic crinkled and dented from how many times I’d squeezed the hell out of it.

  What was she doing here?

  I couldn’t stop thinking it. The words wouldn’t stop circling around my head. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? I could buy that we’d both end up in the city. It was a big place. But the gala and now this, her working at The Blackbird? My place? That far surpassed a minor coincidence, which left me with two options: intent or fate. And with the way Dani had reacted, or hadn’t reacted to seeing me, and the way she wasn’t even looking at me, let alone talking to me, intent didn’t seem like the most reasonable conclusion. What point would there be to searching me out only to ignore me?

  Then again, I didn’t believe in fate. Not anymore.

  I spun my water bottle cap on the bar top, watching it wobble until it saucered and came to a rest. I was done torturing myself inside my own head. “Heard anything from Rachel?”

  Ben’s gaze flicked from his phone, to me, and back. “Ian said the job’s going well, Cali is wonderful, and there’s a very distinct possibility the company might offer her a permanent position.”

  Ah. The lightbulb went on inside my head. The cause of Ben’s most recent Rachel distress was that she might relocate to the opposite coast. News that he didn’t even hear from her firsthand. I guess pining for someone was a bit more difficult to do with several thousand miles between you.

  I shrugged, my hand involuntarily tightening around my water bottle as Dani moved into my periphery. The bottom edge of her shirt drifted up as she reached for a bottle of something or other on the top shelf. “It wouldn’t be the first time some company or another offered her a permanent home. Everybody’s trying to pin her down, and yet she’s never agreed to any of them.”

  Rachel did something with computers and security and hacking. I wasn’t entirely sure what all the details were but it essentially involved her making buttloads of money while she pointed out to companies their cyber vulnerabilities and gave them solutions for how to fix them. She was pretty badass.

  “One day she’s going to.” The screen on his phone went dark and he lifted a hand to run it over his close cropped hair. “This could be it. You know how much she loves Cali.”

  That I did. She’d fallen in love with it during college, but for some reason had headed back home after graduation. If you’d given me one guess and the risk that if I’d guessed wrong I’d lose one of my nuts, I’d still posit that the reason she didn’t stay in the place she loved was for the person she loved more—Ben.

  “You, uh,”—I coughed lightly into my fist—“ever think of giving her a reason to stay?”

  He shook his head slightly, the muscle in his cheek bunching. “Every damn day.” With a disgusted look at his drink—or perhaps it was just the universe he was fed up with and his drink that happened to get the brunt of his stare—he tossed a handful of bills on the scarred wood and left without another word.

  I blew out a breath. One day that guy was going to get his shit together and figure out that what he was missing out on was more important than whatever hang-ups were keeping him away. It was still debatable whether that revelation would occur before Rachel had given up and moved on.

  It took me a second to realize that with Ben leaving, it gave me a perfectly viable excuse to do the same myself. My chest lightened as the reality of my impending escape dawned on me, right up until the second Dani stopped directly in front of me to collect Ben’s payment. Then it was right back to having a freaking cement truck parked on top of it.

  With her gaze still focused on the crisply folded bills she asked, “You alright? Anything else you need?”

  Anything else I need? Fuck yes. I needed to know why she was here. I needed to know why, after all these years, she waltzed right back into the middle of my life. I needed to know why she left in the first place.

  I must have been silent for too long, which made her look up at me. The eye contact was the worst, because when she looked at me, really looked at me, it was exactly like the lie I’d given Ben—like I was absolutely no one to her. Except this time I was so disarmed by her question, so agonized by the answers I wanted but would never get, that I forgot to hide it from my face.

  And there it was. The tiniest flicker of emotion on her face, the smallest flare of her own internal struggle that she was clearly fighting. “Gav . . .” Her hand lifted, aiming for mine.

  My hand couldn’t retreat fast enough, finding my lap in record time. “Don’t.” I was too wrecked at that moment to let her touch me without letting it break me.

  Her face shuttered, going blank. She closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “I didn’t—”

  My phone started ringing, obnoxiously blaring out “Thong Song” by Sisqo. Probably not the most appropriate ringtone for your youngest sister to pick out for herself, but she was apparently worried about my image.

  And so it was that a song asking women to show me their thongs interrupted what was quickly shaping up to be the most incredibly awkward and painful conversation I’d had in a very long time. I couldn’t help the effortless smile that snuck across my face, and when Dani’s lips tipped up in the corner, an involuntary grin surprised out of her, I fucking ran.

  Her indifference hurt, but that smile, God it was so much worse. It was flashbacks to the best time of my life. Memories I’d tried so hard to forget. Pain I’d done almost anything to try to numb.

  My feet took me out the back entrance, sneakers hitting the asphalt. I swiped my thumb across my still-ringing screen. “Hey Daph, can you hold on a second?”

  “One second, but definitely no more than seven.”

  “Great, thanks for being so patient.” I set my phone on the lid of the Dumpster, and then very methodically, punched the very hard, slightly damp, brick wall next to it. “Motherfucker!” I shook out my hand. The pain was immediate, like white lightning streaking from my fist all the way up my forearm. It completely overloaded my brain, making it impossible to think of anything else. Finally.

  I grabbed my cell with my other hand and pinched it between my cheek and shoulder. “Sorry about that.” With my good hand, I felt over my cracked and bleeding knuckles. They were bruised but did
n’t feel broken. Not that it really mattered. I could easily hold a microphone with either hand.

  “Should I ask?”

  I snorted. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “So, it’s a girl problem.” She hmmed under her breath. “You know, I’m a girl. I could help.”

  Even though she couldn’t see me I rolled my eyes. “Was there something you needed?”

  “No.” Something squeaked on her end, like perhaps she’d dramatically flopped onto her bed. At eighteen, practically everything Daphne did was dramatic. “I’m just bored.”

  “Shouldn’t you be out, umm, hanging with friends or something? Going to a party?”

  “Is that the recommendation from my older, wiser brother? Go party?”

  My hand was still stinging so I shook it again. “Of course not. Stay home, study, and if you’re feeling particularly ambitious read the Bible.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “We don’t even own a Bible.”

  “Don’t tell Mom, she’s highly convinced we’re all devout Catholics.”

  “Only on Christmas and Easter.” She sighed. “Lilah asked me to ask you to call her.”

  “Funny, I’ve got a couple messages from her asking the same exact thing.”

  “And you still need to convince Mom that me staying with Darlene over the summer is a good idea.”

  Somehow, having four sisters was like having a never-ending list of favors that needed to be done. Not that I ever complained, life would be bland without them. “Anything V needs while I’m at it?”

  “Not at the moment, but, to be fair, she’s probably hiking up the side of some mountain or another and doesn’t have any way to get in touch at the moment. Hold on.” The speaker fuzzed out static. “I’ve got another call, gotta run. Don’t forget to talk to Mom!”

  I shook my head at the now silent phone and slipped it into my pocket. I’d only taken two steps toward the street when the sound of a can careening across the alley caught my attention. I turned, squinting through the shadows, half-prepared to find a rat or rabid raccoon trailing me. Something black and furry wiggled out from underneath the Dumpster, weighed down by the sheer enormity of its ears.

  I dropped down to my knees. “Well, what the hell are you?”

  Chapter 4: Dani

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  The heavy industrial door to my apartment slid closed behind me with a raspy growl. I slid down the length of it, the rough metal cold against my skin. My head landed in my hands, knees tucked tight to my chest. I still couldn’t get a grip on the fact that Gavin had actually shown up. That some tidbit in a gossip rag had actually been accurate.

  Breathe.

  My heart raced a marathon in my chest, the same as it had for the past several hours. And it wasn’t because I’d just trekked through a terrible neighborhood in the wee hours of the morning. It wasn’t because I’d spied my shady neighbor across the hall dealing in his apartment. It was Gavin.

  I’d thought that after all this time, all these years, it wouldn’t be the same. But it was. Every part of me remembered. Even the part I’d tried my hardest to convince to forget—my heart.

  “Fuck.” I pushed back to my feet and tossed my purse on what served as the kitchen counter. It wasn’t much more than a small square next to an even smaller sink that was the main feature of my kitchen/bathroom. But it was cheap, the landlord took cash, and it was unlikely that anyone would come looking for me here. Not unless they were really looking, and if they were that was another problem entirely.

  It was the first time I’d been back to the city in over two decades. I’d been five when we ran, leaving behind everything, everyone. I shouldn’t have felt any attachment to this place. But there was something about the smell in the air, the feel of it on my skin, that felt like coming home. Then again, maybe it wasn’t the place that made me feel grounded, but the person I’d spent my entire adult life trying to forget.

  I eyed the refrigerator, pulled it open, looked through its meager contents, and then shut it again. I should probably eat something, but my stomach was twisted in so many knots I doubted I’d be able to get anything down.

  He’d been right there. Inches away. But when I’d dropped my guard, acted on instinct rather than the indifference I’d spent years guarding my heart with, he’d jerked away from me so hard he’d nearly fallen off his stool. It didn’t just feel like a slap in the face, it was my heart being completely obliterated. Again.

  I wanted to run. Put hours and states between us, but I’d settle for a few hard earned miles, the wind in my hair, the ground pounding against my sneakers, my lungs burning. It wasn’t the only thing I wanted, but it was the only thing I even let myself consider. That was the problem with Gavin. He made me want things I could never have.

  With a sigh, I kicked off my shoes and traded my work clothes for an old, worn T-shirt that was several sizes too big. A part of me knew I was pathetic for still hanging on to this shirt of his, but tonight I couldn’t convince myself to care. The scuffed wood floor was cold beneath my feet as I crossed the room to the futon. Stooping down in front of it, I rustled through my duffel bag for my sketchbook and a pencil. My fingers itched for my micron pens, even my colored pencils, but I’d left them behind in Chicago.

  Somewhere in the distance a police siren screamed, the sound of it sneaking through the dirty, multi-paned window that decorated one end of my apartment. The mattress squealed as I sat down on it, crossing my legs beneath me and balancing my sketchbook on my knee. My pencil scratched across the paper, translating the image from my memory into real life—the smooth curve of a strong chin, a nose a touch too long and a tad crooked. I stumbled when it came to his eyes, the memory of warm, laughing ones colliding with the harsh, empty glance I’d encountered tonight.

  He wasn’t the same person anymore. It was like someone had drawn him in thick, jagged lines. All blunt angles and sharp edges. Time changed everyone, but in this case I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that I’d changed him. Stolen the light from his eyes. Made him bitter and jaded like me.

  A tear splatted on the corner of the page, followed by another, and another. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let myself fall apart. Not again. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to put myself back together.

  I slammed the notebook closed and shoved it back underneath the futon, the spiral ring scraping harshly against the floor. With the heel of my hand I wiped away any trace of wetness from my cheeks, not even caring when it came away tainted black from where my mascara had run.

  Breathe.

  I sucked in an unsteady breath and blew it out through my mouth.

  I did it again and again and again until every last drop of loneliness, regret, and longing had been drained out of me. I did it until my toes were rigid and my fingers were stiff. I did it until I’d convinced my heart to put back on its armor and hide behind the walls I’d built around it.

  So, when my phone beeped with an incoming text message from an unknown number, I was completely back to the Dani I needed to be as I read it: Great day today. I’m not hot or frigid. Rain could sweep @ 2, but only under his roof. Pick your hat wisely.

  Chapter 5: Gavin

  “Is that a . . . dog?” Jules frowned at my furry friend and ran a hand over her hair. The long blond strands were tied back in a messy bun, but despite the early hour and the haste with which she responded to my text she looked anything but messy. Even with a simple T-shirt on declaring I’m wearing my sassy pants.

  “He has a name, you know.” I gave him a scratch behind the ears and put the brakes on my shopping cart until she could catch up with me. “Say hello to Elvis.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “He’s not a hound dog.”

  “Ha.” God only knew what he really was, though hound dog likely wasn’t it. A mix of brown curly fur, light blue eyes, oversized ears, and a Schnauzer-style mustache made up my new K9 BFF. I made a right down the next aisle, cart wheels thudding rhythmically over the grooves in the floor.
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  “Not that I mind the SOS, though I’ve gotta tell you Felix gave me a bit of side-eye about it, but I’m kind of missing the emergency.” She gestured around the pet store and to the growing pile of supplies already in my cart. “You seem to have this pretty well in hand.”

  “Oh, this? This is not the SOS.”

  We both ducked a little as another customer breezed by us, glancing anywhere but at them. I never really minded posing for a selfie or scribbling a signature for a fan, but right now I could use a few moments of peace to get my thoughts together. Between Elvis’s three baths last night to get rid of the dirt matted in his fur, subsequently cleaning the bathroom of that wet mess, and taking him out for frequent pee breaks, I’d gotten about zero sleep last night. Not that my mind would’ve really let me anyway. The Dani of the whole situation was making my brain feel permanently hung over.

  Her eyes narrowed as her gaze swept over me. “Hair emergency?”

  My hand immediately drifted to my messy locks. I was about a month overdue for a haircut, but I’d been enjoying the tousled look. “You wish you could pull off this effortless bedhead style.”

  “Totally.” Absentmindedly, she gave Elvis a scratch under his chin, and I swear the little fool smiled at her, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. “Is this about the cater waiter from the gala?”

  “Former cater waiter.” I shifted my shoulders, trying to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling that had settled on them. Dani wasn’t a subject I ever talked about. “Current bartender at The Blackbird.”

  She immediately stopped scratching. “That seems like a bit more than a coincidence.” Her hand curled against her leggings, tucking into a fist. “You think she’s stalking you?”

  “What? No.” Jules’s leap to the stalker angle wasn’t surprising given her recent encounter with her own, but luckily that wasn’t the issue here. I stopped, parking the cart between the dog food and kitty litter. “I’m just having a bit of a”—I waved my hand through the air, trying to find the right words—“hard time dealing with her reappearance.”