-Chapter 2: Reunion-

The soft pink light of the rising sun slipped through the cracks in my blinds, illuminating my bedroom with its faint glow. I found myself with one leg hanging off the side of my bed (I've never been the most peaceful sleeper), when I heard the repeated blaring of the alarm. With all the grace of a poorly controlled marionette, I groped uselessly in the dark, trying to reach the bright screen and hit the snooze button. I did manage to touch it, but in this display of fine motor skills, I also managed to knock it off the nightstand, the quiet thud of its impact on the carpet waking me more effectively than the actual alarm.

Well, shit…

Realizing I couldn't just leave it on the floor, I shimmied myself to the edge of the bed, reaching my left arm as far as I could. My fingertips managed to make contact, and I pulled it within reach. I had just grabbed it in my hand when a sudden sharp pain shot from my shoulder to my elbow, causing me to drop it again. I winced, hissing as the intensely unpleasant sensation roused me completely from my sleep-addled state. I examined my arm, looking for the telltale marks left behind when an appendage is smothered against a bed, but their absence indicated I hadn't slept on it. I knew I hadn't done any strenuous exercise the day before. It wasn't a single ache, either. It was as if my muscles, bones, and nerves all hurt at once. Touching my upper arm with my right hand failed to produce any pain.

"What the hell…?"

I rolled my shoulder, the joint popping quietly, in the hope that doing so would remedy whatever had caused the incident. With no noticeable aftereffects, I wrote it off as poor circulation. Now fully awake, I sat on the edge of my bed, picked up my phone, and dismissed the alarm. Rising to my feet, after a quick stretch and a yawn, I headed into my bathroom. After swallowing my usual 300 mg of antidepressant, I stripped off my t-shirt and cotton athletic shorts, and turned on the shower. I washed myself without incident; no sudden, inexplicable pains, and dressed myself as always. 

My work uniform consisted of a pair of black, sometimes dark navy jeans, a white button down or polo, and dark sneakers. Today was a button down, black jeans kind of day. This was accentuated with our store's somewhat distinctive red apron. Red soas not to be confused with the coffee themed megacorporation originating in our northern neighbor city, you see.

I grabbed myself a granola bar and jumped into my little 2010 Honda Civic. I'd never been a frenetic driver, and I didn't like big cars, so my little Japanese coupe suited me just fine. One of the perks of my job was the free cup of coffee we were allowed daily, so I didn't feel a need to caffeinate at home. The streets were almost empty this early in the morning, and I enjoyed my short, peaceful drive to work. 

As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw Lisa, my boss, getting out of her car. She was a nice young woman with a mop of fiery red hair which she liked to keep tied in a messy bun. Only three years older than me, and she had already inherited ownership of the business from her grandfather. Now, I've heard nightmare stories about working for a family business, but Lisa was great. She had a good head on her shoulders, and she knew how to be patient with new employees, and convincing with ornery customers. Honestly, I really did enjoy my job, apart from the frequent boredom.

I walked up to her as she finished turning off the alarm and was unlocking the front doors.

"Mornin' James."

"Good morning, Lisa."

She quickly eyed me over before responding.

"You seem to be in a good mood this morning."

I cocked an eyebrow.

"Am I that easy to read?"

She opened the doors and we stepped into the dark cafe.

"Honey, you wouldn't last a minute in a poker game."

I sighed in defeat as I started to take the chairs off the tables. She turned on the lights and started opening the shutters on the windows when I replied to her initial comment;

"I'm gonna get dinner with Anna tonight, so, yeah, I think I'm in a pretty good mood."

"Oh?"

She perked up as she walked by me;

"Got ourselves a date, did we?" she asked, her voice teasingly low as she elbowed me in the side.

"No, and no matter how many times you ask, we're not dating."

She clicked her tongue as she lifted the last shutter.

"Shame. I always thought you two would make such a cute couple."

"Hrrrmmm," I grumbled, stepping behind the counter to warm up the coffee makers. I thought for a moment before saying;

"It's not like I've never wanted to, but I don't think she's looking for a relationship. I've never even heard of her dating anyone."

"Ahh. Well, some people are like that, I guess."

As we were getting ready, Courtney, a coworker a couple years younger than me, came in. She greeted us after a yawn, and helped us finish up. Isaiah, the only other male employee, rolled up about a minute before we opened (In fact, there was already a customer sitting in the parking lot waiting to come in.) Still on time, but juuuust late enough that he didn't have to help open up the shop.

What followed was a typical day. Customers came and went, and the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. The early morning rush gave way to the slow mid morning hours that preceded the lunch crowd. We were usually busier in the summers, but it was early enough in the season that the tourists hadn't arrived yet, and most of the snowbirds were still clogging up traffic in warmer climates. All was routine until around 10:30, when I suddenly got a fairly severe headache. It wasn't debilitating, but it was bad enough to clearly show on my face. Lisa took notice and grabbed me a couple ibuprofen from the office. They helped a bit, and the pain eventually subsided shortly after 12:00. I finished up the last hour of my shift, and headed home.

My afternoon routine was the same as alway. I ate a light lunch to save room for tonight. I hadn't recognized how excited I really was to see Anna until I realized how slowly time seemed to crawl by. I had also failed to notice how anxious I was. It was around 3:00 that I began to notice the knot in my stomach. The feeling wasn't overbearing, but it was definitely noticeable. And persistent. I still felt it by 5:00 when I started to get ready for dinner. I opened up my somewhat drab closet, pondering what to wear. La Cuchara was a fairly nice restaurant, but not, like, super high end. Think, Olive Garden type atmosphere. I wasn't gonna dress up, but I'd look like a bum in a t-shirt. I picked out a black dress shirt, a pair of light gray jeans, and some black converse. But were the jeans too casual? I held them up, examined them, looked back to my closet, and then stopped. Suddenly, I couldn't help but laugh at myself. I was definitely overthinking this.

Stepping into my bathroom, I turned on the bright lights and examined myself in the mirror. I don't know what I was looking for. Glaring defects, I guess? I'd long had a strange relationship with my reflection. As a child, I didn't really have much of a self image. I knew I existed. I knew I wanted things, and that there were certain things I should and shouldn't do. I recognized others around me as people, and I either liked or disliked them. I just never really considered myself. I didn't really care how I dressed or what I looked like. When I'd stand in front of a mirror, I understood that it was showing me my appearance, the same way it would anyone else, and I never really gave it any more thought than that.

As I grew older and developed a better sense of myself, I did start to care how I looked. I wanted to dress a certain way, and wear my hair a certain way, and be perceived accordingly. I would wear t-shirts with things I liked on them to express my interest. When I started growing facial hair late in middle school, I liked it, because it made me look more mature, and the other kids thought it was cool. Late in high school, I wanted to dress more formally and look nicer; so on, and so forth. But, probably some time during college, I stopped myself in front of the mirror, and really thought about what I was looking at. How I felt about it. And it was a bad feeling. 

What I saw wasn't a person. It was just a thing. Some object that copied my movements and represented me to other people. That face wasn't mine, but I had to keep it groomed. That body wasn't mine, but I had to take care of it. And I hated it. That thing I saw wasn't me, even though it literally was. I couldn't make sense of the feelings that inspired in me. I dressed how I liked, wore my hair the way I liked, but it wasn't me. I didn't know what it was. It was foreign. It was an unknown. It was other. And I hated it. I couldn't understand why I felt this way, and I hated not knowing, too. Just more things I tried to keep myself from thinking about.

And so, as I looked in the mirror, I didn't see myself. I saw not a person, but a collection of features. So I went down that list of features and made sure they were presentable. The light brown hair was… kempt. The green eyes were… not bloodshot or hazy. The nose… wasn't runny. The lips… weren't chapped. The teeth… weren't dirty, but I should probably brush them again, anyway. The skin was… not too oily and there weren't any zits. The beard was… trimmed neatly enough. The shirt was clean and not wrinkled, and the same for the pants. Everything was just as it needed to be. Presentable. So, I quickly ran a comb through my hair and a brush over my teeth, and at half past 5:00, I got in my car to make my way to the restaurant.

It was a fifteen minute drive from my house to La Cuchara, made twenty minutes thanks to the traffic. When I pulled into the parking lot, I found myself sitting in my car for a minute. The knot in my stomach had gotten worse. It didn't feel like a digestive issue, it just hurt. Like I'd been kicked in the gut by a horse. By this point, I was beginning to worry about it, but there wasn't really anything I could do. So I gritted my teeth and hoped against all hope that it would subside soon. Stepping out of my car, I recognized the red '97 Mazda Mx-6 everyone had nicknamed 'Little Red' back in high school. Walking inside, I was greeted by the hostess, whom I informed I'd be meeting someone and that I thought they were already there. She directed me to the dining area, and I headed toward the mass of tables in the central room.

"Hey, James! Over here!"

When I saw her, I did a double take. Never would I have imagined seeing her look like she did that night. Her appearance was a far cry from the cute tomboy I'd known for so long. Her hair was long. Longer than I'd ever seen it, reaching a bit past her shoulders. She wore a casual dress, an article I don't think I'd ever seen her wear before. It was a dark burgundy, close to but not quite matching her hair color. She'd even worn a thin gold necklace. She had rarely accessorized before, but it somehow tied her look together perfectly. She looked, in a word, elegant. Such a feminine look was completely unexpected, but it suited her perfectly.

"Anna?"

The surprise was evident in my voice. She smiled before we exchanged a quick hug and sat ourselves down at our table.

"Wow! You look… amazing!"

She brought her hand in front of her mouth and laughed shyly.

"Thank you! I was way overdue for a new look. You don't look too bad, yourself."

I scratched the back of my head, looking down bashfully;

"D'aww, I'm just the same as ever."

Our waiter came by and left us glasses of water and a pair of menus. We both looked for a minute, asking each other what we'd order, before striking up small talk. I asked how her drive was, and we discussed the unusually sunny weather we'd been having. Eventually, I asked her about her job;

"So, how was your first year as a school librarian?" 

"It was nice! Like I said before, it was pretty laid back, and the kids were sweet. Some of them were sad to see me go, so that was a bit tough, but it's what I wanted."

I was caught off guard;

"Wait, you're leaving?"

"Yep. I said I had a surprise, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I quit my job, aaaand… I'm gonna start working on a master's in social work at UW Tacoma!"

I looked at her for a second before I asked;

"Wait, you mean-"

Anna stretched her arms out in a theatrical flourish as she proclaimed;

"Yup, it looks like I'm your problem again!"

The weight of it hit me in the chest like a freight train. My inhibitions were out the window; I could barely contain my elation.

"Are you serious?! That's great news! Congratulations!!"

A couple people glanced over at me, and I suddenly felt extremely self conscious when I realized how loud I'd just been. Anna simply laughed at my sudden outburst;

"Thank you, thank you! I knew you'd be glad to hear, but I think your reaction just made my day!"

Glad didn't do it justice. I was over the moon. Anna being back was… well, I knew we wouldn't be seeing each other every day or anything, but just the fact that I'd be able to spend time with her more often was enough to fill me with a sense of hopeful joy. I wasn't going to lay all of my burdens on her, but I… I needed this. I needed her. The thought of facing my empty house and dull routine suddenly seemed so much more bearable, knowing I'd be able to see her every week, or every other week. Just that alone was enough to ward off some of the loneliness that had been eating away at me.

"So, when are you moving back?"

"This week, actually. I'm gonna be driving back down Monday to pick up the rest of my stuff, but after that, I'll be all set up!"

"Where are you gonna be living?"

"I found a cozy little apartment not too far from our old high school, if you can believe it. I'll be working as a teaching assistant at the university to cover costs and such."

I must have been beaming. I was so happy for her, and, admittedly, myself.

"That's so good to hear! Have you told your family?"

"No, not yet. I'll… get around to telling them… eventually."

I didn't really get a chance to consider her response as the waiter walked up and took our orders. As he left, the conversation turned to her future plans. She wanted to take a job as a therapist or a school counselor. She'd been a people person as long as I had known her, and I always thought she'd be well suited for a job helping others. She then went on to telling me about her other dream;

"By the way, I've also been saving up money to take that trip to Europe I've always wanted! Moving's put a bit of a halt on it, and I won't have as much extra cash to set aside with my new job, but I'm getting there."

"That's great!" I proclaimed. "Where were you planning on going?"

"Well, I wanted to start in England, then head over to France and Germany. After that, I wanted to go south to Spain and Italy, before finishing off in Greece."

"Wow, that's… a lot."

"Well, you know how much I love history," she replied with a smile. "Enough to minor in it back in school. So getting to walk around those cities with their rich culture and historic landmarks would be like taking a trip through the past! Plus, the idea of taking a train through Europe has alway sounded so romantic to me."

She paused for a moment before laughing;

"God, I'm gonna look like such a tourist!"

"Maybe, but if you're having the time of your life, who cares?"

"Fair point."

"That sounds fantastic. I'm so happy for you!"

She smiled, laughing quietly before she replied;

"Thank you! It's still a ways off, but I'm excited nonetheless. But enough about me, how have you been? How's work at the Double Tap?"

And so the conversation turned to me. I answered honestly while trying my best to avoid the more negative aspects of my life. This proved more difficult than I had imagined, and only got harder as the stomach pain I'd been experiencing got worse. It had spread to my chest and shoulders by now, and my neck felt like I was trying to hold a hundred pound weight on the top of my head. I could tell my exertion was showing, as Anna seemed to be watching me more closely. 

I steered the conversation toward more innocuous topics like what shows we'd been watching, but I was having a hard time paying attention by that point. It was getting worse. Each minute that went by made my body hurt more. By now, even my limbs were beginning to ache, and my torso felt like it'd been stuck in a trash compactor. My head started throbbing, and I could feel myself starting to sweat. With each passing moment, Anna's expression grew more concerned, until;

"Hey, are you feeling alright? You look really pale!"

I gritted my teeth.

"I, uh… I think I'm gonna use the restroom real quick."

With some effort, I got out of my chair. I gripped my side as I walked to the men's room. Stumbling through the door, I approached the sink, gripping the edges of the basin, and saw my reflection in the mirror. And it wasn't good. My skin was white as a sheet. Sweat was beading on my forehead, and I could tell my pupils were beginning to dilate. 

"Christ… what's wrong with me…?"

It was getting harder to breathe by this point. I turned on the faucet, filled my cupped hands with water, and splashed it on my face. The cold eased the pain momentarily, but I suddenly gasped, louder than I expected, as I felt like I'd been kicked on both sides of my sternum. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the panicked expression on my reflection. This was bad. Whatever this was, it was really, really bad. I couldn't stay here. I should have gone to the hospital right then and there, but I remembered my insurance wouldn't cover the visit, and so I foolishly thought I could go home and somehow sleep through the pain. I had to get out of there. And I had to- oh god… I had to leave Anna. Somehow, despite feeling like death rolled over, that was the part that upset me the most. But I had to. I couldn't stay. I couldn't endure this. It was too much.

I staggered out of the bathroom, walking back to the table. When she saw me, Anna looked even more panicked than she had before. 

"James, what's going on?! Are you okay?!"

"Anna… No, I'm… Oh god… I need to lay down… I can't… I'm so sorry…!"

And I started to run.

"James, wait!"

I heard her call out to me, but I couldn't stop. People were looking at me, but I couldn't stop. I ran out of the restaurant and threw open the door to my car, diving in, and slamming the key into the ignition. I didn't even check behind me when I backed out of my spot, and peeled off out of the parking lot.