Every String Attached | GirlxGirl

Chapter Twenty Two

Two days passed in which Shawn didn't hear from York at all. And it was beginning to tick her off.

Two days ago she had revealed that she'd learned not only some sign language, but the entire vocabulary. Surely, that should have made a larger impression than it did. Because it seemed like York was avoiding her, and after the way she acted when she stayed over, Shawn was growing worried.

She sent her a text message in the morning, knowing York wouldn't be at work yet, before she set out for a jog. Ever since meeting York, her mind was scattered. She was now full of buzzing and constant energy, and needed an output for it. Even now, after years of not doing anything remotely physical, she felt that familiar charge of reaching the first kilometre, and the freedom of running through frozen air.

When she arrived back at the apartment, panting for air that became a fog hovering in front of her mouth, she looked at her phone for the first time since leaving it found a blank screen. Zero new messages.

Shawn sent another.

8:11AM — Shawn
Do you want to go out tonight? I really want to see you.

For a reason unknown to Shawn, this message elicited an automatic response.

8:12AM — York
Sure. Pick me up at 6 at Starbucks? I'm good with wherever you want to go.

As Shawn read the message, she smiled, and breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps there had been nothing to worry about all along.

The first words Shawn heard as she stepped inside their apartment was: "Shawn, can we talk?"

Chance was in the hallway, still dressed in her pajamas. In fact, Shawn didn't think she'd changed out of those clothes for three days now, nor had she showered. Pen marks were visible along her right hand, and her eyes were bloodshot. She'd been awake the entire night studying.

Shawn frowned apologetically. "Can you wait a half hour? I have to call Thomas."

"Please?"

"He's going into work and I really need to check in on him and see how he's doing," Shawn replied.

She knew for a fact that he was doing fine. Thirteen stitches was quite a lot, but as he always had, he handled the injury like it was a minor scratch.

What Shawn really wanted to know was whether their mother was still there or not, because she had been yesterday, and the day before that.

Chance didn't respond. Her expression was desperate, and Shawn was aware of it. But she was desperate, too.

"Half an hour, okay? I promise." Shawn backed into her bedroom, aware of her heaving chest as Chance followed her.

Before Shawn closed the door completely, Chance murmured through the sliver between them, "Nathan and I are back together."

"What?" Shawn demanded, the door being pulled open rapidly. But instead of giving Chance time to answer, she added, "Never mind. Tell me about it later." Because she didn't think she could look Chance in the eye as she spoke without screaming at her.

It was not Shawn's business. Chance could do whatever she wanted—she was twenty six, and Shawn could not stand in the way of that.

But this was stupid, even for Chance. Not that Chance was stupid, but she didn't always make the best decisions. And this was one of the worst she'd made—according to Shawn—in years.

Shawn was on and off of the phone with Thomas in five minutes. Trying to keep her voice level and resolved, she asked him how he was doing, then moving onto Rachel and Nash. As the phone call seemed to be nearing an end, she subtly asked if their mother was still staying with them.