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Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Nearly Four Years Later

Carrigan

I was already awake when my alarm went off that morning, unable to sleep again. But it didn’t matter. I had a full day ahead of me. I turned off the alarm and entered the bathroom to get ready, with the morning radio filling the silence. Turning on the bathroom light, my eyes were the first thing I noticed. As usual, deep, dark purple smudges were visible on my face.

I turned on the sink with water, splashing myself to clean my face off to hide the bags. My green eyes looked dimmed, but that didn’t concern me. I spent most days looking like I was too pale, getting asked by my customers if I was eating enough. I always assured them I was eating and that I was okay.

This led to larger tips from the regulars, but I wouldn’t complain.

My boss would pretend not to notice the questions I’d get from the customers, but she always asked me if I wanted anything from the kitchen before the end of every shift. Normally, the bartenders received half off of whatever they wanted. But Kaitlyn wouldn’t let me pay.

I think she felt sorry for me. She could always tell something was up from the day I showed up for the interview two years ago.

The song on the radio ended, and I was greeted by the chipper radio announcer. “Good morning, SC! This is In the Morning South Carolina, and I’m your host Babs Poulter. Welcome to another warm spring day filled with beautiful flowers, plant life, and pollen! That’s right; the pollen count is rising daily, so ensure you’re taking your allergy medicines and nasal sprays and drinking plenty of water!”

I wrinkled my nose, not thrilled about the pollen. I was always allergic to pollen and hoped to avoid it this year. But as usual, living in the South may have meant warm weather but no escape from the pollen.

I started primping for the day, coloring in my eyebrows to match my dyed strawberry blonde hair and applying products to my face to add freckles and a fake beauty mark. From there, I added heavy eyeshadow and a dark lip. It was a weird routine, but it’d been four years of doing the same thing repeatedly. The only difference was I was changing my hair every time I moved.

“Today marks another year of the passing of the helicopter that went down just outside Philadelphia, Pennslyvania. Police still have no leads on how the small group lost their lives but have told us at In the Morning South Carolina that they haven’t stopped searching. We want to take a moment of silence for those who lost their lives on this day in history.”

I had never been honest with anyone around me. But this town was the longest I’d landed on my feet since I was twenty. I had come to enjoy the South by then, enjoying the people, the environment, and the weather. South Carolina wasn’t planned to be where I stayed, but I couldn’t bare to leave. Especially after I’d been at Southern Charm, the bar I worked at.

My boss and the other people I had worked with had made me feel, for the first time in two years, like I actually belonged there. I hadn’t known how to leave like in the past. So instead of running away at six months, I stayed. I didn’t pack up. I didn’t take off in the middle of the night. The night I planned to run, I sat on my bed and weighed the options. And I stayed. I finally felt safe for the first time.

I put down the lipstick and stared at my face again, looking for a single flaw. I didn’t see one. I went to my closet and pulled out a black T-shirt and matching shorts before throwing on my only pair of shoes. Another mirror check confirmed I was finished with my routine, which was my cue to go out and grab food.

“In related news, A Helping Hand has finally gotten its release date. The app, originally developed four years ago, will be released this holiday season. The creator—”

I turned off the radio, grabbed my phone, wallet, and house keys, and headed out the door.

I had the lunch shift at the bar, but it was a weekend, so I was going to my favorite bagel shop on my walk through town to Southern Charm. I allowed myself to have a crazy bagel sandwich every weekend because it reminded me of the ones my mom used to make for us. I would get egg, bacon, cheese, and sriracha on an everything bagel, my absolute favorite. It always made me just a little melancholy. But I enjoyed the walk down memory lane.

The bell above Everyday Bagels rang as I walked in, but no line yet. Just the cashier, the cook, and the dozens of bagels sitting in the display case.

“Hey, Carrigan!” the cashier, Lydia, smiled. “Happy Saturday!”

I gave her my own smile. “Still gotta work, though, so how happy can it be?”

Lydia let out a snort instead of a laugh, her normal response whenever I made a really bad joke. She pushed her platinum blonde hair behind her ears and adjusted her glasses. Lydia was only a few years younger than I was, and she had a large textbook sitting on the counter again.

“You want the usual?” she asked me, already typing it into the computer.

I nodded. “Can I get a large coffee, too?”

“Tired?” she questioned, adding the large cup to the counter.

I shrugged. “Just haven’t been sleeping recently, that’s all.”

Lydia read off the title of the bagel and coffee, and I handed her the cash I always had put aside. “Well, don’t let yourself lose too much sleep. I pull all-nighters some nights when I have a huge paper to write, but I swear I feel just wild for the next several days.”

“How’s your junior year?” I asked her as she handed me my receipt.

Sighing, she said, “Hard. I’m ready for my summer break with finals coming up. I had fun this year, but something has felt off. I need to go home.”

“But then who would always know my insane order?”

“The summer kid, duh.”

“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes as the cook called out my order. “José thinks my order is a crime against humanity.”

“Well, he’s right. Sriracha and bacon? What are you, Satan?” She giggled, handing off the food and empty cup. “You at Charm today?”

“Where else do I spend time, Lydia?” I teased, grabbing my order. “Thanks. Good luck with finals. You got this.”

“Let’s hope!” she replied, saluting me.

I took my large cup to the coffee island in the middle of the bagel shop, filling it with light roast, four sugars, and two sweeteners. I may have worked around alcohol all day, but coffee was my favorite drink.

I rushed out of the shop to get myself downtown to work. I was opening the bar, so there was a lot of prep work to do, and Kaitlyn, no matter how much she liked me, would still yell at me for being late to work on a Saturday.

When I got to the bar’s back door, I gave two knocks, signaling to Kaitlyn I had arrived.

“Password?” she teased.

“Pineapple?” I guessed.

She shook her head. “Actually, it was Lime.”

I snapped my fingers in the hand that wasn’t holding my food. “Damn, guess I’m not allowed to work today.”

“You wish,” Kaitlyn responded, moving aside to let me in. “You got ten minutes to eat, then we start.”

I saluted. “Aye, aye, captain.”

“Also, it’s just us until five. Paul apparently has been in urgent care since two this morning, and no one can cover his shift. So I have Nina coming in at five to even it out.”

I dropped my food on the counter. “F*cking Paul,” I said, shaking my head. “Does that mean I win again?”

We had a bet going, Kaitlyn and I, about how many weekends I’d worked without another bartender. This was the fourth time my partner had called out in two months, which is usually when I’d win the bet.

No one knew about this bet except for the two of us. And the winnings usually meant I could have two drinks and all food on the house.

“My wallet hurts to hear you so happy about working alone,” Kaitlyn smirked. “You win again, Carrigan.”

This was the sixth time in two years I’d won. I threw my fist in the air, Judd Nelson style, and held it there, victorious. Though if I had to cast myself as someone in that movie, it’d be Claire, no question.

Oh, to be in a John Hughes 80s film.

Kaitlyn threw a dishrag at me. “You’re down to five minutes to eat. Move it, woman. We got work to do.”

“Okay, okay!” I laughed, opening up my sandwich wrapper.


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