Unfinished (3 page)

Chapter Four

The following
day I avoided my Facebook.  I was dying to check it, but the not knowing felt
safer.  What if he hadn’t responded?  What if he had?  This whole thing was
making me more than a little crazy and I couldn’t figure it out. All of my cool
collected persona had gone out the window with his short little message.  It
was ridiculous.  I scolded myself for even giving it a thought. Still, all of
the scolding couldn’t keep me from actually succumbing to my curiosity and
opening the site to see.  I waited for it to load and realized I was holding my
breath.  I couldn’t help it. 

I felt the
smile tug at my lips as the notification appeared.  There he was.  My friend, Owen.
I clicked the message icon and waited as his words filled my screen.  I leaned
in, closer to the screen to read.

I’m so glad
that you accepted me, or remembered me for that matter. That would have been
embarrassing. How are you?  What has life brought your way since we last
spoke?  I need to know.  Me?  I’ve been working.  A lot. I live in Chicago. You’ve heard of it, it’s windy. I was thinking about you and now I’m glad that I
looked you up.

Huh.  He was
thinking about me.  Why did that make my stomach flip?  I mean, it’s not like
he meant anything by it.  Right? I sunk back into my chair and let the tension
that had built up in my shoulders relax.  This was such an odd situation.  I
read the email again and thought about my reply. It was all so superficial; details
of a stranger’s life in the name of catching up. I might as well be sending
them to someone I’d met off of the street. Only, it wasn’t a stranger off the
street.  It was Owen…underneath whatever he might have become over the years he
was still my Owen. I could spend way too much time analyzing it or second
guessing my words, but what was the point? 

I hit reply
and sent him over my own short message about how I worked in advertising and
was living in Nashville.  I asked him how his family was and if he liked Chicago.  It was mundane and expected. It covered all of the normal basis.  I ended it with
one line that I hoped would relay how I felt. 

I’m really
glad you looked me up too. I have always missed you.

I hit send
before I could convince myself to delete it.  I logged out immediately, so I
wouldn’t be tempted to check to see if he’d gotten it. I went back to work,
feeling a little lighter and secretly giddy about the whole situation. 

*****

The next
morning I was at my desk going over reports and figures for a client’s media
campaign.  I was engrossed in research and trying to nail down what it all
meant that I jumped when my computer dinged with an incoming chat message.  I
glanced up, assuming it was a message from Cassie, who often used it to send me
random comments or beg me to escape for coffee. 

I dropped the
pencil that was in between my teeth, however, when I glanced up and saw the
message that had popped up.  It was Owen.  I had the instinct to duck, like he
could see me somehow, staring at his words and the little blinking cursor that
begged me for my response.  Shit. He wanted to chat?  I didn’t want to chat. 
Did I? Ugh, I was such a basket case.

Owen:  Hi. 
Busy?  I thought I’d say hi.

Me:      Hey.
Not too bad. Just paperwork.  How are you? 

Why was my
heart beating so fast?  I sounded lame. How do you make small talk with a
stranger?  Worse, how do you make small talk with a stranger that knows you so
well?  Or used to.  

Owen: Good.  I
don’t want to bother you if you are busy. I just saw that you were online, so I
thought I’d take a chance.  I hope that’s okay.

Me:      Of
course it’s okay.  

Owen:  So what
are you doing today?

I smiled, took
a deep breath and settled into a conversation with my old best friend. 

That afternoon
at lunch I sat with Cassie at a local deli. I had just finished telling her
about my chat with Owen.  “So, you just chatted with him all morning?” she
asked. 

“Yeah, it was
pretty generic stuff.  But it was fun.  We kind of got caught up on what we
have been up to since we saw each other last.  It’s weird. It was just really
easy talking to him, which is kind of nice considering that we haven’t spoken
in nine plus years.”  I took a sip of my soda and waited for her questions. She
always had questions.

“Hmmm. Well,
that’s good.  I mean it’s nice that you were able to do it over a chat. 
Technology makes things so easy. How did you leave it?” she asked.

I shrugged. 
“We just kind of broke for lunch. I told him I had to head out and he said he’d
talk to me later when I got back.”

“Hmmm,” she
said again.

“What? What is
with all of the hmms and thoughtfulness?  What are you thinking?  Is this
weird?” I asked. 

“No.  It’s not
weird.  It’s kind of exciting.  Handsome Owen from the past showing up and
being all, let’s get to know each other is fun.  I mean, obviously I’ve never
met the guy, but I know how you felt about him. I was there when you got over
him the first time.  If I were you I’d be anxious to see where this goes.  Just
see it through. What’s it going to hurt to get to know him again?  It’ll be
nice to reconnect with an old friend.”

She was right
and I was excited about the possibility of getting to know him again.  I missed
our friendship.  Even now, it was one of the most honest and real ones that I’d
had.  That was hard to find.  I had never imagined that I’d be in a place where
one, I would have lost it to begin with and two, where I’d have to try and
rediscover it.  Maybe I was thinking too much about it.  Cassie was right. I
just needed to see what happened. I was putting way too much pressure on one
morning of random conversation.  I was getting ahead of myself.  I needed to
relax.

“Yeah.  You’re
right.  I’m thinking too much.  It’s just so random.  It brings back so many
memories and it makes me feel…” I left the sentence unfinished because I wasn’t
exactly sure what I was feeling.

“I know.”
Cassie gave me a reassuring smile.  “You guys were really close.  You always
said that things with Owen were easy. So let it be easy.  Don’t let any of the
weirdness of your ending take away from reconnecting now.  You’re both
different. See what happens.”

“This is why
you are my best friend.” I said.  She laughed.

“I am
awesome.  It can’t be helped.”

“Your modesty
is one of your best features,” I teased.

She gave me a
wink.  “I know.”

I thought
about Cassie’s advice. 
Let it be easy.
She was right. That is what made
me and Owen special.  We never had to think about what we were to each other. 
We just were.  It is what I missed most about him.  I just had to remember that
and stop letting my head get in the way.  I was letting past feelings muddle
the situation and make this whole thing more than it probably was.  I was
putting too much meaning on a few emails and a random conversation.  If I took
a moment to think about it I would see how ridiculous it actually was. 

Back in my
office, it wasn’t long before Owen showed back up on my chat screen.  And it
continued that way. Each day he would pop up and we would catch up.  It quickly
became my favorite part of the day. It often meant longer days because I’d get
caught up in conversation when I should have been working hard.  But the pull of
conversation was too much to ignore. Whether we were relaying college stories
or he was grilling me on my favorite things it was all just very…easy.

Chapter Five

Owen- Past

The thing
about Ally is she doesn’t see herself accurately.  She has no idea how funny
she is, or how beautiful.  She just doesn’t.  There is an innocence about her
and it’s so damn perfect that it leaves me in awe, but she just sees a plain
Jane.  She thinks her nose is too small, her laugh is too loud, and that no one
will ever really know her.  But she doesn’t see it.  I already know her.  I’ve
studied her and I see who she is when she thinks that no one is looking.

I smile at her
now, as she lies on her stomach, stretched out on the blanket we brought.  She
is wearing a sundress and cowboy boots and her feet are dancing in the air
above her.  She is so focused on her book that she hears nothing going on
around her. I strum my guitar and watch her as she works her bottom lip with
her teeth.  She does this when she is nervous or anxious and I wonder what the
words are that have her feeling that way. 

This is what
we do. This is our normal.  Ally has become my safe place.  I don’t have to be
on
when I am with her.  She just gets me.  We can sit here together in the same
space, completely silent, and just enjoy the company.  Sometimes, it’s just
like this…each of us lost in our own world, other times we talk for hours about
everything in the world.  She is my best friend, my closest confidant.  She
knows me better than anyone else.  I don’t keep walls up when it comes to her
and it just feels right.

She looks up
from her book and catches me watching her.  “What are you doing?” she asks
shielding her eyes from the sun.  I strum the guitar on my lap and look down at
my fingers.

“Trying to
figure out how in the world you read so much.” I wink at her and she laughs.

“It’s not so
bad.  You could learn a lot from these books,” she says arching an eyebrow at
me. 

“Oh yeah?  Are
you reading smut?” I ask feigning interest. She rolls her eyes at me.

“Might help
you out with the ladies,” she says standing up and walking over to the tailgate
where I am sitting.

“I don’t need
any help.  Pretty sure I could write my own steamy book,” I offer giving her my
best sexy stare.  She laughs at me.  This is why I adore her.  She wouldn’t
fall for my games even if I tried them on her.  Not that I would ever try and
work her over like one of the other girls.  Ally is different.  I’m very
protective of her.  She has a boyfriend, but I’m not all that fond of the guy. 
His name is Brendon.  Not Brandon, like a normal person.  No he has some sissy
prep school name…Brendon.  She likes him well enough, but he’s a douche.  He is
cocky and arrogant and thinks he’s hot shit.  Ironic I know…since I am also
known to be cocky and arrogant, but I’m not trying to get in her pants.  That’s
just it; I know I’m not good enough for her.  She deserves someone who can give
her the world.  I just have a broken home and a trunk full of issues to sort
out.  I don’t know how to be the good guy.  My dad ran off on our family when I
was 10.  Bad guy is just in my DNA.  At least I recognize it. I’m not trying to
pretend to be someone I’m not.

The truth is I
wish I were good enough.  I wish I had what it took to be with her, because she
is a prize.  Honestly, I’m just lucky to have her in my life at all. I know how
special she is, even if she doesn’t always see it.   

She shoves my
shoulder and sits on the tailgate beside me.  “I can’t believe you actually get
girls to fall for that crap,” she said.  She always gives me a hard time about
the girls I spend time with.  She doesn’t judge me, but she’s not afraid to
tell me that she thinks I waste my time on the wrong girls.  I tell her that
since I am having fun, it’s not a waste of time.  I think she thinks that I’ll
grow out of it all eventually.  But the way I see it, it’s just easier to keep
my encounters sans entanglements.  Commitment is not something I am interested
in.  It’s just too messy and complicated and it never ends well.  So, yeah, I
go with the no strings route.  It’s just easier.

“Come on, look
at me…they can’t resist,” I give her the smirk I know she hates and am rewarded
with an eye roll. 

“You really
are full of yourself,” she points out. 

“I know,” I
smile.  Her dark hair falls over her shoulder brushing across her gold skin and
I have to stop my thoughts from going places that they shouldn’t. 

“Are you
working on something new?” she asks.  I rarely play for anyone else but her.

“Yeah, just
something I’ve been playing with,” I said strumming a few chords. I play her a
little and she closes her eyes and smiles.  This is why I play for her, that
dreamy look she gets.  I don’t want to be a rock star; I play because it is a
way to clear my head.  My dad taught me how to play when I was young.  Before
he left. When he took off, I wanted to quit, but mom pushed me to keep it up
because she knew how much I loved it.  She would always say that I should keep
a connection with him, even if I was mad at him for leaving.  I have no idea
how she does that…forgives.  I don’t want to forgive him. I don’t want to be
like him.  But at the end of the day, I didn’t want him taking anything else
from me.  So I play, for me, and for Ally.

“I like it,”
she says when I’ve finished.

“Yeah?  Not
sure where it’s going, but I think I like it.”  I put the guitar down and
stretch my legs out in front of me. 

“You going out
with that guy of yours tonight?” I ask.  The sun is starting to sink into the
horizon.  We always stay for the sunset. It is important to her.  So, no matter
what, when we have the opportunity, we always wait on the sun. 

“Yeah.  He
wants to go to Scott’s party,” she says this with a slight scowl on her face.

“And you don’t
wanna go to Scott’s party?” I ask.

She shrugs. 
“I dunno.  He’s a douche.  I don’t like him. But I guess I don’t have to talk
to him.  Half the school will be there.  What about you?  Are you going?”

“Maybe.  I thought
about it. Maybe I’ll go and make sure Scott plays nice,” I offer. It’s stupid.
Granted, I was probably going to go anyway, but knowing that she’ll be there
makes the decision easier.  I wonder if I’ll even get to talk to her.  Brendon
isn’t really a big fan of mine.  Probably because I’ve gotten in his face a few
times. Ally doesn’t need to know that, but I don’t want him treating her bad. 
I don’t really think too much about my reasons.  I just know that Ally means
something. 

“Good.  We can
avoid Scott together,” she says. “Are you gonna bring, Sarah?”

I let out a
laugh that sounds more like a grunt.  “No.”

“I thought you
liked her,” she cocks her head to me like a confused puppy. 

“I like her
fine. But I don’t want her to get the wrong idea,” I shrug.

She puffs out
air in an exasperated way and I chuckle.  “Owen, when are you going to settle
down?  You gotta give one of these girls a shot at some point. Don’t you want
to be with someone?  I mean you know, that you can talk to or just hang out
with.  It’s nice to have someone,” she says. 

I smile at
her. “I do have someone.  I have you.” I mean it. She is pretty much my best
friend.  She knows me better than anyone else. 

“You know what
I mean.” I can tell she doesn’t have much fight left in her.  We’ve had this
discussion many times before. 

“Kat, you know
how I feel about relationships. It’s not that I don’t think they can work, I
just don’t know that I can make them work,” I say simply. 

She looks at
me seriously, “You aren’t your dad, Owen.”

I sigh.  “I
know.  But I could be.  And I don’t want to put anyone through that.” I think
about my mother and the nights that she cried herself to sleep when she thought
I couldn’t hear.  I think about how she has struggled to keep us afloat without
any help from him. 

“But, what
about later?  Won’t you want to get married or have a family?” She understands
how I feel, but she still wants to fix me.  I try to humor her most of the
time, but the truth is, I don’t see that future for myself.  I just don’t trust
myself.  I know it might be crazy to think that I’ll turn out like him just
because we share blood.  I know that I could fight against it, and maybe, with
the right girl, I would.  The trouble is, how do you test the theory on the
right
girl?  I think about Ally and how much I care about her.  She is the closest
thing to perfect that I’ve ever run into and the idea of betraying her and
causing her pain makes me sick.  So, no, I don’t know that I could ever even
try. 

“Maybe I’ll
just do one of those arranged things.  Or help some poor girl get her visa,” I
smile teasingly at her. 

She laughs a
little, “Whatever, Owen.”

We go quiet
and watch the sun make its final decent.  I hear her take a deep breath as she
takes it in.  I watch her from the corner of my eye, because I can’t help it. 
When the sun is gone I bump her shoulder with my own.  “Ready?” I ask.  She
just nods and jumps to the ground.