York always slept on her stomach. She couldn't fall asleep any other way, she said. And with her head turned away from Shawn, she was able to keep the dim table lamp turned on beside her as she retrieved the leather notebook from the hotel's bedside table.
She opened it slowly—she was doing everything very slowly, careful not to wake York by moving around too much—no longer wondering what on earth she would write in it. She knew.
January 9th
I'm not sure who I'm writing to, or if I'm writing to anyone at all. Perhaps my older self will read this in twenty years, and I'll probably cry, because that's what older people do when they look at things they did when they were young. (Which is really strange).
Anyways, we're two days into our four day vacation in New York City. "We" meaning York and I. It seems like now, everything is "we." I've become a package deal—a team—and I never thought that it would change me this much.
Something was different tonight. Something felt very real. Not that my relationship with York has felt fake, it's just that... Something clicked. It felt like I was in another world, really.
We were standing at the top of that hill, and we had one of our weird arguments. It wasn't an argument, really, but there's always a little bit of tension between us. I guess it's always going to be like that in these circumstances.
Anyway, York told me to put on my favourite song. I wondered if York has a favourite song—maybe she reads lyrics and decides that way. Anyway, as we stood there, it was like time slipped away. I've never felt that before. I've felt time pass, but this was different. It was as if time didn't exist.
And maybe York and I don't need time. I don't know what it is that York and I need—if anything. And I'm not so sure that we do need anything other than ourselves.
I fell in love with York to the sound of Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. And then it occurred to me: York fell in love to the sound of silence.
She doesn't understand what I would do to change that. If I had the power, I would. And I hope she knows that. I'm trying to show her that. But it's hard to show someone something you wish you could, but can't do.
I have a feeling that this journal will be filled with York, because that's where my mind is right now—and I hope that's where my mind stays. But because of this, I apologize to my older self, because it's probably quite exhausting. I hope, though, that my older self will be reading this with York's older self. And if not, I hope I didn't just make my older self cry.
Shawn never knew music like that of the person you love sleeping quietly beside you. With every breath a symphony began, her heart conducting a new song every second. As Shawn closed the book and set it beside her bed and turned off the light, enveloping herself in complete darkness, she lay back down, with absolutely no intention to sleep. Why would she want to sleep away time spent lying next to York?
-
The rest of the vacation passed in coffee shops that thankfully served herbal tea and bundled up in the covers of the hotel room. It was too cold to do much of anything else, and on their final day, they were too exhausted and lazy to do anything other than stop by Thomas's for lunch before heading back to Boston.
"Rachel really likes her, you know. To be honest, Nash behaves better with her than she does with either of us. I think Rachel is going to steal York from you."
Shawn rolled her eyes at Thomas as she leaned against the wall beside the front door. They were waiting for York, who was having a conversation by written notes with Rachel in the kitchen about photography and painting. It turns out that both girls have a passion for it, which they realized two nights ago. If Shawn had let them stay that night after dinner, they would've talked about it then. But because she whisked her away to that hill she'd found and kept York there for about an hour while they talked, then bringing her back to the hotel, they didn't have a chance to until now.
"She's going to need a lot of luck with that," Shawn quipped.
"So what now?" Thomas asked.
Shawn's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"
He shrugged, eyes adverting towards the kitchen. "You and York. What now?"
"Technically we've only been dating for three weeks," Shawn reminded him.
"Technically," he repeated. "Plus, it seems like you've been together for ages. That's how you act, anyways. Like you two are inside each other's minds. You know one another really well."
"Believe me, we really don't."
"Well you know each other's bodies. I've seen it. Even just from body language, you know what York wants, or if she needs something. It's pretty creepy, but impressive at the same time."
Shawn nodded her head slowly in both understanding and agreement. Shawn did know York well. She could read her just as easily as reading a book; every movement and expression had become so accustomed to her.
"I don't know what's next," Shawn admitted. "I think she liked this—being away from her mother. I think it was time. I'm perfectly capable of looking after her, and she likes that."
"She likes you a lot," Thomas said.
"I'd hope so."
"Don't be smart."
"Then stop stating the obvious," Shawn laughed.
Shaking his head, Thomas laughed, murmuring as Shawn and Rachel appeared, "You're still too cocky for my liking, Shawn."
Ready to go?
York turned towards Rachel and smiled brightly, as well as at Thomas. She then slipped her shoes on and stood beside Shawn—not knowing where else to be.
"Thanks again for having us," Shawn said.
"It was good to see you," Rachel chimed, "and to meet York. We'll see you two again soon, okay?"
"That is, if I can withstand another few hours with Shawn," Thomas groaned pathetically.
Shawn shook her head as she poked him in his ribs, then leaning forwards to give him a hug. She said goodbye to her nephew, who seemed more upset to see York leave than Shawn.
And then they were back on their way to Boston, unsure of what was coming next, but not afraid of the future at all. Each time that Shawn promised York that everything was okay, she wholeheartedly believed it.
Even Chance was beginning to warm up to the growing relationship between Shawn and York. That afternoon, after dropping York off and making her way home alone, Chance was eager to hear about the details of their trip.
"York is really starting to make a good impression on me, you know," Chance stated, after Shawn had recapped almost all of the four days spent out of the state.
Shawn raised her eyebrows. "Yeah? You've opened your eyes and realized that she's actually a kind person?"
"She's more than just a cute girl, I'll give her that."
Laughing, Shawn agreed. "Yeah, she's much more than that."
"Okay, to be fair, you thought that when you first met her."
"What?"
"You thought she was just a cute girl."
"No," Shawn protested, "you thought that. I thought she was a rude girl who ignored me. Remember what I said? I was like 'I don't date girls like that.'"
"Yeah," Chance rolled her eyes. "Liar."
"So I guess now that you're fond of York you wouldn't mind if she stayed the night?" Shawn asked.
"No—you've had plenty of girls stay the night before. Just don't be too loud, I have my first class tomorrow." With a wink, Chance was gone, pulling on her coat and saying she needed to head to work or she would be late, as usual.
-
January 15th
With York sleeping beside me right now, in my tiny double bed, I realized that I don't think I've ever known love like this. I mean, I loved Hunter, but that was high school love. That was a love that was easy to turn my back on.
But this is the love that demands to be felt—in every possible way. In every vein in my body and in every bone I feel it. Even when she's right beside me, I crave her.
She's almost always the first to fall asleep. She says it's easy, because there's no noise to keep her awake. But she's had nightmares. She's been staying over at my apartment the past week, ever since we got back from New York. And she's woken two nights, gasping for air. In times like this I wonder if I'll hear her voice; shouting, or if she'll say something while she's dreaming. But it's pointless.
I find myself wishing she could hear me a lot. It would make things a lot easier. I wish that she could hear me tell her that I think she's beautiful, or that she made me happy doing whatever it was she did, or that I need some space. Even when I have to tell her something bad, for example, like I said, when I need some alone time, I wish I could speak to her.
And sometimes I dream of her hearing me. Of her waking up one day beside me with the ability to hear. I know it will never happen, but I keep wishing. All of us are wishing on things that will never happen. It's what keeps us going. And what's the harm in that, really?
She says that her mom has cried in the past few days, because it feels like she's losing York. I told her that it would be this way if York had have gone to university and moved out, and her mom is just experiencing that feeling now.
I know what's next. I know the answer to Thomas's question. This is next. Being with York, seeing York, sleeping next to York. This is next. And I hope that next continues for as long as it can.
-
"I know that it's not really...—"
"No, Shawn. It's fine. And it's understandable. I knew this would come, and I knew it was coming soon." Chance ran a hand through her hair, which was full of snowflakes, even after being inside for five minutes now. January had not been kind, and now February was jumping on board. The snow was relentless.
"It's... I don't know if it's fair of me to ask."
"It is. It's completely fair—I'd do the same if I was in your position." Chance paused then, eyeing her skeptically. "You have enough money?"
"I do," Shawn confirmed. "But you?"
"Don't worry about me. Hey, I'll probably even move into another one of the rooms here. There's plenty of spares in this building. Then you'll get to see me every day, just like old times." Chance smiled, but it was sad. Her eyes glossed over with tears, just like Shawn had expected. "I'll miss living with you."
"I'll miss it too, Chance. And it's not because I don't want to live with you anymore, it's just—"
Chance interjected, "It's York. I know, Shawn, you want to live with her, and she wants to live with you. She practically lives here already, and I understand that you want the place just to yourself and her. I understand that, I really do." Chance paused, her head lowering as she suddenly became increasingly interested with her feet. She added, "Now you won't have to hear me talking to my mom on the phone at night, or doing my homework—rather, not doing my homework."
"And you won't have to hear York and I—oh wait, I guess York and I are relatively quiet." Shawn laughed.
Chance's expression turned sour as she said, "Sometimes you're quiet." She then took a deep breath, and for once, she was finding it extremely easy to stay on one, serious topic. "When do you want me gone?"
"Take the time that you need. Find somewhere, and I'll help you move your stuff there. There's no rush, really," Shawn assured her.
"As you're saying that, I can see in your eyes how desperately you want me to leave," Chance laughed. Shawn began to protest, though it was no use; both girls knew this statement was true. "I'll talk to my mom and then I'll see about finding another room in this building."
"I'm really sorry, Chance."
Chance smiled as she said, "Hey, it was going to happen one day. I just can't believe you're the one it happened to first."
Going about their day as usual proved to be difficult with the reminder that soon, Chance would not be living in this apartment anymore. It'd been eating at Shawn the entire past week, upon asking York to fully move in with her—once Chance had left—and knowing that she was going to have to ask Chance to do the opposite. Thankfully, her friend was in an understanding and compromising mood when she asked, and thankfully, everything went smoothly.
York didn't come over that night. Instead, Shawn spent the evening sitting beside Chance on the couch, watching one of her favourite horror films which even in the first five minutes had Shawn hiding behind her blanket.
"You're such a baby," Chance laughed at her.
"I hate this movie," Shawn snapped.
"You've seen it, like, five times already. You know what's going to happen," Chance reminded her, offering her some of the popcorn she'd made.
With her mouth full, Shawn began to retort, though a scream from the TV elicited a scream in herself, and soon she was back to hiding beneath the blankets and shielding herself away from the movie.
"Shawn," Chance said thirty minutes later, breathless from laughing, "it's over. You can come out of your fort now."
Grudgingly, Shawn pulled the blanket off of her head and squinted as a result of the overhead lamp being turned on.
"Well, I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight," Shawn stated.
Chance simply shook her head and stood up, saying, "Let's go for a walk."
"After watching that? Are you crazy?"
Sighing, Chance turned towards Shawn, who was still huddled beneath several blankets that wound around her chin. She pulled on her coat as she replied, "I think you know the answer to that by now. Come on, I'll protect you."
As much as Shawn didn't want to venture into the midnight air of the Boston streets, where a robbery had taken place only a month ago, she couldn't say no to Chance. In fact, she couldn't say yes, either, because Chance already had her mind made up that they were going, and stood impatiently in the hallway waiting.
"Come on, I'd like to spend as much time with my best friend as possible before you shut me out of your life forever," Chance teased, punching her lightly in the arm as Shawn finally exited the apartment, closing the door behind her.
Shawn knew what she'd meant by it, but she couldn't help but feel the sting as a companion of those words. Nonetheless, she wouldn't make a big deal of it. "You know that that isn't going to happen," Shawn replied, realizing that this wasn't the easiest thing to do, and it was alright if Chance wanted to mourn over it for a little while. Even if mourning over it was in her style of coping: joking and mocking in a way that made the other person feel a slight guilt.
"I know," Chance nodded. They were walking along the sidewalk now, aware of the vacancy on the street—though every car that passed made Shawn jump an inch in the air. "I'm just realizing now that... This is it. I'm priority number two now."
"That's not true."
"Shawn, it is, and I get it. Just let me be a little bit sad about it, okay?"
Tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket, Shawn nodded, keeping her mouth shut for the moment.
"Truthfully, I didn't think you and York would make it this far. At all. And I was slightly hoping you wouldn't." Taking a deep breath, Chance paused, standing directly in front of Shawn, frozen to the ground. "Part of that was because I didn't want to lose you. I hope you realize that now."
"I do," Shawn said truthfully. "But you know, we're getting older."
"Sadly."
"I think it was time that I grew up a bit. And York was the reason for that. Is the reason for that."
"She makes you happy, and she's good for you. And you're good for her, in every way. It's just surprising, because, like I said, I didn't really see any of this coming," Chance stated.
Shawn shrugged her shoulders. Turning her head, she looked down the eerie street, illuminated by streetlights and infrequent headlights. It seemed that almost everyone, other than them and the odd car that passed, was asleep. "I didn't either. And things have been moving really fast lately."
"Just don't ask her to marry you yet," Chance grinned.
"Too soon?"
"A little bit." Chance nudged Shawn's shoulder with her own as she turned, starting back towards the apartment. "Even for you."