JEN HAD AN IMPRESSIVE VIEW of downtown Chicago from her second-story desk by the window, but the knot of nerves in her stomach made it impossible to fully appreciate it. She had made it through the first few hours of work and hadn't catastrophically messed anything up just yet, but there was no telling how the rest of the day might go. She'd just narrowly avoided bumping her coffee cup over with her elbow and making a fool of herself in front of everyone, not to mention damaging expensive equipment.

You've got this, she repeated to herself. You deserve this. You earned the right to be here.

Being the only woman under twenty-five at Walsh & Associates Law Firm was a little intimidating, to say the least. All of the other interns were boys, and to make matters worse, the vast majority of them were seniors whereas Jen was just a sophomore. Landing a position in the IT department of a prestigious company was an impressive feat for any student, much less a girl who was still an underclassman, so she was shocked when she received her letter of acceptance in the mail. Had they mistakenly sent it to the wrong applicant? It seemed so unlikely that they would want her that she nearly hadn't bothered applying, but her faculty advisor had nudged her to do it and reminded her that she had nothing to lose.

And here she was. She was so scared of screwing up that she thought she might vomit, but beneath the fear, she couldn't help but be extraordinarily pleased with how life was shaping up for her. She got to work with cutting-edge computer equipment, people-watch from her little desk that faced the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and had already met Victor, the well-known and highly-regarded lawyer who co-owned the firm and was now technically her boss, though he'd have extremely little to do with her day-to-day activities. Interacting with him was perhaps the part that she'd been most nervous about, but he surprisingly wasn't quite as intimidating as one would expect someone in his shoes to be. That wasn't to say he wasn't intimidating at all, but he was polite and at least gave off the impression of being human, which was more than she could say for some of the other people around here. He kept pictures of his wife and daughter, who Jen gathered was maybe five years or so older than herself, on his desk. That frankly might have been a mere tactic to get his clients to trust him, but even so, it was much more tolerable than speaking to someone who was as stiff as a robot. She managed not to botch her introduction with him, and he wished her good luck with her internship.

As long as I do really well, she thought as she was leaving his top-floor office. I can ask him to give me a letter of recommendation for my next internship.

She was determined not only to be the first girl to graduate from the Computer Science program at her school, but to also be the first one in her grade and major to land a full-time job. All the boys would be so jealous.

That dream was starting to look more like a reality, and she was starting to feel invincible.

Her ego was taken down a notch (or several) when her mom showed up to have lunch with her.

The interns were given forty-five minutes for lunch and Jen intended to run down to the little cafe on the corner and grab something light. She didn't remember telling either of her parents what her exact schedule was, so she was nothing short of horrified when she took the elevator down to the first floor and saw her mother waiting in the lobby for her.

"Mom!" she hissed under her breath, frantically glancing around to see if any of the other interns were watching. A couple of them had also come down to the lobby, but neither of them seemed to be giving her any of their attention. "What are you doing?"

She smiled shyly as her daughter approached and it was impossible not to notice that she had dolled herself up for the occasion. She wore a long, navy blue coat and had curled her dark hair even though it was under a fur-brimmed hat. She looked like a beautiful starlet plucked straight out of the '40s, but Jen knew that her mom worked tirelessly to be able to afford buying such luxuries just once or twice a year.

For some reason, neither Jen nor her dad questioned it when she suddenly acquired several more luxurious clothing items in the weeks and months to come.

"I couldn't help myself from coming to see my girl on her big day," Mom smiled. "I thought I could buy you lunch."

Jen was blushing, but she couldn't exactly turn her mother away. Woods Crossing was an hour-and-a-half drive each direction, so she didn't have it in her heart to send her straight back.

"You can buy me lunch," she agreed in defeat. "But let's go—I don't have very long."

Maggie Adler's curls bounced in the winter breeze as they walked down the block, her cheeks stained red like cherry apples. She looks a little bit like Snow White, Jen thought. Some days it truly felt like Mom was waiting for some magical kiss to rescue her from her dull life. She enjoyed her job selling makeup simply because it allowed her to escape Woods Crossing and drive to different towns each day, and it was always in the city that she looked the most alive. She and Jen had been saying for years that their family should just relocate to the city, but Dad wasn't ready to give up his hardware store.

Maybe Mom had just wanted an excuse to come into town today, but Jen couldn't blame her for it. She herself had bolted out of Woods Crossing like a bird released from a cage as soon as she graduated high school.

They made pleasant small talk, none of which included Dad, as they ate their flatbreads. Jen got the impression that her parents had been bickering again lately, but she never pried into it much. It had been such a relief to be freed from their drama once she left for school, so she wasn't about to insert herself back into it.

It was nice to have this one-on-one girl talk sometimes. Mom understood how hard Jen had to work for her dreams in a way that Dad just couldn't.

By the time they were walking back to the law firm, Jen was actually a bit sad to say goodbye. They had just seen each other at Christmas, but she knew it wasn't likely to happen again until spring break rolled around in a couple of months unless Mom happened to end up in town again for her job. She felt a twinge of guilt for not being excited to see her when she showed up, yet that part of her still feared giving the boys something to make fun of her for.

"You can't come any further with me, Mom," she said quietly once they had returned to the lobby.

"I know, I know," her mother softly assured her, quickly tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind Jen's ear. "I love you sweetheart, and I'm so proud of you."

"I love you, too."

In hindsight, she would wish she had let her accompany her to the second floor. Then none of it would have happened. But Jen couldn't see into the future, and the last thing she saw before the elevator doors was her mom smiling at her.

When they opened on the second floor, she nearly plowed into Victor, who must have just gotten out of a meeting with the IT manager. He politely nodded at her as she departed the elevator and he stepped onto it.

He would ride down to the lobby, though Jen did not learn this until a year later, where he would run into a beautiful woman named Margaret Adler. He wouldn't know why a woman such as her would look so dejected, but he would be determined to find out, and he'd ask her if she'd like to accompany him for afternoon coffee.

She would be surprised, but she'd say yes, and one thing would spiral into another.

Friday night was poised to be the most exciting night of the month—it was book club night.

Or, at least, it was supposed to be book club night, but their only regular besides the trio of Jude, Celie, and Jen couldn't make it because she was out of town. On top of this, Jen and Celie were the only ones who had actually finished their book, It by Stephen King, despite the fact that they gave themselves two months to get through it. Jude had been the one who suggested they try out a horror book in the first place, claiming that they ought to mix things up every once in a while, but he'd gotten spooked a third of the way through and chickened out.

Neither he nor his sister, however, wanted Jen to spend her weekend being a hermit, so they suggested she still come over for dinner. She was on her way to their place now, carrying a warm box of rolls she'd just retrieved from a little bakery a few blocks down to go with the chicken dish that Celie was preparing. Jude was shockingly bad at using an oven for someone his age, so Celie had entrusted him with the role of valiant grocery shopper to acquire all of the ingredients she needed.

Jen rang the doorbell, a small chime that barely punctured the air amidst all the other chatter that was happening on the streets. She was mildly surprised to observe that she was feeling a bit nervous, though she knew exactly where it was coming from. Jude and Celie had finally stopped asking about Robert – she still hadn't told a soul that she went to his apartment the other day – but she suspected that might start up again tonight. Those two liked to gossip more than the high schoolers.

She had been trying (and failing badly) not to think about him. The morning after she brought him food, he'd startled her by slipping a short note on her desk – a tiny scrap of paper that simply said, Thank you, Jen. She wished that it could have been a gateway to restarting their correspondence, but she knew in her heart that it wasn't meant to be replied to.

Since then, neither of them had acted like anything happened. She had half the mind to simply show up at his apartment again, knowing that he'd probably let her in and they could sit together in silence for a little while. Even if it didn't free them, even if they couldn't speak their feelings, it would at least allow them to drop the cold, distant masks they had been trying so hard to wear around each other.

So she wanted to show up again, but she didn't know if that was what he would want, and she cared about him too much for her own good.

She cared about him, so she didn't want to cause him any more hurt than she might have already done.

I didn't think you wanted much to do with me, he'd said, and now she wished she had been brave enough to correct him right then and there while she had the chance.

But, as always, doubt held her back.

Celie insisted that they should pull out the "fancy dinnerware," which apparently equated to eating off of paper plates and drinking out of cat paw-shaped wine glasses. The dinner table was also completely covered with books and paperwork, so they ate on the couch.

Jen had no complaints.

"I can't remember the last time I came over here without a book," she mused as she sipped on her remaining wine after dinner. "I have to admit, Jude, I didn't think you of all people would be the one to sabotage book club."

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture, nearly elbowing his sister's ribcage in the process. She quickly glared at him behind his back but then put on a smile that Jen knew meant she was up to no good—it was the same expression she'd been wearing when she showed up for "revenge shopping."

"Don't worry, Jen, I've already decided what his punishment should be," she declared cheerfully.

Jen would have been happier were she not mildly worried that said punishment would also involve her in one way or another. "Have you now?" she asked as Jude went slightly pale.

"Mhmm," Celie assented through pursed lips, already hopping off the couch to grab something from amidst the paper tsunami on the table.

When she returned, she was proudly holding a magazine called Hollywood Spirit. It was nothing short of atrocious-looking, with blobby, bubblegum pink lettering and low-quality pictures of celebrities plastered all over the front.

"Does that say 'Sexy Swayze?'" Jude asked in horror. Jen squinted her eyes to read the print from afar. It did, in fact, appear to be advertising a quiz that could tell you if you were compatible with Patrick Swayze. "Please don't tell me you bought that."

Celie wrinkled her nose. "Of course not—someone left it at Spill the Beans, and I now intend to use it as a torture device on you."

"I really don't need to know if I'm compatible with Patrick Swayze," Jude blurted. "Please-"

His sister rolled her eyes. "We're not taking that quiz, but I did find a game for us."

"Does it have to be us?" Jen asked sweetly as Celie plopped back onto the sofa. "I don't see what I did to deserve this."

"One person can't play alone, so unfortunately yes." 

Jen and Jude sighed in unison, but Celie was already flipping to a page in the middle of the magazine. "It's easy, though. It's kind of like reverse Never Have I Ever—it asks stuff like 'which player has had the most drinks tonight' and whoever ends up with the most points at the end wins. Some of the questions are more arbitrary, so we kinda have to debate who should get the point."

"This is dumb," Jude said bluntly. "But okay. We know that Jen has had the most drinks tonight, so we can skip that one."

"I have not!" she protested, though her body did feel rather warm.

Celie sided with her brother. "Yes you have. You're a drink ahead of us."

Jen grumbled something unflattering under her breath but held up a finger to indicate that she had earned a point.

"Which player has been to the most countries?" Celie read.

That was Jude.

"Which player has the most difficult job?"

It didn't take them much deliberation to give that one to Celie simply because hers required much more physical effort than either Jude or Jen's jobs did, though it could also be argued that dealing with high schoolers was harder.

"Which player has been on the most dates?"

That was also Jude, partially due to the fact that he was older than them and partially due to the fact that both girls were getting rather exhausted of the male species.

Celie flipped the page to see more questions. "Which player has had the most embarrassing thing happen to them?"

Silence washed over the room as the three of them thought through their experiences for a moment, and then all of the warmth in Jen's body suddenly seemed to run very cold. She was hit with a cacophony of memories – memories of realizing she had been betrayed, of trying to hold herself together and keep a straight face until she could lock herself in the bathroom and cry and ask God why he had to let this happen to her.

Celie was grimacing, and Jen immediately knew that they were thinking about the same thing. Celie didn't know everything about her, but she knew this.

"I'm, ah, I'm gonna give this one to Jen," she said a bit sheepishly, like she was finally embarrassed for making them play this game.

Jude looked puzzled, but he glanced back and forth between the girls and must have gathered that he shouldn't question it, because he kept his mouth firmly shut. Jen reached for her wine and took another gulp, no longer caring that she'd had more than everyone else.

She would have considered telling Jude if it would do anything to help right now, but it wasn't going to change the outcome of the round. She had a feeling that he wasn't going to be able to beat the feeling of having a sixty-year-old man look you in the eyes and confess that he was with your mother in his office while you were working as his intern in the same building.

At least I get the point, she thought wryly, and held up another finger.

____________________

A/N:

yikes