Every String Attached | GirlxGirl

Chapter Five

Shawn had never really liked New York City. She didn't understand the big deal about it. To her, it was just another city, but louder, more inflated. Five years ago, maybe, she would've loved it. If possible, she would've moved in with Thomas, much to his demise after sharing the same roof for so many years prior. But if he'd asked then, even when Shawn was just beginning University, she would have dropped everything and moved there. Anything to be somewhere with a party, and a party all night long.

It wasn't long before Shawn reached Thomas's house. It was thin, yet tall: three stories high. Standing on a suburban road, its only decorations were the houses that surrounded it, all with the exact same exterior. The only difference between them were the colours of the doors. Thomas's, number 7 on the left side of the road, was painted green, differing from the various shades of brown and grey throughout the road.

Shawn stood, her feet glued to the side walk, eyes fixated on the door. She was fighting the urge to run, to catch another bus and get back on her way to Boston. But she couldn't do that. She promised her brother that she would finally come and see him, and she couldn't break that now—not when she was right there. More so than that, there was something about this trip, about why she so nonchalantly answered the phone, why she agreed to come. And Shawn intended to find that reason.

With slow footsteps, she ascended the driveway, her head feeling light. She hadn't felt so reckless in a long time—and she wasn't even doing wrong. In fact, she was doing the opposite.

She didn't even have to knock. Thomas must have seen her coming, must have watched her standing in the sidewalk contemplating leaving, and she felt heat rise to her face. Nonetheless, he was clearly excited to see her, embracing her before she was barely inside the house, taking her backpack off of her shoulders and asking if she wanted anything to eat or drink—she must be exhausted from the trip here.

"It's fine, Thomas, really. I'm fine," she said, while being ushered into the kitchen, where Rachel and Nash were clearly waiting for her.

Shawn smiled at them, now feeling all the confidence she had built in the recent years fade. She now stood before the people who had been so kind to her, who had reached out on multiple occasions, and Shawn had shut them down every time.

This time would be different. She was here, for three days, and she was going to make amends. Or at least, she would try. She'd never had to make it up to someone before.

"How are you, Shawn? It's so nice to see you—you look great." Rachel stood, rising from where she'd been seated at the kitchen table, a spoon in her hand and bowl of mush before her, with an irritated Nash sat in a high chair, oblivious to the visitor who'd just arrived.

Rachel was unlike any of the girls Thomas had dated in his youth. She was pretty—gorgeous, really, and it made Shawn feel jealous at times, for two different reasons. Nash had taken Rachel's hazel eyes and brown hair, with bowtie lips that always seemed to be smiling. As Rachel pulled away from Shawn's hug, she studied her features, noting that she was growing older, that motherhood was taking its toll on the woman. Despite this, she still looked incredible, just as Thomas did.

Thomas was the opposite of Shawn. Green eyes, dark hair. He was an inch taller than her, which he'd always teased her about, even now, as he reached from the top cupboard for a glass, then filling it with water and putting it on the table in front of Shawn.

"Seriously, Shawn, we're really, really glad to have you here," Thomas said, grinning. What he meant, though didn't say, was that he was not only shocked that she came, but relieved. Perhaps he was nervous that Shawn was going to shut him out, permanently, just as she had to their parents.

Shawn nodded, taking a sip of the filled glass, smudging the faint lipstick she'd applied this morning, which felt so long ago. "Thanks for having me. I..., I know I haven't been the best sister. Or aunt." She didn't even have an excuse. She was out of school, and even with her job, she wasn't ridiculously busy. She could've come to New York to visit every other weekend. She could've called every day. And yet she chose not to.

"Hey, don't say that," Thomas said, reaching for her hand. He'd always been so soft spoken, so gentle and compassionate with his actions. "You're here now, and that's all that matters. We really appreciate you coming."

When had he begun speaking like that—so adult-like? Shawn couldn't remember the way he'd sounded, the words he used, the way his mouth moved the last time she'd seen him. It had been that long ago.

And they'd completely forgiven her, wiped her slate completely clean. Shawn couldn't help but think that she didn't deserve that, that she should still be on the hook, that they shouldn't have been so welcoming after so long of having no one to welcome.

But she thanked him, squeezing his hand and finishing off the glass of water, looking directly into his eyes and hoping he could see how grateful she was that he was her brother, and no one else was.

"So, barbeque for dinner tonight—you know how good I am at making burgers. And then we usually take Nash to the park for a walk or something in the evening. We'll show you around the neighbourhood. Sound good?" Thomas asked. And just like that, years of silence was forgotten.

"Yeah, that sounds really good," Shawn answered, turning to face Nash, who was now having the banana wiped off of his face. Looking at him, and at how much time she'd missed in his life, she decided that there would be no more running.

No more running away. The only running she would now allow was that of running to something new.