As time went on, Cambria felt herself getting more comfortable in Pine Hills. The streets that once confused her she now understood. She had become familiarized with the coffee shop down the street from her building, using this as an excuse to get out each morning.
And each morning, she would think the same thing: This is my life now.
That night at Theo's didn't go quite as she expected.
They talked well into the early hours of morning, drinking up each other's words. He was just as enthralled by her as she was with him. But around five a.m. when she returned from the washroom, he was sound asleep on the couch.
She covered him with a blanket, then did her best to tidy up the mess, moving their half empty glasses and still-full bowl of chips into the kitchen. She took one last glance at him before slipping out, just as the sun was beginning to rise.
It wasn't until she was down the street, trying to navigate her way home, that she realized two things. The first was that she didn't have a clue where she was or how to get home. The second was that she had no way to contact him.
They never exchanged numbers.
The most perfect night, and that would be the end of it.
As she made her way home that morning, something on the ground caught her eye. She reached down and picked it up, inspecting it between her fingers. It was a man's ring, plain gold band, with a date engraved on the inside: IX. XXIII. MCMLVIII.
She looked up and surveyed the area. The streets were desolate at this time. Nobody was scouring the ground, searching for a ring.
Not wanting to just leave it there, she pocketed the ring, hoping she could eventually find whoever it belonged to.
Her weekend consisted of running errands. She stocked the fridge with fresh produce. She took the bus downtown and found a furniture store, buying herself a new lamp and coffee table. She cleaned her apartment, took out the garbage. She even went for a jog down at the lake.
It was as she was here, taking in the view, that she felt herself missing home for the first time.
Cambria had, for her whole life, relished in being near water. Like a homing pigeon, drawing her back to that same spot. No matter where she went, she would always find herself back here inexplicably.
Her mind flashed to a time of the past: running across the beach, stripping off their clothes, diving in head-first, her body fully submerged beneath the icy waters.
She closed her eyes and felt the breeze on her skin. There was a calming presence, being here. When the silence is so loud it screams at you. When the only noise you hear is the waves crashing into shore.
She'd choose this over the city life any day.
Monday morning arrived like a breath of fresh air, and Cambria was eager for this new beginning.
Only a twenty-minute bus ride from her apartment, Hargrove & Swanson's Pine Hill location was smaller than she imagined it would be.
It was still glorious, nonetheless. Four floors of office space, as well as the manufacturing factory. Her itinerary began with a complete tour of the building. She, along with the rest of the new hires, attended an introductory session on the inception of Hargrove & Swanson. It was after this that they were shown to their departments to begin training.
Back at home, Cambria worked as a bookkeeper at the library. It was the first job she could find after graduating university two years prior. And while she had no complaints, she also knew that it wasn't sustainable.
Her duties at H&S consisted of receiving information and inputting it into the system. Customer data, medical histories, account information. It wasn't difficult getting adjusted to the position. And once she got the hang of it, she actually enjoyed it.
It was after lunch, as she was making her way back to the third floor, that she saw him. She almost didn't recognize him, considering the last time they had seen each other she was seeing double.
"Cambria," he said her name, making his way over. He looked far too professional in his office attire.
"Jackson?"
He stopped in front of her. "What are you doing here?"
"I work here. Well, today's my first day."
"You're kidding me. What are the chances?"
"You didn't mention that you work here."
"Didn't I? I guess it never came up."
"Maybe we both forgot. Enough liquor will do that to me."
He laughed. "You're probably right on that."
"What a small world," she remarked.
"What department are you in?"
"Admin Services. Yourself?"
"Marketing."
"How long have you been here?"
"Just over a year. It wasn't the job I was looking for – it kind of fell into my lap," he said. "How are you liking it? How's your first day?"
"No complaints so far. Everyone's been super nice."
"Yeah, the people are great." He checked his watch. "Listen, I have a meeting to get to, but come find me once the day is done, we should grab dinner. My desk is just around the corner, near the windows."
"Okay, sure. I'll see you then."
She spent the remainder of the day biding her time until five o'clock, wondering what dinner with Jackson would entail.
When the day was over, she found him at his desk, and they made their way downstairs to the parking lot. He drove a red 1988 Mercedes that his parents had given him as a birthday gift the year prior. When he asked her what she liked to eat, she replied, "anything."
They ended up at the diner on Third, Jackson holding the door open for her as they crossed the threshold. He was greeted – by name – by nearly every person they passed on their way to the table. "Come here often?" she remarked.
Little did she know at the time how much power Jackson Harding possessed.
They each ordered a burger and fries with milkshakes on the side, Jackson informing her that they're the best in town.
She had just taken her first bite when Jackson said, "How many people have you slept with?"
She nearly choked. "What?"
He stared at her blankly, then repeated the question, slower this time, as if that made a difference.
"Do I have to answer that?"
"No." He took a drink from his milkshake.
She raised an eyebrow. "How many people have you slept with?"
"Thirty-seven."
"Actually?"
"No."
Frowning, she said, "well are you going to tell me the real answer?"
"No."
She furrowed her eyebrows.
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he said.
"Aren't you curious."
She had him there.
"Fine," he dipped a fry in ketchup. "I don't even know, to be completely honest."
"You've lost track?"
He didn't respond, choosing instead to take an enormous bite of his burger.
"Why do you think that is?" she asked him.
"Irrelevancy."
She laughed at this, finding it amusing. "Why do you sleep with so many people?"
"Good question."
It was silent as he continued to eat.
"You don't know?"
He set his milkshake on the table and focused his attention on her. "I think because it makes me feel good. Makes me feel... wanted. You like feeling wanted?"
"Who doesn't?"
"Exactly." He sat back in his chair. "Did you have fun with Theo the other night?"
She held his gaze, unsure what he knew. "I did. And you too, of course."
"I meant after."
She didn't know how to respond. "How do you guys know each other again?"
"We've been friends since high school."
"Right. You're very similar."
"You think?"
"Yes. You're like two peas in a pod."
"Funny you say that. I don't think Theo and me are alike at all."
"Really?"
He nodded.
"Then why do you get along so well?"
"Don't you know? Opposites attract."
"You guys are not opposites."
"If you think that, you clearly don't know either of us."
She studied him. "Okay. Fair."
"Are you seeing him again?"
"No, actually. I have no way of contacting him."
"He didn't give you his number? That's surprising."
"He fell asleep. On the couch. We spent all night talking. I didn't want to wake him, so I left. And it wasn't until I was on my way home that I realized."
For some reason, Jackson seemed satisfied at hearing this.
That was, until, Cambria said, "You could give me his number...?"
He held her gaze. "You'd want that? To see him again?"
"Yes. I think I would."
"Alright," he said. "I can hook you guys up."
She smiled, pleased with herself. "Thanks. Oh, by the way, take a look at this." She dug through her purse until she found the ring, setting it on the table between them. "I found this on the sidewalk, while I was walking home that morning."
Jackson picked it up, inspecting it between his fingers. "Looks expensive."
"Look on the inside."
Jackson brought it closer to his face and squinted. "September twenty-third, 1958." He looked at her. "Probably someone's wedding ring."
"Yeah, seems like it."
He handed it back to her. "You gonna return it to lost and found?"
"If only. I've got no clue what to do with it."
"Keep it," he said. "It's yours now."
"And what am I supposed to do with a man's wedding ring?"
"Give it to your future husband. When you find him, of course."
Jackson Harding was a fascinating person to learn about. But most importantly, she felt an inexplicable familiarity with him that she had never experienced with anyone before.
He shared stories and she shared secrets. She told him everything, without holding back, and knew, somehow, even this early, that he would not judge her. If anything, it was the opposite.
He made her feel understood. He made her feel accepted.
Jackson had two brothers and a sister. His parents came from Old Money. He grew up privileged, getting anything he asked for. He loved his job, but his real passion was cars, and music. He could tell you almost anything on either subject.
Everything he said, he seemed so sure of. Cambria felt that Jackson could talk her into almost anything. If he had a strong enough argument as to why she should jump off a bridge, she'd probably do it.
Jackson was intelligent, but egotistical. You could hear it in the things he said, as well as the things he didn't. He was confident, funny, and well put-together. He could walk into a room and have everyone's attention. He had a smooth demeanor, could conversate for hours, which Cambria was envious of, seeing as she struggled with basic socializing. She over-anticipated what words would come next, inadvertently focusing more on what was to come rather than what was currently being said. And then there was her crippling fear of silence. Silence between two people that was so uncomfortable it'd make her skin crawl.
Yet somehow, with Jackson, it was effortless.
The best part was, he seemed to be just as intrigued by her as she was with him. Which Cambria couldn't understand, given that he was a Somebody, and she was a Nobody.
She hated to do it, but as he spoke, Cambria compared him to Theo. From their demeanor, to their life views, to the way they acknowledged her. And the thing she noticed the most was that no one had ever allowed her to speak so much as the way Jackson did.
"I feel like I know you," she said to him suddenly. "Or, have known you. Does that sound weird?"
"Not at all. Because it's exactly what I was thinking, too."
After they left the diner, Jackson explained it was a mandatory part of her initiation to Pine Hills to have the grand tour of the city.
"And your ever-so-knowledgeable tour guide, is moi."
The city wasn't huge. It had a population of one hundred and twenty thousand. But there was plenty of land to cover.
They started in the city center, then made their way outwards to the suburbs. Each neighborhood they passed came with a story from Jackson's youth. He showed her his old elementary school, and high school. He showed her where he and his friends used to drink. He showed her the parking lot where he lost her virginity.
After an hour of driving, they ended up at the lake. Funny that he, too, seemed to gravitate here.
"We used to have bonfires down here," Jackson explained as they parked the car and disembarked. "We somehow discovered a loophole that cops won't come down this way. It became our safe haven."
As they walked across the shoreline, he continued. "We'd pick up a case of beer and some weed. Spend evenings down here as if it were home. I'd have my guitar, and I'd play that thing for hours."
"You don't play anymore?"
"Sometimes. Not really."
"How come?"
He shrugged. "Things aren't like they used to be."
They ended up at an old abandoned house. He told her the story of an older couple who once lived here, years ago. The city had been trying to get them to sell for years. They owned all the land on the south side of this lake, and developers wanted to tear it all down and build a neighborhood. But alas, they never could, because the couple remained adamant on preserving the land.
Even once the wife died, and his children begged and pleaded with him to sell the land and take the profit, the man still refused.
Finally, a few years back, the man eventually died. Everyone prepared for the land to be torn down, for construction to begin. However, what nobody knew was that while he was still alive, the man privately allocated ownership of the land to a conservation group. They then took the necessary steps to have certain laws implemented that ensured the land could not be touched.
When he asked if she wanted to go inside, her answer was, "absolutely."
She followed close behind him as they made their way to the side of the house, where there was an opening for them to get through.
The place was a disaster. Dust and debris covered the floor, along with wooden boards with rusty nails sticking out. The walls were marked with graffiti. In the corner were blankets and pillows.
"Who comes here?" she asked.
"A bunch of different people. All looking for the same thing, I presume."
"What's that?"
He looked at her. "Solitude."
She surveyed her surroundings. "Do you come here often?"
"No. I haven't been here in a long time. But I wanted you to see it." He looked at her. "What do you think?"
"It's... interesting."
"You haven't seen the best part."
"There's a best part?"
He turned on his heel and headed up the stairs, Cambria following close behind.
They reached a large room that somehow remained more preserved than the downstairs. There was a bed in the center, curtains on the window.
"This place was beautiful, once upon a time." He turned to look at her. "Humans destroy everything."
"Were his children angry? That he didn't sell?"
"Extremely." Jackson walked across the room, to the window. "I get it. They wanted the money. And it was a lot. But," he looked at her again. "I get it from his side, too. And I think, if I were him, I would've done the same thing. Because at the end of your life, money means nothing."
She walked over, making her way to him. "I heard this quote once," she said. "At the end of the day, the king and the pawn go back in the same box."
"It's true," he said, then gazed out the window, towards the night sky.
She followed his line of vision.
"See that star over there?" he said, pointing.
"Yes."
"That's Polaris."
"The North Star."
He looked at her. "You're familiar with it?"
"Not really. But my –" she stopped.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What, your ex was into astrology?"
"Ha, no. But I do know that it's the forty-fifth brightest star in the night sky. It's been used as a navigational tool in the northern hemisphere for centuries."
"Good on you."
She turned her attention back to the sky. "It's beautiful."
His attention returned to her. "So are you."
She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her skin.
Finally, she turned. The look on his face was grave and unrelenting. They seemed to remain this way for the longest time, holding each other's gaze.
They were communicating, though there were no words exchanged.
"You probably already know what I'm going to say."
She was quiet a moment. "No, I really don't."
But she did.
He held her gaze intently. "Can I kiss you?"
Just like that, she looked away, facing the night sky once again. She located the star. "I shouldn't," she said. "Theo."
He nodded once, then turned to face the star as well. "Fair enough. He did get to you first, after all."
She faced him again. "I like you, Jackson. I think we'd make great friends."
"Friends," he parroted. "Okay, deal."
And just like that, their night came to an end. They headed back down the old, rickety stars in which they came, out into the cool evening air. They drove off in his car, and Cambria took one last look at the house, shrinking in size the further they got. Then she looked at Jackson. And it is here where her eyes remained.