By her twentieth birthday, there are a few things Valarie Ricci knows for certain.
She knows that her waitressing job barely covers the costs of living out of a beat up old van. She knows she's stuck in the dead end hometown her high school friends...
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Bastien dropped the two of them off at the nearest bus station the next morning. The predawn sky was a tumble of barrel-like clouds highlighted in pink and blue. Valarie could see her breath in the air, and the wind chill felt harsher after waking up in the warmth of Alice's arms around her. The cold seemed to cut through Valarie's jacket, reaching down to her bones.
She missed Ithaca, who she'd left with Mom and detailed care instructions. Only for a few days, she reminded herself. It didn't make sense to wrangle a dog onto a long distance bus ride. She'd have Ithaca back once she got back from Toronto. It wouldn't be forever. Mom could be trusted with the dog, at least.
Beside her, Alice sneezed, the exposed end of her nose turning red. Her eyes were shut as she leaned against the bus shelter, her duffle bag stored between her feet. Valarie wanted to ask what she was thinking about but felt like the sound of her own voice would be too jarring in the quiet.
They'd barely spoken that morning, even as they'd woken up naked and tangled in a cocoon of blankets. The silence wasn't awkward. Instead, it felt like a shared exhaustion from stumbling around in the cold dark, half-dressed and hungry as they scrambled to leave for the bus on time.
As she watched Alice, Valarie remembered things she had done the night before, the noises she had made, and the things she'd said. The memories stirred the blood flowing through her veins.
It hadn't been enough. With Alice, it was never enough. Valarie would always want more. Alice was the one thing that Valarie'd ever been ambitious about; the one thing she'd never let herself feel guilty or unworthy for wanting.
And Valarie had no intention of losing her again. She could let herself admit that now, and it made the idea of Toronto all the more terrifying. Neither of them knew what to expect next.
They stood, half-asleep, for ten more minutes before the bus arrived. It would be the first bus of many that they would be taking to finally, finally get to their destination. Valarie chose a window seat near the back of the nearly empty bus, reclined back and closed her eyes. The weight of Alice's head appeared on her shoulder, and she leaned into it. The steady rise and fall of Alice's breath against her side lulled Valarie back to sleep, reminding her that not all miracles have to be terrifying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At first, the city seemed fake to Valarie, as if somebody had erected an elaborate maze of streets and buildings to trick her. From the view outside the bus window, she could imagine pressing her palm against the sky-high glass buildings only to feel them fall away like cardboard.
As they struck further into the downtown core, the traffic growing more dense, as if pressing down upon them, Valarie felt Alice grow increasingly tense beside her.
"You okay?" she asked as the bus pulled into Union Station.
Alice shrugged. "Just... I keep thinking that any of this could be one of the last things that Grace would have seen, the last street that she would have walked on. I don't know. I wouldn't ever want to live here again."
Valarie stretched her pinkie finger across the armrest, brushing against Alice's hand. "Hopefully we won't have to be here too long."
Alice's weak smile acknowledged Valarie's attempt at comfort but did little to suggest that her words had actually helped. Alice loosely gripped her phone in her other hand, the screen still open to some hotel's website. "There's some sort of comic convention happening," she said. "I'm still trying to find us a room that I won't have to sell my kidney to pay for."
Valarie thumbed at her own phone screen, a new message from Rachel popping up. Valarie had used the bus ride to finally respond to all the calls she'd been ignoring since Rachel had sent her the article link. "I, uh, might know of a couch we can sleep on."
Alice raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Valarie braced herself before saying, "Yeah. Uh, Rachel kinda offered."
Alice's response was immediate and predictable. "No, fuck that," she said, a muscle jumping in her jaw. "I'll think of something."
"It's a good option."
"No."
"You can't hate her forever for a choice that I made."
Alice snorted. "I can and I will. One of us has to."
"Alice."
Those hazel eyes shot her a look of warning. "Valarie."
"She's grown up a lot since high school–since what happened."
"I don't care if she's become a fucking saint," Alice said. "She let you make the worst decision of your life without blinking an eye."
"Please." Valarie prodded gently at Alice's shoulder. "I've made plenty of bad decisions without any help from anyone. And who knows? I might even do something more stupid down the line. Stay tuned, I got plenty of time."
Alice shifted in her seat to fully face Valarie without even the ghost of humour or amusement in her face. "I won't joke about what you did. Not ever. You made that decision because you honestly, genuinely believed that you deserved less than Rachel or Theo. It wasn't just a bad decision, it was a fucking tragedy." As if she wanted to force the words in Valarie's head, she added, "Genuinely. I mean that."
Valarie's mouth went dry. "It's in the past."
"Do you regret it?"
Her mouth formed an automatic 'no' before she stopped herself. She knew that Alice wasn't a stranger to bad decisions. "Sometimes. Well, not at first and not for a while. But when Rachel actually moved away for school it became more real to me, I think, and that's when I started getting a little bitter about it. I was alone at home, and I didn't have much to distract me from all the 'what ifs,' you know? But more time passed and it was like I'd stopped moving. That was all me. I could have gotten my GED anytime. I just didn't. I..."
"What?"
"I don't know." Valarie looked down at her hands, swallowing back shame. "The more time passed, the more I convinced myself that I wouldn't be able to do it. I let it feel so scary, and, like, it was easier to tell myself that I was just too dumb, if that makes sense?" She tried to smile. "It's like I told you. I'm scared of everything these days."
Alice surprised her by leaning over to take Valarie's face into her hands. She peppered kisses to her chin, the corners of her mouth, high on her cheekbone.
Despite herself, Valarie's smile became real. "What was that for?"
"Because you're here," Alice said, still so serious, releasing Valarie's face. "And I don't know what we're heading into, but you need to hear something."
"What?"
"You don't ever have to be afraid of what you deserve. Promise me one last thing?"
She wanted to say that she could spend the rest of her life promising Alice things. Instead, she nodded.
"It's safe for you to have the most beautiful dreams, Valarie. Big or little or impossible or anything you want, okay? You don't have to make yourself small. Not for me, not for your Mom, not for Rachel or anybody at all."
"You sound like one of those picture books."
"Good. You should listen to me."
Valarie shrugged. "Well, by your own logic, I think we should take Rachel's offer."
