Despite Shawn's mother insisting that she join her for Christmas at Thomas's in New York, Shawn declined. She would spend the holiday at her home, with a piece of her family, like they did last year, and would continue to do each year. Chance's mother lives in Florida, and her father passed away when she was young. A few years ago, her mother announced that she would not be travelling anymore due to her arthritis, and that if Chance wanted to come for Christmas, she would have to go there. But that didn't feel right, and leaving Shawn on her own didn't, either. In the past seven years, Shawn and Chance spent Christmas in the freezing cold in Boston, whether in a dorm room or in their apartment.
However, Shawn did spend the following week at her mother's house, catching up in a way that did not bring up the past in which they didn't want to discuss. As the days passed, Shawn had more on her mind than York. Her mother was taking her out and spoiling her—it seemed, to make up for not doing so when Shawn was young. She had so much new clothing that would require another suitcase to take it all home in.
And when Shawn finally did leave, she was faced with that horrible guilt of seeing fear flash behind the person she love's eyes. Once again, someone was afraid that this would be the end.
"Call me as soon as your home," her mother said, hugging Shawn for what felt like the fiftieth time. "So I know you made it safe."
"Okay, mom."
"Do you need another hat? I have a warmer scarf somewhere in here, it's freezing outside—"
Shawn laughed as she interjected, "I'm fine, mom. Really." She'd never had anyone fuss over her like this. She never thought that she would enjoy it, either. But being around her mother made her feel safe, and loved. It was something she could easily grow used to.
"Okay, Shawn, well, be safe, okay? And—"
Interrupting her hesitant words, Shawn stepped forwards, pressing a kiss to her mother's cheek as she said, "Love you, mom. Bye."
Before her mother could reply, and before Shawn was able to gauge her reaction to these words, she turned around, marching towards the sidewalk and leaving the small townhouse behind.
And then Shawn was on another city bus. Other than the sound of the rickety structure of the bus driving on the slippery road, it was silent; giving Shawn plenty of time to reflect on the past two plus weeks.
Overall, she wasn't sure what to make of it. She did what she needed to do. That was over. But she wasn't sure if her relationship with York was over, too.
These past two weeks had been selfish—in a good way. Shawn was thinking of herself, and acting for herself, despite the motive that brought her here. And although she was in a rush to get back to Boston, she wasn't sure if she was in such a rush to get back to York. It was exhausting, and even though they hadn't been together long, Shawn was enjoying the feeling of being alone, or rather, guilt free.
Leaning her head backwards so it rested on the edge of her seat, Shawn closed her eyes, listening to the sound of Snow Patrol in her headphones as the bus raced on, and patiently waited to be back in Boston.
-
Shawn's phone vibrated with one of the few texts she'd received in the past few weeks. As she was walking off of the bus at the familiar bus stop at the corner of her street, she froze. Every piece of her—especially her heart—froze.
12:49PM — York
Shawn, where are you? I need you.
Something about this text angered Shawn. York disregarded anything that Shawn was feeling because she needed to speak with her. At least that's what it seemed like. And then another text came.
12:50PM — York
Something is happening at Starbucks. I don't know what it is, but something is wrong.
Confused, Shawn hesitantly typed out a reply, and, after a moment of tense turmoil, she sent it.
12:52PM — Shawn
What is it? I just got back to Boston. Are you alright York?
12:52PM — York
No
12:53PM — York
I don't know what's going on. No one has told me anything
12:53PM — York
I'm hiding underneath the counter with the other baristas. There's someone here I think, I don't know what's going on. I'm scared, Shawn
Suddenly, all unpleasant thoughts of York disappeared. York needed her. Something was going on, and because she couldn't hear it, she wasn't even sure what it was. Which obviously would terrify even more.
12:54PM — Shawn
Hang on, York. I'm calling the police
12:55PM — York
I need you so badly.
12:56PM — York
Don't come anywhere near here. Not until I tell you to, okay? I can't let you get hurt.
Shawn would've liked to send her another message assuring her that it would be fine, but truthfully, she wasn't sure if it would be.
Her own hands were trembling with fear—fear that York was in danger, and that she was scared, and that although she was so close, she couldn't be there with her. When she received the emergency correspondent on the other line, she wasn't exactly sure what to say.
Nonetheless, the message was received: something was going on at Starbucks, causing the employees to hide behind the counter. Even if York couldn't hear what was going on, she could sense that something was wrong. And so could Shawn.
She felt it in every single one of her bones. She thought the anxiety she felt on her trip to Chicago was bad, but this was much worse. There was nothing like fearing the safety of someone you cared about.
And it was in that moment, when Shawn heard the sound of sirens, followed by multiple police cars pulling into the parking lot she stood across from, that she realized York wasn't someone she simply cared about. York was the person she loved. It didn't matter that York angered her, or irritated her, or was nothing like Shawn wanted nor imagined. It was this moment where this became clear to her, though it was not when she realized it. She had felt it since the first day in spotting York.
As soon as several police entered the restaurant, Shawn began to march towards Starbucks. She would need to be there as soon as York was in a reachable position. She needed someone there for her. She needed Shawn there for her. Shawn had never desired to be somewhere so dangerous before.
Waiting was the hardest part. It still wasn't safe to enter, and the police were still in there. Shouting was audible, even from outside the restaurant, though the words were muffled. Shawn was glad, in this moment, that York was unable to hear.
Nervously, Shawn crossed the entrance, completely disregarding the door and windows. She was too afraid to look inside.
And then she stood at the side door, where York would in no doubt soon appear, and waited. For another agonizing fifteen minutes.
The front door opened and closed before the side door did. The police pulled away before York appeared. But then there she was, crying and heaving—the first one out of the door.
"York!" Shawn didn't even care that she couldn't hear at this point. She was no longer in control of her mind—fear had taken over long ago.
Stepping forwards, Shawn put her hands on York's wrists, noting that she immediately jumped from the contact. But then, upon realizing who it was, York's bottom lip quivered, and she descended the few steps in a matter of seconds. She launched herself into Shawn's arms.
If Shawn thought that her own body was shaking severely, it was nothing compared to York's. She was sobbing. It was the first time that Shawn had ever heard noise come from her body—and it was the worst sound she'd ever heard. Sounding as if she was being strangled, York cried against Shawn's shoulder, wrapped in her arms protectively. It was all shock. York knew that with Shawn here, with Shawn holding her like this, nothing bad was going to happen. Nothing bad would ever happen in this position.
As Shawn lifted her head upwards, able to see York fully now, she lifted one hand from her waist in order to brush her thumb against her damp cheeks.
It's okay now. Though rusty on her sign language as she hadn't used it at all in the past few weeks, she remembered enough.
Thank you for coming... There was no one else—I only needed you.
Shawn nodded her head in understanding. And then she asked, What happened?
An attempted robbery. Those boys who smoke at the corner store. They... They held guns to one of the other baristas. I didn't see it, I was just told to get down. No one was hurt, they didn't shoot. And thanks to you, the police came quickly, and it was resolved. York signed slowly, whether it was because she was too rattled to converse at her normal pace, or she was being considerate of Shawn, she wasn't sure.
I missed you, Shawn signed.
I missed you too. I need to explain.
Shawn shook her head, smiling lightly at the girl in front of her, still holding on to her for dear life. Other baristas were exiting the store, as well as shaken customers who were gossiping outside. All were a blur to Shawn and York. According to them, there was no one else at the side of this Starbucks than them.
Kiss me first.
York did as she was told. Then, breathlessly, she was being lead back to Shawn's apartment. Shawn wanted to distance herself from the chaos of the exterior of the restaurant in order to calm down York fully.
Now that Chance was finished with her exams, she was either home, or working. And it just so happened that today she didn't have a shift until the evening, and when Shawn walked in the door, she was not at all expecting York to be following behind her.
"Shawn...?"
"I'll explain everything later, I promise," Shawn assured her.
Unable to see past the severity in her best friend's eyes, Chance nodded her head, and ducked out of sight and into her bedroom. Shawn led York to the kitchen, sitting her at one of the tables and pouring her a glass of water.
You should text your mom and let her know you're alright, Shawn advised.
York nodded solemnly, and after chugging half of the glass, she nervously typed out a message to her mother. She knew that she wouldn't be happy that she'd reached out to Shawn for help—really, her mother wouldn't be happy that York reached out for anyone except herself, but Shawn was much, much worse according to her.
Are you okay? Shawn asked, because she thought she would have settled down even slightly by now, but she clearly hadn't.
Settling into the chair beside York, Shawn watched as the girl bounced her leg up and down, her thumbnail in between her teeth, and her eyes wide. As if someone or something was going to pop out and she needed to be ready to see it.
Placing a tentative hand on her upper shoulder, Shawn let her thumb brush against the bare skin of York's neck, begging for her to look at her. When York did, she found that she was crying once again—just like the first time she'd seen her cry in the bathroom on their first date: silently, calmly, but heartbreakingly.
It's alright.
York shook her head furiously, the palm of her hand travelling up to her face and resting against her cheek. She signed back, It's not. This isn't fair—I can't even tell when something bad is going on. It's so dangerous, and I'm... I'm so scared. This is so scary. My entire life is so scary.
I understand, but—
No, you don't understand. York turned to look at her firmly. It was the first time Shawn had ever seen her appear so serious, and on one hand, it was saddening, and on the other, it was horrifying.
Then help me understand, Shawn replied, her expression softening. York's did not falter.
I can't—no one will ever be able to understand me. Don't you get it by now? I can't do things like you, I can't live a normal life. I can't be who you want me to be. It's always going to be difficult, no matter what.
Shawn frowned. Just watching York cry was enough to make herself upset, but she had never heard these proclamations of self-hate from York. It felt as though someone was stabbing her in her chest.
I would destroy myself if it meant fixing you, Shawn said honestly.
York's eyebrows creased. You said that I wasn't broken.
That's not what I meant. York, I would do anything for you. I have done everything for you. How can I make you understand that I'm not going anywhere? This is going to be hard, but isn't everything? Nothing in my life has been easy.
York remained silent, and unmoving, though it was clear that she was trying her best to digest this.
Shawn continued, I thought that we were over, I thought you'd completely moved on. And I was okay with that, I thought. And then you texted me saying you needed me, and that was it. You broke my wall down. You are changing me in the same way that I'm changing you, and isn't that a good thing? I don't want to stay the same person forever. Change is inevitable. The only control over change you have is who are the ones who change you, and who are the ones that don't.
I told myself that I would never open up to anyone in the way that I've opened up to you. York wiped a stray tear from her cheek and smiled. You're different. You're different than anyone I have ever met. And that scares me. Because now I'm out of my comfort zone, and there's no going back.
I'll be with you every step of the way, Shawn replied.
I know you will. And I know that you're worth it, and you can take it. It's just that... Sometimes there's going to be moments like this. Where I'm a complete wreck and I'm angry at myself, and you won't know what to do—
You'll teach me what to do. The same way that I'll teach you how to be with someone as stubborn as me, Shawn interjected.
She brushed the bangs away from York's eyes, staring into the brown irises that eerily reflected her own.
I've never wanted anything so badly, Shawn admitted.
Really?
Really.
York squeezed her eyes shut. What are you doing to me, Shawn? How are you doing this to me?
Shawn laughed lightly. It's strange how this world works.
Turning towards her once again, with her lips drawn in a tight smile, York nodded in agreement. It may not always be fair, but the world has its rewards. Shawn was living proof of it.