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  “FOMO on Cecelia? That doesn’t sound good at all.”

  “Fear of Missing Out on Cecelia. It’ll get me to every party this year.”

  With that, he flashed her a smile, handed her some wadded up clothes, and walked out of the room leaving her feeling like butter on warm bread.

  2018

  September

  She knew she should've just hailed a taxi. Her feet were already starting to ache and she'd only walked two blocks. She still had twenty-one more to go and things weren't looking good for her squished toes. But there was something that pushed her forward.

  Maybe it was the bustle of the strangers around her or the peaceful night air, but something kept her from taking the easier route to the restaurant. Or maybe it was a way for her to have control over something about this night. Because once she walked into that party, all bets were off.

  All day, she'd questioned her decision to put herself in this position, to risk opening old wounds that were so newly healed. It had taken her years, years, to feel like herself again. Or to become a person who was okay with her past, who could let go of the turn it had all taken and feel the peace that she'd taken for granted for the better part of her 26 years.

  But she knew it would be awful for her to skip this particular event, even if Lou had not very convincingly told her it wasn't a big deal. There aren't a lot of things a person who'd heard you cry yourself to sleep every night for an unmentionable amount of time wouldn't do to help you keep your balance. Even if it meant that her maid of honor would miss the very first celebration of her brand new engagement.

  Albeit, a casual celebration. The family party, with all of its formalities and heartfelt speeches would come later. Tonight would just be a few friends going out for drinks, raising a glass to two people who just might be the easiest couple to root for in the whole lot of them. Joe and Louisiana hadn't had a clear road to this night, and Cecelia wasn't going to put a damper on it. She knew, no matter what she may have said, that Lou would be disappointed if Cecelia wasn't there. She'd understand, as best friends tend to do, but she'd be sad and it just wasn't worth it.

  This was a band-aid that would need to be ripped off eventually. From the sound of it, this was just the first of many events that this particular group of people would share. Lou wasn't the type to do anything halfway and her wedding would be no exception. She'd host dinner parties and she'd already said she felt like maybe they should do two rehearsals, because who could trust Joe's friends to pay attention the first time.

  And so Cecelia never faltered. She told Lou that she was being ridiculous for even suggesting that she miss such a big moment in her life. What kind of friend did she think she was? But, even as the words left her mouth, as Louisiana squealed and shot her ring that longing look, Cecelia felt the panic begin to rise.

  Panic had become familiar to her in the past few years and she could almost always fight it away. She could take a moment in her own mind to remember the things that were steady, all around her. Of her parents' voices and her childhood bed, of her sister's laughter and the warmth of the Labrador, Ensa, they'd gotten just as Cecelia had graduated from middle school.

  She'd think of her legs moving fast, headphones blaring in her ears and of the way her hands felt on the steering wheel of her Jeep as she drove circles through town. These were the pieces of her that she could attach calm to and that could bring her emotions to a level that was manageable. These were the thoughts that ran through her mind as she pictured herself walking into a crowded Manhattan bar and seeing him again, right in front of her. This was the montage that she'd had on repeat for the past week and she did her best to focus on it now.

  No matter what happened tonight, she could still call home. She could go for a drive and stop in Dunkin Donuts for a cup of tea, start up a playlist, and just be alone.

  No matter what happened tonight, it would end when she walked out of the bar. That was the promise that she would try to keep. There would be nothing further; she would not travel down a road that had already nearly killed her. She simply would not.

  Her phone buzzed with a text from Lou, her best friend and the reason for this entire mess. She guessed she'd have to face Max again at some point, just leave it to her best friend to be the driving force. And if Lou was anything, it was a force.

  2011

  September

  “And that was it? You didn’t even see him again?” Louisiana Atkins was perched on the far end of Cecelia’s dorm bed, cross-legged and devouring a Taylor ham, egg, and cheese on an everything bagel. This was the last step of the routine; every night out was followed by breakfast from their favorite bagel shop, Hole in the Wall, and a thorough examination of anything noteworthy from the night before.

  “That was it, Lou. He must’ve just gone back to the party. And I sure as hell wasn’t hanging around in some weird gym uniform. I bolted for the door with my head down,” she took a large gulp of her chocolate milk to help a particularly stubborn bit of bagel down her throat. “I’ll probably never see him again, this damn school is so big.”

  “Are you kidding me? We know he hangs out at Theta, we’ll just keep going back until we see him again. No biggie, everyone had fun last night anyway so you’re not gonna hear arguments from any of the girls,” Lou always talked like this, as if she could just decide something and everyone would follow. And, to be fair, she usually did get things done her way.

  Louisiana Atkins was the kind of girl Cee had always wished she could be. Singularly beautiful, and in possession of all of the confidence that entailed, Lou’s spirit was contagious. She was lively and knew how to ask for exactly what she wanted; Cecelia found Lou’s confidence to be the catching kind, since the start of their friendship she was a bit bolder and surer of herself than she’d ever been before.

  Lou was vivacious, and more soulful than anyone Cecelia had ever met, which is the reason the two hit it off. There was a balance to their friendship that brought Cee out of her shell and dragged Lou a bit deeper into her own thoughts. It was exactly the kind of friendship Cee had hoped to find when she began her college life, and she was so thankful for the comfort that came with confiding in a friend who always seemed to understand what she was saying even when the words weren’t coming out right, even when the words weren't coming out at all.

  Cee, and most of the other girls, made it a point to say yes to Lou whenever she came through with an invite. She wanted to experience college life and Lou was laying the foundation for the kind of stuff Cee had seen in the movies. From gathering in boys’ dorm rooms to play "Never Have I Ever" to squeezing into mini skirts and dancing at frat parties, Lou had the plans.

  Louisiana was named for the home state of her parents, which is where Cee figured a lot of Lou’s artistry came from. Her mother was of Creole descent and her father a jazz musician from New Orleans. Cee had met them when they moved Lou into the room next door to Cee’s the year before, and again when they’d moved her into the space they now shared – and just in those two brief encounters she could see the energy bouncing off of them in waves.

  Lou called her Juice. This charming little nickname came about when Cee went around the dorm and introduced herself to everyone as 'Cecelia, but you can call me Cee,' which prompted too many 'Hi Cee's' for comfort. Lou said she couldn’t possibly separate Cecelia from the obnoxious little juice box, so she’d have to just switch it around and call her Juice instead.

  Cecelia initially balked at the nickname in no small part due to its not-so-subtle ties to that of one OJ Simpson. She was shushed almost immediately by Lou's insistence that people who kill other people don't get to have nicknames, so Juice was clearly up for grabs. And the day Lou realized she could combine both names and just call her Juicy, well, you would’ve thought she cracked Da Vinci’s code.

  “I’m not going to stalk him, Lou! He was cute though, cute and funny. Such a nice combo, ya know?” She took a healthy bite of her sandwich, watching some crumbs land on the paper towel in h
er lap, and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not every trip to a frat house that you meet someone cute and funny. Realistically, it’s not every trip to a frat house that we meet someone cute or funny,” this set both of them laughing.

  “Can’t disagree with you there, Juice. I managed to have six, count ‘em six, separate boys tell me that they saw me in the dining hall yesterday at lunch. You forget to wear a bra one time, and all of sudden every guy from here to Timbuktu notices you in the dining hall,” Louisiana uncapped her Gatorade bottle and shot Cecelia a mischievous look. “I did give four of them my number though. They showed no signs of it last night, but here’s hoping at least one of them is cool.”

  They leaned across the bed and cheers’d their plastic bottles to that.

  Chapter 3

  2011

  September

  There weren't many things sweeter than a fall weekend on a college campus, no matter who or where you may be. Maybe it was the fact that the weekend truly was a chance to rest and forget about assignment deadlines and shifts at work and professors who never could just get to the point. Maybe it was the fact that, though it was a time to relax, there were way too many people around for it to ever be boring. Maybe it was just the preconceived notion that weekends were for cherishing, but Cecelia loved nothing more than a Sunday morning at school.

  She never wore anything more formal than leggings, she took full advantage of the small TV perched atop a stack of books on her dresser, and she made multiple trips to the dining hall for takeout. On Sundays, lunch was subs, dinner was pasta, and she was damn happy. It was the perfect day.

  Of course, it got less fun the later it got. The closer Sunday veered towards Monday morning, the more magic seemed to disappear from this, her favorite day of the week. But she was fully engrossed in her 10am cup of coffee at the moment and there was really nothing in the whole world that could ruin that for her.

  She wandered out to the lounge, leaving a still-sleeping Louisiana behind, and caught up with some of the other girls. Other than Louisiana, she considered Katie and Shelley to be her closest friends on the floor. Katie was a Business major who'd traveled all the way from California to attend Rutgers, while Shelley studied Psychology. Cee nestled into a cozy armchair, curled her legs up underneath her, and found her way into the conversation that had apparently been going on for the better part of the morning.

  "I just really don't think he should have ratted like that," Katie's own cup of coffee seemed to be the only reason her hands weren't moving in emphasis of her point.

  "He was a cop. It was the law. End of story," Shelley wasn't much of a hand-waver to begin with. Her point was made with the calm stare she often shot at anyone trying to disagree with her.

  "Yes, I understand that, but it ruined literally everything. It ruined Amanda's life. It ruined Morgan Freeman's life. It even ruined Casey Affleck's own life. It was a bad call."

  Oh, so that's what this was about. Gone Baby Gone had been shown in the main lounge yesterday afternoon. Clearly, these two had been in attendance.

  "Can we please just agree to disagree?" Shelley was done.

  "Yeah, of course. I just don't think the world is as black and white as you're trying to make it sound," Katie, it seemed, couldn't help herself from throwing in that last jab.

  "Ok, guys. That's probably enough of that," Cee honestly would've loved to join this conversation, but she'd have to take Katie's side and she didn’t want to gang up on Shelley. This was not a Sunday conversation. Sunday conversations were far less controversial than this one.

  "You're right, Cee. This conversation's gotta go," Katie still seemed a little perturbed at Shelley's "black and white" view of the world via her opinions on a movie that Cecelia honestly couldn't believe neither of them had seen in the three years that it had been out.

  "I was thinking of signing up for the breast cancer volleyball tournament next week. Would you guys want to get a team together? I think it's only like five bucks and all of the money goes to charity," and just like that, Sunday was back on track.

  Cecelia got Katie and Shelley on board for the tournament and headed back into her room for a day of absolutely nothing, shaking her head as a faint mention of kidnapping and corruption made its way down the hall.

  Cecelia couldn’t be late. She had three minutes before Professor Lidrow closed and locked the door of his classroom, leaving her fuming on the outside. This had already happened to her on two occasions, but there was an exam being given today and she'd be damned if her not-so-wonderful punctuality started affecting her grades. She glanced at her watch and picked up the pace, swinging open the door to Historic's Hall and shooting towards the stairs to the second floor.

  And it had only been three days, and she hadn't traveled back to the sticky halls of Theta Chi Alpha, but there was Max, turning smack into her, holding a cup of coffee that it was safe to say was hotter than piss warm.

  “Oh my God! Cecelia! Hey, damn I’m so sorry!”

  She was hopping around, waving her arms in front of her, trying to get cool air under her shirt without ripping it off. Max, for his part, seemed to be glued to the spot. His mouth was hanging open, his eyes wide and horrified.

  “Hi Max, we really, really, really need to stop meeting like this,” the coffee had finally cooled to a bearable temperature and she stopped flailing around so she could readjust her shirt.

  “I don’t even know what to say to you right now,” he ran a bewildered hand through his hair, a wonderful combination of dismay and distress playing across his face. “I kind of want to laugh, but I’m also pretty embarrassed, and I feel so bad. That shirt’s definitely done for,” he gestured towards the milky, caramel colored stain on her white t-shirt. “Please tell me you’re leaving class and not on your way in.”

  “Actually, I have an exam in…3 minutes,” she hiked her bag a little higher on her shoulder, and headed toward the nearby restroom, turning as she went as to not walk with her back to him.

  “Which is just enough time to get this off and throw your friend’s shirt on. I’ve had it in my bag in case I ran into you, but it’ll have to wait now. I promise though, the next time I see you it’s all yours! Bye Max!”

  “Just keep it! I should start buying you clothes at this point!” And that was all she heard before the Ladies’ Room door swung shut behind her.

  2018

  September

  Four more blocks down and Cecelia was trying her best to let her mind wander. To not obsess to the point of paralysis over this whole thing.

  From the moment she'd walked into work that morning, flashing a quick smile at her newly-minted assistant and peeking her head into Stan's office to make sure they were still on for their 10am regroup, she'd felt her mental fortitude come back to her. She was safe here. She could put her phone in her desk drawer and pretend that the outside world, with all of its worries, didn't exist.

  She had enough on her plate at work anyway. She'd nearly groaned out loud as she'd pulled up her calendar for the day. Three months prior, she'd been promoted to Deputy Editor of her department and the workload increase had completely overwhelmed her. She'd been promised an assistant from day one, but of course it had taken another six weeks before HR settled on Kevin. He'd proven to be a friendly and efficient asset and Cecelia had been thanking her lucky stars for him every day since.

  Skimming through her schedule for the day, she'd realized she'd barely left time for lunch, let alone a meltdown about tonight. But, if she needed just five seconds to catch her breath and calm down, that's what office doors were for. She'd simply click the lock on hers and try to remember who she'd become in the past three years.

  She'd remind herself of the good that she'd created all around herself and of the shoulder she'd become for those around her. She'd remember the work that she'd put in to get herself here and focus on the fact that there was no room in her heart or in her mind for regret, she was simply too busy for it.

  It was this train of thou
ght that had gotten her through the day, for the most part. It was surreal to think that she'd be seeing him again within the hour. Three years and not a single run-in, but he would definitely be there tonight. Or at least he'd promised Joe that he would swing by. That was unless he'd gotten sick, or hit by a bus (God forbid), or just straight up decided that he wasn't doing this. Because, no matter who you are, this wasn't nothing.

  She knew she wasn't being dramatic, she wasn't stressing out about something dumb; this was a big deal. This was something to contemplate and to mentally prepare for. And, for a moment, she wished she would've caved and texted him all those times that she felt so low she could barely keep her eyes open; when her pain was keeping her awake without the energy to move, but without the peace to sleep.

  If she'd had just one conversation with him, maybe this wouldn't seem so big to her. Maybe there would be some semblance of closure or comfort between them. Instead, her thoughts of him remained raw and unforgiving – except when they were golden. The sunshine memories were there too. With a small smile, Cecelia turned left and continued on her way.

  Chapter 4

  2011

  October

  Cecelia Scott had loved college from the moment that she'd stepped foot onto the campus on move-in day. She'd enjoyed high school and would definitely miss her friends, but this was what she'd been waiting for.

  She'd had this plan all summer to take full advantage of the anonymity she would have here. She'd even debated having people call her CeCe just to really mess with her image, but she honestly hated that name. She didn't want to be known as the girl who cringed every time someone addressed her.