"Keep to yourself." The three words always echoed through her mind as she waited for the subway train to roll thunderously into the station. She heard them in the raspy, firm voice of the last foster mother she had lived with before moving to the big city.
She had been a single parent of two when she had brought Anna into her hectic existence. Life had shaped her foster mother into a paranoid, untrusting person. Small town Iowa had suited her, and it kept the fear that lurked deep inside of her relatively quiet. From her, Anna learned what independence and sacrifice meant. Try as she might to pass along her distrust and paranoia to Anna, she managed to observe it from a distance and watch silently as it slowly destroyed her foster mother's sanity and countless opportunities. It was how Anna learned to live—watch, learn, take note.
Being an orphan had made her observant to a fault. Whether she was at school or working or walking down the street or waiting in line for coffee, she scrutinized what people did and let their actions and behaviors linger in her mind for careful consideration—often leaving her yearning for what she didn't have, or content knowing her life was simple.
It wasn't enough to just stand quietly and wait for the train with her headphones plugged firmly into her ears. Everyone that lingered around her was an unknowing victim of her silent, intensive observation. There was a woman sitting on the bench to her right, eating a greasy burger while slurping from an enormously sized soda. Maybe she could've opted for a healthier option. Maybe she was craving it. Maybe it had been a day, and it was what she needed. It was none of Anna's business, but she couldn't help but wonder.
Shifting her eyes to the left, there were numerous people with their heads down, eyes glued to phone screens that illuminated their expressionless faces. Didn't they spend enough time at work staring at a screen? Did they ever unplug themselves? They were tuned out to everything around them. They didn't see her, standing and looking at them with her hands tucked deep into pockets of her bulky winter coat. They didn't see the woman with the burger, they didn't see the man standing to her left whose dress pants were so tight they left nothing to the imagination.
An all too familiar sigh pushed past her lips as all the observations and questions left her feeling nothing but more discontent. Her own eyes and temples throbbed due to the absurd amount of time she spent glued to a computer screen every day, and the time she spent at work varied drastically between being distressingly busy and utterly bored. It created a rift somewhere inside of her, somewhere like where her soul might be.
Praise was nonexistent, and she wanted nothing more than to leave the second she walked through the office doors. She treasured her time waiting for the train in the morning and at night. She liked watching people who were completely unaware of her critical eyes. It made her feel weirdly calm when she was really just being a giant, intrusive asshole. That fact has never stopped her, though. The habit was too ingrained and the consequences were nonexistent.
She was about to throw a quick glance over her shoulder to see who else was waiting for the train when the familiar rumbling of the ground started traveling up her feet and into her knees. Letting out a deep sigh, she smiled a little as the rumbling grew more intense.
The approaching train meant she was that much closer to being home. Home meant spending time with her roommate, and said roommate's attention whore of a cat. It meant having a meal they would cook together while talking over the background noise of the TV. Most importantly, it meant starting to plan her solo routine for the upcoming dance production. Since the moment she sat down at her depressing desk this morning, she had been anxious to get home. As the headlights of the train poured over all the decrepit concrete and preoccupied passengers, she took a few steps forward in anticipation.
The lights overhead started to flicker intensely just as she began to move. She looked upwards at the curved brick of the tunnel with an arched brow. As the train pulled into the station and started wailing to a stop, everything was abruptly cast in darkness as the lights cut out completely. Suddenly, someone grabbed her roughly by the arm, spinning her around, and kissed her hard. Too hard. They painfully slammed their mouth into hers, causing their teeth to crack together.
The squeal of the train and the sweet swell of a classical symphony filling her ears combined together horribly, adding another layer of sensory overload to the already awful situation. Before she could sling insults or express her complete disgust, it was over. The asshole who had just assaulted her mouth was gone, and the lights remained off. She spun around, uselessly trying to see something, anything. The doors to the train opened, and people flowed seamlessly on and off, some noting the darkness while others paid it no mind. Her mouth formed a silent "What the fuck?" as she looked around with her brows knit together, using the back of her hand to furiously wipe off her lips.
No one approached her. No one had witnessed the violating incident that had just occurred. It had been concealed in the abrupt, timely darkness. She managed to take the steps needed to board the train and found a seat next to an innocent looking stranger. Her mind was reeling. Even if she hadn't had her headphones in, she wouldn't have heard anything with the howling of the train coming into the station. It must have been some off-the-rails, psycho. Who knew what kind of diseases they might have?
She brought the back of her hand up to her mouth again and scrubbed it vigorously for a few seconds. She had just been standing, minding her own damn business—well, for the most part—and keeping to herself. Maybe the person who just decided to smash their mouth into hers had boarded the train. Maybe they were watching her right now. Wrapping her arms around her backpack which now sat in her lap, she pulled it tightly into her chest while holding one hand around the other.
Music had been flowing through her ears throughout the entire ordeal. Emotional music, at least to her. Music that she was analyzing carefully to determine if she could create a routine around it or not. Now, it was just serving as an over dramatic backdrop to an incredibly bizarre incident.
She wanted nothing more than to turn to the person next to her and say, "You saw that, right? I'm not crazy. That was crazy." But that was a comfort she couldn't have. She was left to sit amongst strangers, feeling repulsed and violated. At least everything was well lit now. There could be no more secret shenanigans under the cruel yellow lighting of the train.
In her best effort to push back rising paranoia mixed with fear, she closed her eyes and directed her focus back towards the music swelling in her ears. With each influx of rhythm, she began to feel her heart rate slow from its manic racing. Her back slowly sank further back into the seat, and all she could see was herself dancing across a stage. Work had drained her, the kissing creep had drained her, and her creativity was draining her. Jesus Christ, could she just get home?
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"Are you sure it happened? I mean maybe you were just spaced out or something."
Laney spoke between the crisp wooden thunks of her vegetable chopping.
"I'm pretty sure I have enough mental stability to know if someone grabbed me and kissed me. I mean it wasn't even a good kiss for god sakes. It was too hard, it actually hurt—worse than some douche at a club who's tripping for the first time."
Anna glanced up and over to the kitchen just in time to watch Greg throw a sideways glance at Laney. This crappy apartment was originally supposed to be for her and Laney. There had been no "Greg" in the picture when they had signed the lease to this tiny, barely-legal-for-a-living-space apartment in the heart of Manhattan. But for the past year, Greg had been slowly and meaningfully etching out his space in Laney's life.
The two were actually planning to move in together, as soon as they found the right place—a change that would be welcomed yet dreaded. Greg was always around to throw in his two cents. He prided himself on being incredibly reasonable and rational, which made him all the more frustrating to be around in times of distress.
"Ignoring your convenient comparison to drug use at clubs, it seems a little too convenient that this person would be able to time the kiss as the lights went out."
"What are you implying?""I'm saying that it seems like this wasn't a spur of the moment type situation. It seems premeditated."
A huge, audible sigh escaped her lips, paired with an exaggerated eye roll aimed at the empty living room as she listened to the deep-rooted cop knowledge in Greg rear its ugly black and blue head.
He had recently been promoted to detective, and it seemed as if his need for deduction had seeped into every aspect of his life. Maybe he would deduce that preparing dinner was really a front for money laundering. The possibilities were endless! She wasn't looking for some grand theory. She just wanted some reassurance that she wasn't insane.
"Or maybe it was some punk kid who thought it would be hilarious to kiss someone while the lights were out at the subway station," Laney chimed in as she kept chopping.
"Now there's something I can wrap my mind around."
Laney had finally come to the rescue of reason, and Anna started to feel the relief she had longed for ever since the unnerving incident had happened just hours ago.
"I mean Laney is probably right, Anna. But I still think you should be more careful. Try to stand by more people and keep those damn earbuds out of your ears. I mean you couldn't help the lights going out, but at least being a little more aware will help you defend yourself better. Something about the incident just seems a little off to me."
Her jaw clenched as he continued to preach that she needed to be more careful. "Keep to yourself." All she ever did was keep to herself. Outside of work and the occasional alcohol and drug-laced late-night dance clubs she occasionally attended, she kept to herself. It was times like this when she wished it was still just her and Laney. Or at least that Greg didn't spend every waking free moment he had at their apartment.
The urge to fight with Greg that was starting to rise up from her core was no match for her exhaustion. Sebastian, the king asshole of all cats, jumped into her lap and demanded her attention with an annoying meow. For once, he was a welcome distraction from her bizarre evening.
"Yeah, Greg, you're probably right."
Laney's bright and chipper voice was the one to respond, helping release some of the tension that had rebuilt in her shoulders from Greg's interjections.
"Just be careful, Anna. I've got an extra pepper spray you can have. Now come help me with the veggies!"
"Alright, alright. Just don't pull any funny business like turning the lights off and kissing me."
"I mean with an ass like that, how could I resist?"
She gave Anna a playful smack on her rump as she walked past her to the cutting board. A smile crossed her lips as she started chopping away. This is what she had waited all day for, minus so much Greg. The tightness in her body slowly started to unwind and her mind began wandering towards falling asleep while listening to music for her routine. Maybe it was okay to be rattled out of her monotonous, day-to-day existence. It had even riled her up enough to even create some more bold, strong movements for her solo.
Regardless of its slightly positive side effects, it was still fucking creepy. In the back of her mind, she knew she would probably heed Greg's advice. Tomorrow was her day off, which meant she would get to log an entire day at her dance company's theater.
That meant music, moving, and the companionship of others who truly appreciated and respected the art of moving like she did.
As the three of them worked to create delicious stir fry amid bouts of easy banter, a smile tugged at her lips and she felt herself beginning to relax again. Eat, sleep, and then dance.
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Despite her most desperate efforts, which included counting sheep both forwards and backwards mixed with colorful swearing, sleep slipped through her feeble grasp.
She stumbled into the arms of three cups of coffee before dragging herself out of the apartment and into cold, bitter air that only made her agitation grow. Her hands pushed deep into her pockets as she tried to use street smart expertise—or rather her lack of giving a shit—to navigate the crowded sidewalk that would take her to the subway station.
The stench of the city seemed stronger than usual, which caused her nose to crinkle and a silent curse to escape her lips. Amidst all of the crisp suits and meticulously dressed women, there trudged Anna, dressed in all black with a pair of black sunglasses to match. Unintentionally monochromatic, but appropriate.
She quickly traversed the filthy stairs that led down to the subway while trying to push the sudden surge of paranoia that grew with each step out of her mind.
Today, she had opted to keep her ears clear of any music, which was already a hefty concession due to yesterday's strange mishap. The quirky screeches of the station and constant buzz of random noise from people caused her eyes to shift around quickly from person to person.
She had purposefully planted herself in the middle of the throng of commuters. Usually she picked a spot in the back of the crowd, a place where she could observe without being too obvious. Unfortunately, she was also conceding her second method of entertainment during her commute time.
On top of already being paranoid, she felt horribly awkward. She shifted her weight anxiously from foot to foot. Her hands wouldn't stay still. She fidgeted with wisps of her unruly faded blonde hair and with her hood and her duffel bag. Surely she had to just be drawing more attention to herself. Jesus.
In the midst of all the business people, there was nothing suspicious. The unflatteringly yellow fluorescent lights were giving off a constant, unwavering glow. Not even the slightest flicker occurred.
There were a few younger kids hanging around one of the benches. They talked loudly, not caring about where they were or who else was around. Not long ago, she wanted nothing more than to be those kids. Aimless, making random disturbances and messes with friends. Instead, she had found her focus, her drive. She craved consistency.
Every now and then, she would give in to the urge to be anything but an adult and let herself venture to underground nightclubs to indulge in the chaos of a ruleless rave. One of the teenagers caught her staring, and she quickly tried to act casual by easily sliding her line of sight elsewhere.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Finally, the familiar quaking began to travel through the thick soles of her black boots. The train rumbled into the dingy station, and some of the tension left her body. It was as a smile of relief and victory tugged at the corner of her mouth that someone bumped into her, just as she'd started to step forward toward the edge of the platform where the doors of the train had sprung open.
With a painful thump of her heart against her chest, she turned to see who was behind her—it would be awfully ballsy of someone to pull a stunt as she stood in the middle of a crowded subway station, right? She held the strap of her duffel bag tight as she quickly whipped her head around to find a fully-fledged NYPD officer standing behind her. Her eyebrows knitted together as she took in the presence of the cop whose height forced her head to tilt back in order to properly see his face.
"Sorry, excuse me miss." His hand covered part of his face as he spoke, as he had reached up to touch the brim of his old-fashioned police hat to offer her an oddly formal apology.
All she managed to see was a blur of brown stubble and a fresh cut that ran diagonally across his cheek as he stepped into the train ahead of her, proceeding to stand towards the front of the car.
With an audible sigh of relief, she took a seat next to a man in a suit with a stain on his lapel, his eyes glued to his greasy, smudged phone. As the train lurched back into motion, she looked up to see the cop quietly surveying the car.
The officer's authoritative presence allowed her to greedily plug her ears with her headphones. At least now if something were to happen, one of New York's finest would be here to intervene. She smiled to herself as she thought of Greg and how smug he would be about her admission to being comforted by the presence of a cop for as much as they irritated her.
The sound of dark, mysterious orchestral-EDM hybrid music began to roll through her ears, and she closed her eyes to drown out the distracting environment of the subway car and shut out lingering thoughts of Greg and his self righteousness.
Behind her closed lids, she could see her form dancing across a brightly lit stage. This routine had been bobbing around in her mind for months, and it irked her that she hadn't been able to flesh it out entirely.
First, the movement had seemed off, and then she discovered that it was the music inhibiting the movement. Only a handful of seconds into the song, and she was lost within its throbbing electric twangs and brutal imagery. She drifted far, far away from the subway car that was zooming along, making jolting stops. All of this imaginative relaxation was possible because a man in a uniform stood just a few feet away from her, ready to intercept any person that was loose lipped or generally unlawful. What a strange power for a single person to have.
Then the officer appeared in her mind, right next to the stage. Standing, protecting. An honorable goal she had infrequently encountered throughout her life. His eyes didn't watch her—they instead gazed out at the empty auditorium she danced in, ready for anything that might interrupt her and her body as she moved across the stage.
This sense of protection was due to nothing but happenstance—she just happened to be boarding the train at the same time as the officer. But she let her mind run with the feeling, and in her imagination, he took his eyes away from the empty crowd of seats and looked at her as she moved through space. She couldn't help but smile slightly as her mind wandered along, deaf to the sound of the screeching train.
Rehearsal had run well past the allotted three hours. It was after nine at night when their troupe leader had decided they had had enough grueling practice for one day. Her body was sore, disgustingly sweaty and exhausted. Full days of dance always seemed to get harder and harder for her body to endure. Sitting at a desk most days of the week and then relentlessly throwing herself into dance for nine hours at a time was physically damning.
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Snow had begun to fall at an unforgiving pace while rehearsal had drawn on too long. She began to panic as she forced her heavy boots onto her sweaty, swollen feet. It was late. She would need to ride the train to get back home. But by some unspeakable act of god, one of her dance mates offered her a ride. Maybe the panic she felt crawling up inside her had reached her face. She nodded quickly, and with a sincere thank you, they were off into the snow-clogged streets.
The car ride was mostly quiet with a few short, intermittent quips about the impediment of the snow and thoughts on their rehearsal tonight. She noted her disappointment with not having the solo list released yet for the upcoming string of performances.
Daniel, a wonderfully centered man who danced fiercely and with incredible purpose, explained how this troupe generally waited until the last week before the first performances to announce whose solos would be performed. A great wave of anxiety and disappointment crashed over her heart. Waiting a few more months to find out who would get the solos was going to be difficult. It would force all of them to push themselves to perfect their routines and craft something with impeccable expertise. That would come at the cost of her sleep and relaxation.
He dropped her off in front of her building, and she made sure to thank him even though his news about the solos had snuffed out her growing confidence with her routine.
She masked it well as he gave her a smile and a wave, and she turned to slowly trudge up to her building. Snow crept into the tops of her boots as she climbed the few stairs that led to the hulking, aged door.
The decrepit door twanged her irritability just enough to let a mumbled "of course" escape from under her breath as she jerked the heavy door open through the inches of thick snow with a little too much force. Her already sore, bruised body screamed at her from the spot on her shoulder where the door had hit. The door wasn't worth compromising her body any further, but it was satisfying to violently yank it open nonetheless.
After trekking up six flights of stairs, she was relieved to find the door to her and Laney's apartment was locked. This meant that Laney, and potentially Greg, were inside and probably asleep or in Laney's room.
And that meant she could decompress without being poked and prodded about how her day was or what was bothering her. Turning her key in the lock, she pushed the weight of her body into the door with her hip, and with the squeaking of old wood it stubbornly pushed open.
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw that their living room not only held Laney and Greg, but another house guest. Three pairs of eyes landed on her. She held the doorknob tightly in her grip as she racked her brain as to who this guest might be. Her eyes traced the cut on his cheek, the brown stubble covering his face. No fucking shit.
It was the cop from the subway. The cop she had conjured in her imagination. The cop who had put her at ease and allowed her to relax instead of being a bunched up mess of paralytic nerves. She quickly turned away and fumbled to get her keys out of the door. It closed with a forceful shove, and she reluctantly turned to face three sets of eyes again.
"Hey, Anna! You're home awfully late."
"Hi, uh, yeah, rehearsal ran a bit longer than I thought. Everyone got caught up in trying to flesh some things out."
As she worked off her wet boots and hung up all her layers of warm clothes, she felt her heart rate start to climb with anxiety. The man who had brushed into her this morning, who she had imagined in her own mind, and the man who maybe she thought was cute or handsome was no doubt watching her right now.
She was an exhausted, dirty and irritated mess. Her patience had been worn down to nothing when Daniel had told her about the solos. Now, making a quick exit to her room and a shower would be … complicated.
"Well I'm glad you're home safe in this shitty snow mess, we were worried about you. Oh! And this is Ben, by the way. He and Greg worked together for a while before Greg got promoted. We were just hanging out and exposing him to some 'old' movies. Ben, this is Anna!"
Laney's words were louder than necessary, no doubt coated in a few glasses of red wine—both of their catnips. Ben threw her a charming white smile and lifted his hand to offer her a wave.
"Hi, Anna."
She managed a small and forced tight-lipped smile of her own, and found it in herself to wave back. Just as she was about to utter her "Well it's so nice to meet you but I'm really exhausted. Another time!", Ben spoke first.
"I recognize you. I saw you on the subway today. I'm sorry for bumping into you, by the way—who would've thought we'd meet again."
And just like that, her patience did not rise to the challenge of entertaining his recognition.
"It's okay. No problem, really. Well, I'm exhausted and—"
"Oh come on, Anna. Just hang out with us for a bit! Did you have any problems at the subway today? No signs of the creepo?"
A strong wave of anger washed through her, coming to a head in her mouth where her vileness would inevitably be spilled into the room of innocent bystanders. She managed to swallow the fire and keep it to a short, much less harmful response.
"No, Laney. It was fine. It was nice meeting you, Ben."
Ben's eyebrows knitted together in response to Laney's comment, and she took in that cut on his cheek again.
"'Creepo?' That doesn't sound good."
His innocent statement didn't warrant the flood of anger that shot up from her heart and went directly to her mouth. She ignored the chance to leash it and instead let the improperly placed rage out onto innocent, curious Ben.
"It was honestly nothing. Not a big deal. But I'm sure a good looking, well put-together man like yourself wants to jump to the call and 'get to the bottom of it.' I have no problem looking after myself. You think you can just use the power of your looks and your cop-charm to make me fall at your knees and beg for your help. Absolutely not! You're probably some ivy league jock who doesn't know the first thing about hardship, or women, or anything even closely related to being a sensible, tuned-in human being. Plus, I have a sneaking suspicion that this is another classic Laney-and-Greg attempt at hooking Anna up so she's not weird and single. Well, gigs up, I'm not interested."
After letting the last of the drop of molten lava drip from her tongue, she found herself out of breath with clenched fists. She didn't know where all that had come from. She didn't know that those words had been lurking around inside of her. Her eyes widened in their sockets as she looked between Greg and Laney. They both were staring directly at each other, and then the floor with grave faces. She looked back at Ben. He was staring right at her. His eyes were soft, almost a little glassy. When he spoke, his voice came out airy and soft.
"My mom just died of cancer. Greg thought it would be a good idea for me to get out and do something."
Her knees felt like they were going to buckle. The emptiness of her stomach churned acid into nausea. She exited the room without looking at anyone. Flinging her duffle bag into her room without looking, she went directly into the bathroom and closed the door. She barely managed to turn on the water before sobs cracked out of her throat.
There was no point in locking the door. Laney knew better by now. Her moods were a force of nature—hurricanes with large eyes where everything was calm and then a brief period of violent winds and heavy downpour. Except there was never a period of good weather. It was just right into the next eye. People were usually left behind in the wreckage. She kept her opportunities close, always being sure to grab them tightly before they were swept into the chaos.
Trying to avoid seeing her body in the mirror was easier said than done. She caught blurs of her bare flesh intermingled with bruises. Some old, some fresh. Her weight was a little too low. Lack of sleep and over exercising were not a pleasant combination. Add in lackluster eating habits, and it was a recipe for looking ill when she was completely naked.
Her hair was greasy with sweat and from lack of washing. She only covered her face in makeup when she went out to the too-late-for-anything-good-to-happen dance spots. The water was pleasantly warm by the time she broke from her own stare and stepped into the too hard, too short water stream that ended up hitting her more in the legs than anywhere else. It was still relatively refreshing, and the water mixed with her tears to help her forget that she was upset as she relaxed into the wisps of steam.
There would be a lot of explaining to do to Laney and Greg. A lot. It piled on top of all her other anxieties and caused a few more tears to run out of her eyes. She tried to let her bones relax, to let her body be truly cleaned by the water. It was futile.
Tomorrow would be Saturday. A day off from dance, a day off from work. A day for her mind to revel in its disjointed clunkiness. She already knew a good night's sleep was out of the question. She started swaying side to side, closing her eyes and trying to let some of herself go. This would all just blow over, right? Just a small blip. An honest mistake.
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There was a two person assembly waiting for her at the rickety, round dining room table when she finally gathered up the courage to crawl out of her room the next morning.
She had hardly slept more than a few hours. She spent her restless night abstractly journaling and listening to potential music options for her solo routine. And now, as she sought out the coffee pot like a desperate piglet rooting for a nipple, Laney and Greg stood in her path to her one source of relief from her neverending restless nights.
"Well, this is quite the morning greeting."
"We need to talk to you, Anna," Laney replied in a soft, gentle tone.
"Can I coffee first? Please. It's early"
Greg nearly leveled me with his far from subtle glare. "It's almost noon. But yes, sure."
With a rude mimicking facial expression as she turned her back to them and walked into the kitchen, she racked her brain for ways to make getting a cup of coffee last forever. After debating between pouring the coffee out into the sink and claiming it was gone or smashing the pot so she would have to go out and actually get coffee, she determined she would only prove to be more insane than if she just poured a cup, sat down and talked with them.
She pulled her favorite mug down from the cupboard. It read "Al's Affordable Auto Repair". It was laughable in more than the fact that auto repair was rarely affordable. It was also light pink with neon green print. It screamed cheap bar or tanning salon even though it really advertised greasy mechanics and crippling car repair despair.
Pulling out one of their alley-reclaimed, old wooden chairs, she took a seat at the table directly across from Greg and Laney, who sat side by side. There was an unsettling stillness in the apartment. She looked down at her mug and wrapped her fingers around it as she watched the swirls of steam dissipate into the cool, slightly chilled air of the room. She didn't look up right away as Greg started to speak. Of course Greg would start. Of course.
"Look, Anna, Ben has been through a lot. We were partners when I used to work the beat. We hadn't talked in a while until recently, when his mother became ill. He needed a friend, and I was there for him when he needed it. Needless to say it took a lot to convince him to come over last night. He hasn't really done much since his mother passed. He hasn't really been himself. But he agreed to come over and he was really hitting a stride until, well, until you came home."
"It had been a long, long day. I had no idea anyone would be here." Laney took a deep breath before looking up from her own cup of coffee to look Anna in the eye.
"I know it has been tough with Greg pretty much living here for almost an entire year. We do share this space, and I know we haven't been the greatest about being considerate. And we have tried to set you up with good guys every once and awhile. But you really went off last night. Ben did not deserve that, Anna."
With a slight tightening of her lips she nodded and looked between both Greg and Laney. After practically spending her entire life being an adult and taking care of herself, she still was incredibly unsure of how to take care of others. Relationships baffled her. She still didn't know how she had nabbed Laney.
"Yeah, I am sorry. I didn't mean to go off on anyone. Especially not a stranger. And I do feel embarrassed. For you guys, too. I can make things right. I promise."
Laney smiled at her and reached out to touch her hand, which was still firmly clasped to the side of her warm mug. She knew Anna wasn't a touchy-feely type of person. But it was who Laney was, who she always had been. Only she could get away with giving Anna a weird, comforting pat.
"We would really appreciate that, Anna, we would. Just a simple apology."
Greg nodded in agreement and placed his hand on Laney's shoulder. She furrowed her brows slightly. It was too early for all this serious talk and touching. There had been a point during her sleepless night where the thought of apologizing had rolled through her mind. It had been considered, but ultimately just a fantasy of being a good, decent person. She sighed as the late-night idea firmly planted itself into reality. Greg finally smiled a little and turned to look at Laney.
"We actually have some other news too, while we have you here at a table awake and somewhat coherent."
She took a long sip of coffee and turned her head slightly to one side. This was already terribly suspicious.
"We're moving out!"
Laney just could not contain her enthusiasm. She blurted it out before Greg even moved his lips to make words. Both of their smiles were ear to ear now. Anna even felt a small one tugging at the corners of her own mouth. But what Laney had just informed her of had a lot of other implications. Mostly living alone. And death. And living alone.
"We won't be able to move in for another couple of months. The process was intense, and they really wanted to find just the right owners. It worked out perfectly because that gives you enough time to maybe find another roommate."
"Another roommate?"
"Well, I know living alone really isn't your vibe, Anna. You're like a cat, independent but craves occasional attention. Well, at least some anyway."
Her brow arched at Laney's attempt at an eloquent explanation as Anna leaned back in her chair with her mug still firmly between her hands. It only took her a few seconds to connect the dots in her own mind. The power of the coffee hadn't kicked in yet, and her brain was still trying to lurch into full functionality.
"Wait, you mean Ben would be my new roommate?"
"Well, obviously we weren't going to just let him move in."
Greg leaned forward onto the table, clasping his hands together in the process.
"Ben's lease is up around the same time that we'll be moving out. Look, I've known Ben for years. It's not like we're suggesting a total stranger come live with you. We just thought it might be nice to introduce you two to see if it was actually a feasible idea. Clearly that didn't go well."
After murmuring a barely audible 'a heads-up would've been nice', she looked down into her mug to find the coffee nearly gone. There were only a few lukewarm sips left, the saddest part of any coffee, but, like a true addict, she would drink every last drop. With a deep breath in and out of parted lips, she brought herself to respond.
"Okay, well, it's definitely an idea. I will apologize to him. I honestly do feel like a dick. That's not me, you guys know that."
They both gave her the same lipless smile before Laney responded. Their tendencies were becoming eerily similar. Yeesh.
"Yes, we do know that Anna. Greg can actually give you a ride down to the precinct this afternoon, if that works for you. He's got some work to do."
"He's at work?"
Greg was quick to chime in. "Not officially. He's just catching up on some paperwork today. He'll have the time to chat, trust me."
"Well, alright. If you're sure. Sounds like a plan, I guess."
With a forced smile, Anna stood up from the table and went to refill her empty mug. This Saturday was not going at all like she had imagined. She had not been able to lay in bed and pour over more potential music for her routine. She would now have to start functioning, accomplish some laundry and room cleaning before having to leave with Greg. At least going out to the dance club was still on the horizon for tonight. Just one huge, Ben-shaped hurdle, and she was off to drink, sweat, release, and forget.
She considered the fact that she had to go apologize to a cop for going off on him unintentionally. Well, she guessed if he really was displeased with her and her apology, he could fulfill his destiny and give her a ticket just for being an asshole. Chuckling to herself into her coffee, she took a deep breath and shook her head. When was the last time she had apologized to someone for something? In person? To their face? In a non-sarcastic and sober way?
Feeling anxious and awkward would have to be the suit of armor she would don today, since the options of avoiding it all together, alcohol, and half-assing it were clearly out of the question.