Second Chances (30 page)

Allison smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.  You’re like a classic piece of art.”

“So now you’re calling me fat?”

Reagan shook her head as if to rattle her brain.  “How did you just turn my compliment into me calling you fat?”

“I’ve seen the women in those classic art pieces,” Allison said with an upturned nose. “Venus de Milo, Botticelli’s
The Birth of Venus
, Aphrodite of Cnidus – all those women were fat.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Reagan protested.  “They aren’t fat; they’re beautiful.  Also, they’re all the same woman – the Goddess of Love.”

Allison smirked. “Well I can believe the Goddess part, but that still doesn’t give you permission to call me fat.”

Reagan jumped on the bed and pounced on Allison.  Even though she knew Allison was teasing, she was still losing patience.  The two girls squealed and giggled as hands and fingers gripped sides and wiggled against the nooks and crevices of exposed body parts. 

They wrestled on the bed, rolling on top of each other, each trying to gain the upper hand.  Allison was taller and stronger though, and she successfully managed to pin Reagan beneath her.  She held Reagan’s hands above her head and pressed her wrists into the pillow.  Her pale skin was flushed and she was breathing a little heavy.  Blonde hair fell across her forehead; Reagan didn’t think she’d ever seen her look so pretty.

“Have you gotten in contact with Daria?”
  The question had been nagging at Reagan’s sanity from the moment Allison had arrived at her dorm Friday night.  Until that point, however, she’d been able to shove it from her mind and just focus on having fun and being a good hostess.

The teasing smile vanished from Allison’s face
.  Her hold loosened on Reagan’s wrists and she pulled away.  “Yes.  I emailed her.”

Reagan felt her stomach drop
.  “And?” She hoped her voice sounded normal.  She could hear Allison’s heavy sigh and could almost picture the annoyance on her face as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

“I told her I was going to be in New York this weekend, and she wants to meet up for coffee,” Allison said
.  “I’m not going to do it though,” she added before Reagan could interrupt with the predictable question.

“Why not?”

“Why not?” Allison echoed.  “Why would I?  I’m here to spend time with
you
, not Daria.  Besides, I don’t even know this girl.  I haven’t had contact with her in
years
.”

“You hadn’t had contact with me for years either,” Reagan pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s different,” Allison argued.  “We’d known each other all our lives.  I don’t know this girl at all.”

“But you could get to know her again.”

“Why is this so important to you?” Allison demanded shrilly.

“I just don’t think you should walk away from this opportunity,” Reagan explained, not backing down.

“Like I walked away from you?”  Allison shot back. 

Reagan teetered. “You said it yourself; we’re different.”

“If I can’t do a relationship with you, I can’t do it with Daria either.” Allison was getting annoyed.

“I never said you had to hop into bed with her, Allie,” Reagan scoffed.  “But y
ou should at least have coffee. You’re not the least bit curious?”

“No.” 

“You’re a terrible liar. It’s one of your better qualities.”

“Fine,” Allison huffed. 
She threw her hands up in frustration. “If it’s so important to you, I’ll have coffee with her.”  She paused, thoughtful.  “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Get me to do whatever you want.”

“Well, not
everything
,” Reagan said, pouting.

Allison gave her a warning look.

Reagan shrugged.  “I’ve got lots of practice with my dad,” she explained.  “Plus, you’re kind of a pushover.”

“I am not,” Allison denied.
“I just have good manners.  Manners are important.”

“You hardly felt the need to be polite in high school.”

“Well, you’re not as annoying anymore.”

Reagan laughed. “So when’s the big date?
  Call her right now.  Make it happen.”

“It’s not a date,” Allison scowled.  “It’s
just coffee.”  She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text message to see if Daria was free to meet.  They had exchanged phone numbers over email, but she had yet to call or text her.  She put her phone out of sight, half-hoping the text would go ignored.

"What are you going to wear?"

Allison shrugged. “Does it matter?”

"This cannot happen."

"What?"

Reagan looked suitably offended. "I did not go through all the work of tracking this girl down for you to blow her off."

"One, I hardly call messaging Daria on Facebook 'hard work,' and two, how am I blowing her off?"

"Allison Hoge doesn't do things half-assed,” Reagan said.  She rose from the bed and grabbed a jacket and her purse.  “You need a carefully planned outfit for this, not something you shoved in your suitcase as an afterthought. We're going shopping."

Allison raised an eyebrow. "Oh we are, are we?"

"And without Rodger Hoge’s credit card, too," Reagan added.

Allison looked amused. "I suppose it would be inappropriate to use his money for a date with a girl. Might serve the old bastard right though."

Reagan bristled. Hearing Allison call it a date stung more than she had expected.  It was okay for her to refer to it as such, but not Allison. "Kind of like when you used it to get me alone in a hotel room so you could take advantage of me."

Allison's jaw went lax. "I did no such thing."

Reagan shrugged it off. "I didn't say I minded."

+++++

The subway car rattled from side to side as it rushed down the track.

Allison tightened her grip on the metal pole and tried to keep from knocking into the other passengers.  She shouldered her bag a little tighter to her body.

"Are you nervous?" Reagan’s voice carried over the roar of the train.

Allison nodded and blew some errant strands of hair out of her face.  Her hair was starting to grow longer, but still not long enough to pull it back away from her face.  She needed to have it cut, but there never seemed to be time.  "A little. I still can't believe she wants to see me after all this time. I can't believe she even remembers who I am."

"You're Allison Hoge. You're kind of hard to forget."

Allison shook her head and looked out the subway window. There wasn't much to look at because they were underground. White tiles and an occasional streak of color rushed by.  She didn’t understand Reagan’s attitude. It felt like she was determined to throw Daria at her – like Reagan was already moving on and that Allison going out with someone else didn't bother her.  But other times, especially when she said things like that, she second-guessed Reagan's nonchalance about her reuniting with Daria.  Everything she had said that day seemed to have a double meaning.

"Have you two talked much since you first emailed her?"

"Not much, no.  End of the semester is always pretty busy though.  Finishing up my senior project. Graduation,” Allison ticked off.  “Figuring out what I’m going to do in the Fall.”

Reagan nodded and said no more. She wanted to press Allison with more questions about Daria, but she didn't want to come across as too nosy or jealous. She wondered what Allison would do or say when she saw Daria again after all these years.  Would they hug? Kiss? Shake hands?
 She wondered what they'd talk about. Normal catching-up topics she assumed, but she wondered how long it would take until the conversation inevitably turned to a recounting of their year of letters.

She wondered if Daria had kept Allison's letters. She wondered if she'd bring some to their date so they could re-read them together and bask in their good-fortune to have been reunited. Reagan shut her eyes tight.  She had to stop obsessing over this.  It wasn't healthy. She exhaled deeply, opened her eyes, and looked at the directional map. She knew where they were and how many stops remained until they reached their destination, but she needed something to look at that wasn't Allison.

When they reached their stop, Reagan reflexively reached for Allison’s hand to usher her off the train.  It felt so natural just to reach for her.  When their fingers touched, Allison looked away from her window and down at their hands.  Reagan pulled her hand back.

“This is our stop.”  

Allison nodded once and followed her off the train.

+++++

"Why aren't you more into this?"

Allison ran her hand over a stack of carefully folded sweaters.
  She picked up a shirt, but set it back down without really looking at it.  "I'm not really into clothes shopping."

Reagan held up a shirt for inspection. "Are you sure you have X-chromosomes?"

Allison pulled a pencil skirt from a rack and held it up to her waist.  "It was nice in high school when I didn't have to pick out outfits everyday,” she said. “I miss that cheerleading uniform sometimes.  I never had to worry about what to wear to school."

"I miss your cheerleading outfit, too." She hadn't seen Allison in a short skirt since her cheerleading days. Legs and an ass like that should never hide behind clothes, but she would have preferred if Allison wore snow pants when she met up with Daria later.

Allison's lips twisted into a wry smirk.  She pulled a dress from a rack and held it in front of her. ˝I guess I’ll go try some things on.”

Reagan nodded distractedly. She flipped through a rack of short skirts as Allison walked toward the fitting rooms.  She would have invited herself along to watch Allison strip in and out of each outfit, but with
her dressing for the purpose of going out on a date with someone else, it felt inappropriate.  She shook her head. 
Date.
That word really upset her. She and Allison had never gone on a date. They'd spent plenty of time together, but Allison had never called them dates.  They'd had sex, but they'd never gone on a date.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Reagan looked up from the clothes rack. Allison had reappeared from the fitting rooms in record time. "I'm fine."

Allison cocked her head to the side. "Rea, are you crying?"

Reagan inhaled through her nose and it rattled. "Crying?” She wiped at her eyes. “What?  No.  Just allergies or something."

"Oh. Okay." Allison looked unconvinced, but she didn't press the issue. "What do you think of this outfit?  I think I like the skirt, but I’m not sure."

Reagan wiped at her eyes again. "Turn around for me."

Allison twirled and the knee-length skirt attractively billowed. 

"I like it to,” Reagan confirmed.  “Where are you meeting Daria?"

"Some coffee shop in Manhattan,” Allison said, shrugging. “It's not a big deal."

Reagan pressed her lips together to keep from saying or asking more.  She felt petty and jealous, and she hated it. She knew it was her own fault for tracking down this girl. It had been her idea, not Allison's. But she couldn't help the way she felt.

Allison ran her palms down the front pleats of the bell-shaped skirt that she wore paired with a short-sleeved cardigan, blouse, and skinny belt.  She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard, but she didn't want to look too casual either.  Reagan was right about her – Allison Hoge didn’t do anything half-assed.  "How do I look?"

Reagan couldn't hold back her honest appraisal. "Enchanting."

Allison ducked her head. "Thanks.
If you like this outfit, I should probably pay for it and go.  I’m supposed to meet up with Daria soon.”

Reagan nodded
numbly. “Right.  Don’t want to make her wait.”

After paying for her purchases, Allison hesitated
by the shop door.  “Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving?”  She was planning on leaving straight from the store to meet up with Daria for coffee.  She wore the new outfit she’d purchased and her old clothes were in the shopping bag.

“Yeah.  Don’t worry about me; I’ll be fine.  I’m just going to head back to campus.”

Allison smiled mildly.  “Thank you again for everything, Rea.”  She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them against Reagan’s lips. “I’ll call you afterwards.”

Reagan watched Allison walk out of the boutique and into the sun. 
The door had just barely closed behind her, signaling Allison’s departure, when hot tears began to roll down her cheeks.

+++++

Ashley bounded into the room and tossed her backpack on her bed.  “Heya, Prez.  What’s up?”

Reagan lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.  “Hey,” she replied back, her voice devoid of emotion.