Chapter Two. Gridlock
Chapter Two
GRIDLOCK
“Well,” Danny said, dropping their Greek takeout on the kitchen counter, “this wasn’t what I expected your place to look like.”
Disaster greeted them. In the living room, hangered clothing and loose shoes were scattered across the sofa, joining a collapsing stack of textbooks on the coffee table.
The kitchen wasn’t any better. The minimal counter space was littered with snack bags, measuring cups that suspiciously reeked of tequila, and a three-quarters-empty bottle of Malibu.
Oh, and the entire place smelled like weed. “Nice and strong, too,” Danny teased, the moment she pointed it out.
As he unpacked their food, she wondered what he was thinking. If he’d noticed the discount, beaten furniture, the colorful tapestry hanging behind the sofa, the refurbished kids’ play set moonlighting as a bar cart …
Toeing out of his loaned socks, she dropped into a chair most definitely borrowed from a college study room.
“This place belongs to three GW juniors,” she explained.
When he joined her at the table, she accepted her plate with a thank-you.
“But one of them, Kylie, is doing an exchange year in Spain and didn’t want to lose her place. So … she subleased to me.”
Across from her, Danny sat in another chair of questionable origin, tearing through his gyro. “You live with college kids? I thought when Morgan left, you got your own place.”
“About that.” She pulled at the label of her lemonade bottle. “I lied.”
“You lied?”
“When Morgan told me she was leaving, I decided not to find a new roommate and renew our lease. We sold our furniture and … it was supposed to be a fresh start. Except I couldn’t get approved anywhere.
But for a sublease, that wasn’t necessary.
This place was reasonably priced, furnished, and close to the Metro.
My plan was to live here and save as much as possible so that by the summer, I could move somewhere more permanent. ”
He sat back in the hideous floral dining chair, arms crossed as he watched her eat feta out of her gyro. “How has your plan gone?”
“Terribly. My credit score is a mess so I can’t get anything without a cosigner.”
“Would you consider asking your parents?”
“No. I’m already too dependent on them. I’m on my dad’s health insurance until I’m kicked off in August. They pay for my phone, my dad files my taxes for me … Not to mention, they cosigned my student loans, and that’s going so well as I struggle to make my monthly payment.”
“Cam…”
“Except,” she rambled on, laughing so she wouldn’t cry, “Kylie is back in two weeks, which means I have fourteen days until I’m out of here.”
“You haven’t found anything?” he asked.
“Nope. Not even with roommates. It doesn’t help that I can barely afford a deposit, let alone the issues getting approved for a place.
” She shoved away her half-eaten gyro. “For the last few weeks, I panicked about what would happen with my job if I had to move back home. I figured I could swing remote for a bit, but they’d get fed up fast. Joke’s on me! There’s no job to stress about.”
The way he stared at her, lips tight and eyes soft, sent her heart to her stomach. She didn’t like people feeling bad for her. Not when she had options.
So many people didn’t.
“So that’s the plan? You’re moving home? Have you talked to your parents?”
“Nope.”
“And when were you planning on doing that?”
“Hmm.” She confirmed the date on her phone. “I have fourteen days until I need to be out so … In twelve days, I’ll call my dad crying and beg him to pick me up. Easy.”
Danny shook his head, flipping through the mess on the dining table like it was an archeological dig. Random junk went flying everywhere: an art history notebook, free merch from a school festival, a half-empty box of tampons …
“No,” he said.
“No?”
“You can’t go home.” He disappeared into the kitchen with their plates, and when running water echoed, she knew he was washing the dishes. “You said you feel dependent on your parents. If you don’t feel comfortable asking them to cosign a lease, do you really think you’ll survive living with them?”
She joined him in the kitchen and sat on the only clean stretch of counter, ignoring the Costco-sized cereal box digging into her back.
“What other option do I have? I might be able to find something fast and short-term, but I don’t see the point.
I don’t have a job keeping me here, and with Morgan gone, I barely have friends either. ”
Danny was making his way through the very full sink, and she couldn’t understand why he was being so good to her when her actions had dragged him through half the East Coast.
“Come to Rhode Island with me,” he replied. The water shut off, and one by one, the dishes were dried. “You said it yourself. There’s nothing keeping you here. You need a change of scenery. Beau’s will be good for you.”
Beau’s.
The beachside restaurant and bar in Elswick, Rhode Island, had been Danny’s everything for the past three years.
Cam had yet to see Beau’s, but she’d heard plenty about it.
In college, nobody—including Danny—knew what his next steps were.
But in the months following graduation, his uncle Beauregard died and left Danny the restaurant.
And while his parents insisted he sell the popular local spot and invest the money, he decided to run it.
From the ease of his smile and the twinkle in his eyes, it was clear he didn’t regret his decision.
He never seemed to regret anything.
Cam wondered what that was like.
“Are you serious? You’re inviting me to stay with you?”
He shrugged. “Why not? I’ve got a spare room.
” Dishes dried, he threw the towel over his shoulder.
Clear as day, she saw him at Beau’s, charming patrons with an easygoing smile.
“Stay for as long as you wanna and if you gotta be somewhere else, I’ll take you there.
DC, Delaware, or Dallas, I’ve got your back. ”
“It would be nice to see Beau’s. The beach. Meet Reggie.”
“Reggie will love you.”
Living with a dog was nearly enough for Cam to blurt out yes. But her nagging, responsible side clawed up her throat, desperate for an escape.
“But … what will I do there?”
Once every plate was neatly tucked away, he shut the cabinet, laughing. “It doesn’t matter. Swim, sunbathe, sleep, who cares? Hell, you can work at Beau’s if you wanna.” He crossed the kitchen and leaned against the fridge, watching her. “You could write. When’s the last time you wrote?”
Staring at her blistered feet, she shrugged. “Not for a while.”
“Once upon a time that was your dream.”
And like most dreams, it faded. For more than ten years of her life, Cam had convinced herself she was destined for a future penning books, with fans across the globe. But in the chaos of college and the purgatory of her twenties, she rarely put her thoughts to paper.
If she was too tired to live, how could she write?
“Once upon a time, it felt like anything was possible. I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”
“It sounds like you need a break.” He gathered food wrappers from the counters and stuffed them in the trash. “Stay with me, relax, and have some fun. Once you get your head on straight, you can figure out what’s next.”
It was a ludicrous idea and yet … throwing caution to the wind had its appeal. Following the rules and being responsible hadn’t done her much good. What did she have to lose? She didn’t have a job. She didn’t have any money. Hell, in two weeks, she wouldn’t have a permanent home.
“Okay. I’ll come. But only for a few days. Just until I decide my next steps.”
He grinned over his shoulder, still busy cleaning the mess her roommates had left. “Good. Let’s get you packed up. How long do you need?”
“Not long,” she replied. “I don’t have much here.”
She vaulted off the counter and towards her bedroom, Danny on her heels. While the furnishings weren’t her taste, the private space was an upgrade compared to the rest of the apartment. The mass-produced furniture was oddly comforting, since it reminded her of her own college accommodations.
Danny did a lap in the room, eyeing the thrifted books stacked on the desk and the mess of makeup on the dresser. “If you’re up for it, we can hit the road tonight. If we leave in the next couple of hours, we’ll get to my place by sunrise. It’ll be nice to see.”
After her day, nothing would make her happier than getting out of DC as soon as possible. Energized, she grabbed a suitcase and began emptying her closet. From the corner of her eye, she watched Danny study a photo hanging above her desk.
Five smiling faces stared back at him, posed in front of the Philosophy Library at Adams College.
The campus building was a favorite for graduation pictures, thanks to its Greek-inspired columns and tree-lined courtyard.
Every year, April kicked off a mad dash of seniors trying to squeeze in photoshoots at the storied spot, with friend groups battling for territory until commencement in mid-May.
Morgan led their crusade by hiring a local photographer and coordinating the best time for optimal sunlight. Grad pictures were serious business for Morgan, and she wasn’t going to let the group turmoil affect the timeless snapshots.
Given how they embraced with locked arms, how they smiled from cheek to cheek, how the sun shone on their matching dark blue stoles …
She succeeded in hiding the true tension of the moment.
In front, Cam and Morgan balanced precariously in block heels, hunched in a sorority squat. Together, they created inverse images: Cam wore a summery white dress and kept her hair down; Morgan wore a stylish white jumpsuit and tied her blonde hair up.
Behind were the guys, matching in white shirts and black pants.
Danny stood in the middle, his dark hair freshly trimmed, his cheeks rosy.
On his left, Drew Petrelis practiced his typical smolder, both his olive skin and his blue eyes sparkling in the sunshine.
On his right, Cory Calhoun gave a charming smile, his tightly coiled curls cut short, his brown skin radiant.
The five of them were inseparable. Fall semester freshman year, their prickly microeconomics TA placed them together for a semester-long project, inadvertently forming their close-knit group.
For three and a half years, they shared a picture-perfect, movie-worthy friendship.
Until Cam and Cory ruined it by breaking up the March before graduation, putting an end to a romance dating back to sophomore year.
Their split sent reverberations through their friend group, creating fractures that lingered years later. Sure, they took grad pictures together. Sure, they had a group chat. Sure, they saw each other a few times a year.
But after the breakup and the awkwardness that followed, the friendship between the five was never the same.
“I’m touched,” Danny said. He grabbed the frame, along with another featuring Cam and her parents. “We made the family portrait wall.”
“Obviously.” She zipped up her suitcase, leaning across the hard plastic for a short break. “You guys were my family.”
“Were?”
“You know things are different now.” Break over, she grabbed a plastic bin from beneath her bed.
“We’re all spread out. I’m in DC, you’re in Rhode Island, Morgan’s in Europe, Drew’s in Boston, Cory’s in New York …
We barely see each other. Before today, I hadn’t seen any of you since Morgan’s going-away party in September. ”
Their communication varied, too. Cam and Morgan texted nearly every day, despite the time difference.
She and Danny usually interacted on a weekly basis, although their conversations were sometimes composed exclusively of photos of Reggie or FaceTime calls discussing her worst encounters on the Metro.
With Drew, Cam could go weeks without hearing from him and then find herself sucked into a two-hour phone call discussing whatever reality show they were watching.
Then, there was Cory. For years, he was one-fourth of her favorite people. Now, most of her contact with him was relegated to updates shared by the others and his gray bubbles in their waning group chat.
Whenever Cam looked at their graduation pictures, her chest constricted. The weight of the last four years was heavy on her, a lingering reminder of how much everything had changed.
And even though her logical side knew Cory was as much responsible for their breakup-induced friendship woes as she was, Cam couldn’t help but place the blame solely on herself.
Maybe it was because she was a chronic worrier.
Maybe it was because she was a woman. Or maybe it was because the aftermath hit her harder, since she had much more to lose than her unfairly, irrationally perfect ex-boyfriend.
While she face-planted into unemployment with an arrest record, Cory was living it up in New York City, making tons of money working at Hawkins Shaw, one of the top investment banks.
“You and Morgan were joined at the hip before she left,” Danny said, tucking her books into the plastic bin, “and I see Drew monthly. He uses any excuse to spend the weekend getting drunk at Beau’s and sleeping in my spare room. In fact, he’ll be down for Memorial Day to celebrate his birthday.”
Cam grinned, recalling the drunk Drew she’d spent many college nights with. “Well, I hope I get to see him.”
Within the hour, her stuff was packed and loaded into the car. Everything she owned fit within two suitcases, two plastic bins, and a backpack. She was proud about the lack of junk, until she remembered how much of her stuff was stored in her childhood bedroom.
On their last trip inside, she circled the messy apartment. “I won’t miss this place.”
“You didn’t enjoy a Super Senior year with the kids?”
“They were fine,” she insisted, despite nearly tripping on an empty can of hard seltzer. “Most of the time. But their semester is ending so they’re partying more than usual.”
“We can have our own party at Beau’s if you miss this. Now, let’s get moving!”
Under the blanket of night, they left DC, hitting the highway to the same mix of songs immortalized in their college memories.