Second Chances (11 page)

“If you wanted to apologize, you could have just left me a voice mail like a sane person,” Reagan said, her tone exhibiting her annoyance. “Or you could have written me an email.”

“And if you wanted to ignore me forever, why are you web-chatting me?” Allison countered.

“I never said I wanted to ignore you forever.”

Allison sighed. “You didn’t call me after Spring Break.”

“Neither did you,” Reagan pointed out. “And
I’m
not the one who messed up.”

“Do you have to be so dramatic all the time?” Allison felt increasingly agitated by Reagan’s newfound backbone.  She knew she was in the wrong and that Reagan was going to make things difficult for her.  But beyond apologizing repeatedly, she didn’t know what else she could do to make things right. “Why didn’t you just pick up the phone when I called?”

“Self-preservation.  In my experience, you have a harder time being mean if you can see my face,” Reagan snapped. “When I’m out of sight and you can’t see how much your actions hurt me is generally when you’re at your worst.” Her voice started to shake on the last few words.

Allison’s determination to be angry immediately crumbled at the show of emotion. “Reagan, I’m really sorry.  What I did to you was uncalled for and incredibly cruel.”

Reagan released a long, tired sigh and she ran her fingers through her hair.  She looked away at something off-screen. “Is it really
that
embarrassing to be seen in public with me?”

“No,”
Allison insisted.  “Of course not.”

“
You just can’t be seen with me in our hometown.”

Allison
hung her head. She’d been so busy once she’d gotten back to campus that she hadn’t let herself dwell on what she’d actually done to Reagan.  But now as she sat here with Reagan refusing to look at her and her voice coming through her laptop speakers, the full weight of her cruelty sank in.  She was disappointed in herself. Even High-School-Allison was disappointed by her actions.  “I know I’m a coward,” she choked out.  “And I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t going to work.” 
Reagan continued looking away, and it drove Allison crazy.  Reagan always maintained perfect eye contact.

“What isn’t?”

“A friendship.” Reagan turned back to the computer screen.  Her eyes flashed with anger.  “I’m not going to let you make me feel like it’s high school all over again.”

“Please,
Reagan.  I’m
trying
.” Allison couldn’t deny the desperation in her voice. “I overestimated myself.  I thought I was ready to be a better person – a
different
person than who I used to be.  But Carly and Beth and Vanessa blindsided me.  I wasn’t ready for that kind of confrontation.”

Reagan
looked curiously at the woman pictured on her computer screen.  She hardly resembled the confident, self-assured bully of years ago.  “You know, you were horrible to a lot of people in high school. Why is
my
friendship so important to you?”

Allison
twisted the silver band she wore on her right ring finger and looked uncharacteristically fidgety. “I’ve asked myself that same question.” She spoke so softly that Reagan had to lean forward to hear her. “And I don’t know. But it is.”

Reagan
bit her lower lip.  She wanted this friendship.  She’d wanted it every day of their entire high school career.  But not if it was going to hurt like this.  “I’m sorry,” she said thickly. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

“One more chance.
  Please, Rea.”

The use of the familiar nickname both tugged at Reagan’s heart and made her equally furious.  She couldn’t tell if Allison had purposely used it to manipulate her feelings or if it was a throwback from their middle-school friendship.

“Let me visit again,” Allison pressed. “This weekend.  I want to be a better person.”

Despite her misgivings, Reagan felt her resolve faltering.  “Maybe.”

“Really?” Allison’s eyes brightened, and she looked hopeful.

Reagan
continued to frown. “I’m serious. You make me feel insignificant one more time, Allison, and I’m done.”

Allison
’s face immediately grew somber. “I understand.”

“
Are you serious about wanting to visit this weekend?”

“If you’re free,” Allison said with an eager nod. “I don’t want it to be an inconvenience.”

In truth, Reagan had no plans.  Most weekends, in fact, she had no plans.  But Allison didn’t need to know that.  She looked down at her nails, not trusting herself to continue making eye contact. “I guess I could rearrange my schedule.”

+++++

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Reagan
stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to see above the crowds milling around Grand Central Station. The extra inches did her no good. She was still too short to see over the other heads. Her stomach felt uneasy. She knew she should have insisted on a more specific meeting place. But Allison had told her not to worry. She'd insisted they'd find each other outside of the busy terminal and that she'd text if delayed.

Reagan
glanced at the time on her phone. 7:17pm. The electronic signs around the station all indicated that Allison's train had arrived 15 minutes ago, yet she was nowhere in sight.

T
he last time they'd seen each other, not counting their disembodied faces over Skype, Allison had ditched her to hang out with her high school friends. Reagan felt justified in worrying that she'd been abandoned again. She also knew that she only had to dial Allison's number and she'd be able to track her down. But Reagan Murphy was stubborn, and she wasn't going to call first when Allison could just as easily do the same.

She was still unsure about agreeing to see
Allison that weekend. She wasn't convinced they could get past their high school differences.
"One more chance,"
she told herself.
"I'll give her one more chance to prove she's changed."
She felt a little better now that she'd set some personal perimeters. Now all she had to do was find Allison in this sea of people.

"Hey, Murphy."

Reagan spun on her heels at the sound of the familiar voice. "You made it!"

Despite having just crossed the borders of several states,
Allison looked fresh-faced and glowing. The sun was getting ready to set and the red-orange rays played against her pale hair and equally pale features. Reagan, with her naturally darker skin tone, need only stand in direct sunlight for a few hours before turning a full shade tanner. She wondered if Allison spent any time outside or if she was too busy with school to do so. She hated the thought that she might be caged inside a library, her bedroom, or even a coffee shop while the world outside continued on without her.

"Yes. I somehow managed to board the right train and get off at the right sto
p," Allison deadpanned with a quick roll of her eyes. "Go me."

Reagan
shook her head. "I just meant you found me. I was worried we wouldn't be able to find each other without a designated meeting location."

"I guess it's a good thing you
wore that orange trench coat."

Reagan
looked down at her jacket. "Huh. I didn't notice I did that."

"I can't even imagine what your closet must look like if that color orange didn't make an impression,"
Allison chuckled, not unkindly. "Did you kill a family of clowns and steal their wardrobe?"

Reagan
momentarily bristled. Comments about her clothes reminded her too much of high school. But then Allison was hugging her, and she couldn't remember why she was angry anymore. Reagan closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the moment.
Allison
had initiated the hug. Allison Hoge was hugging
her
.

+++++

"And this," Reagan announced, turning the key in her lock, "is my dorm room."

She stepped to the side and let Allison go in first. Allison was momentarily taken aback when she saw another girl in the room.
"You should really knock when the door is locked, Prez,” the girl said. “You never know what you might walk in on."

Reagan made a face. "And that's my roommate, Ashley."

"Hey," Ashley said in greeting. She returned her attention back to her laptop screen.

"Ash, this is my friend Allison. The one from Michigan who goes to Brown."

Ashley rolled her eyes and finally pulled herself up to a seated position. "As if there's any other Allison’s who I might get her confused with. You only told me about a hundred times this week that she was coming to stay."

Allison’s extensive etiquette training kicked in.
“Ashley, it’s nice to meet you.  Reagan’s told me a lot about you.”

“And it’s great to final meet the Great and Powerful Allison Hoge.  Reagan does nothing but talk about you.”

Allison quirked an eyebrow at Reagan who was busy looking everywhere except at her friend and her roommate.

Allison turned back to Ashley. “Thank you for letting me intrude on your space this
weekend,” she said graciously.

Ashley held up her hands. “No need to thank me.”

“Allison is constantly thanking people,” Reagan chirped. “It’s kind of her thing.”

Allison made a face. “There’s nothing wrong with having
manners,” she defended herself.

“Well
, Reagan’s had to suffer through enough of my old high school friends visiting,” Ashley noted. “I’m just happy she finally brought one of her Michigan people here.  I was starting to think I embarrassed her.”

Allison arched an eyebrow. “I’m
the first person to visit you?”

“I’ve had people visit. They just haven’t spent the night,
” Reagan grumbled. “I’m not a
complete
leper.”

Allison laughed lightly and bumped her hip against Reagan’s.  “I’m just teasing.  Maybe I like the idea that I’m the only one who’
s gotten to stay in your room.”

R
eagan raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Allison shrugged. “I don’t like to share,” she said simply.

Ashley watched the two women’s bantering with interest.  She hadn’t been exaggerating – Reagan
did
talk non-stop about Allison, and she was curious to see more. "Oh, before I forget, Prez, that boy keeps calling the room phone. Give him your cell number or I'm demanding a roommate change. I have a heart attack every time that damn phone rings."

Allison set her bag down on the floor. "
Boy
? Are you dating someone, Murphy? You keeping secrets from me?"

“It’s nothing.” Reagan waved a dismissive hand.
 "Just this guy I met who goes to CUNY.  We've gone out a few times, but it's nothing serious. Actually,” she said, looking thoughtful, “we met on the train when I came to visit you the first time."

"Oh. Well that's convenient.” Allison’s lips pressed together. “I expect an invite to your wedding since I’m the one responsible.”

"Do you guys have big plans for tonight?” Ashley asked, interrupting the banter.

Allison looked to Reagan for confirmation.  Reagan shrugged. They hadn’t really discussed what they might do over the weekend, and she hadn’t had the time to make elaborate plans during the week. Allison was surprised Reagan didn’t have an agenda, typed and laminated, for the weekend.  She tried to not be offended though; she hadn’t even taken the time to stock her refrigerator with vegan-friendly food when Reagan had visited.

“Not really,” Reagan said.

“You should come to the party down at the Delta house,” Ashley said. “The place is a total dive, ‘cause you know,
frat house
, but they always have a nice spread.  All the booze you could ask for. I could get you two on the list.”

“Is that something you’d be into?” Allison asked Reagan.

She shrugged.  “Maybe.”

“It’s your city, Murphy. I’m just visiting.”

“But you’re the one visiting,” Reagan pointed out. “We should do what
you
want to do.”

“You mean like go ice skating and end up in the Emergency Room?” Allison teased.

Reagan stomped her foot a little and huffed. “You said that wasn’t my fault.”

Ashley watched the two go back and forth like an animated ping-pong match. “
Today,
ladies,” she taunted. “I’ve gotta call a guy to get you on the list in time.  They hate reprinting that crap.  Saving the Earth one piece of paper at a time or something equally lame.”

“Yes,” Allison supplied for them. “We’d love to come.  Thank you, Ashley, for the invitation.”

The other girl waved it off and grabbed her phone grumbling something about Midwesterners being too polite.

"Are you sure?" Reagan asked uncertainly.
  She lowered her voice while her roommate was on the phone. "We could find something else to do."

Allison smiled placidly. "I'm not a total snob. I do know how to hang out with the unwashed masses."

"Are you sure? We could find something else to do tonight. It is the greatest city in the world."

"I'm sure. Let's go to this party.
” Allison nudged her. “It might actually be fun.”

Reagan looked a little bashful. "I know it's not a big deal to you, but it's not like I went to the popular parties in high school. My 16-year-old self would be really psyched to be going to a college frat party."

Allison smiled fondly at the sheepish girl. "Then for the sake of 16-year-old-Reagan, let’s go."

+++++

The air was thick and humid, slightly perfumed with the stench of cigarettes, cologne, and body odor.  Couples danced in the front dining room area.  It looked more like dry humping to Allison’s critical eye.  Although the music was upbeat and the bass rattled the front windows, couples danced to their own tempo.  Clusters of girls danced in tight circles while co-ed men hung back on the perimeter, bobbing their heads to the beat, not quite drunk enough to actually dance.

Away from the designated dance floor,
Reagan and Allison stood in the kitchen of the local fraternity house.  The room was crowded, particularly around the keg, but where they had congregated was relatively open.  Upon arriving and ditching their jackets on the bed of an open second-floor bedroom where Ashley insisted they’d be safe, Reagan’s roommate had immediately pulled them to the kitchen. Boys with red plastic cups in their hands cheered her on as she shot-gunned a beer with gusto.

Reagan felt a light touch at her elbow. “Is she always like this?” Allison murmured in her ear.

“She works hard and plays hard, too.” Reagan felt the need to defend her long-time roommate.

Allison knew she could have a very critical and judgmental personality
, especially when she felt threatened and uncomfortable.  She couldn’t pinpoint what was bringing out this side of her, but she brushed it off as being at a fraternity party in an unfamiliar city.  She herself rarely went to these kinds of activities at Brown.  It was too much like her high school experience and she kept telling herself that wasn’t who she was anymore.

“Do you go drinking with her often?
” Allison leaned in to make sure Reagan could hear her.

Reagan shook her head.  She wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself and looking un
easy.  “I’ve been to a few parties with her, but I’m usually doing homework on the weekends, not binge drinking.”

“You guys are
falling behind,” Ashley hollered over the loud music. She grabbed a bottle of unrecognizable alcohol and began setting up shots on the kitchen island. She handed one of the tiny plastic cups to Reagan and one to Allison and chugged down one for herself.

Allison looked down at her shot glass’s contents and grimaced. 
Why are there gold flecks in my drink
? she silently lamented.  She quickly downed her shot, not wanting to appear inexperienced in front of either Ashley or Reagan.  She sputtered slightly, half choking on the seemingly toxic alcoholic concoction.

Ashley handed Reagan a second shot, this time of something clear.  “Bottoms up, Prez!” she hooted.

Allison put her hand on Reagan’s wrist, stopping her as she brought the tiny cup to her lips.  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she cautioned.

Reagan smiled.  “I’ve got this,” she
said.  “This isn’t my first rodeo.”  She promptly slammed down the drink.  She coughed just a little as the burning liquid hit the back of her throat.  Her blue eyes were bright and wide.

Ashley cheered on her roommate and grabbed a vodka bottle off the counter.  “Now the party’s started!”
She gave Allison a triumphant smile. 

Allison narrowed her eyes
in return.  She couldn’t understand Ashley’s angle.  Was she
trying
to make Reagan sick?  Were they
competing
for Reagan’s attention? Was she actually
threatened
by this girl and her close relationship with Reagan?

Reagan slammed back a third shot before Allison
could stop her. She didn’t want to act Mom-ish, but she also had no intention of babysitting a drunk Reagan Murphy the rest of the night.  “Do you want to dance?”

Reagan flashed a dimpled smile and nodded.  She grabbed Allison’s hand to lead her toward the front of the house
.  They worked their way towards the dining room, weaving through the tightly packed mass of bodies.  Finally satisfied with a small pocket of space, Reagan turned around.  Allison suddenly found herself invading Reagan’s personal bubble.  Or maybe it was the other way around.