CHAPTER ONE
Take a right, walk one block down, then make a left and walk until you see it. I glanced down at the directions on the Post-It, turning over the yellow square of paper to examine the makeshift grocery list that my dad had also scribbled down. I crumpled it up and shoved it into my pocket with a small scoff. As if I didn't know how to get around town. I did live here for the first thirteen years of my life, Dad. I thought to myself as I glanced up at the bright yellow 'Kash and Go' mini-mart sign. I felt for the bundle of cash in my pocket before pushing the door open and wincing at the obnoxiously loud bell chime. Upon entering, my eyes were drawn to the tall redhead that sat at the register, boredom clear in his slumped posture as he sluggishly completed what looked to be math homework. He glanced up at the sound of the bell and I widened my eyes in shock as I caught a glimpse of his face.
"Ian?"
"Collins?" I paused for a moment, reeling slightly from his use of my childhood nickname.
"It's Rory, now." I barely had time to say the words before he had hopped over the counter and engulfed me into a bear hug. I stumbled back a bit, letting out a slight grunt from almost getting the wind knocked out of me. The last time I saw him, he was a scrawny twelve-year old, following me and my friends around. He had grown, far taller than I had thought he would, and from the feel of his arms, had bulked up.
"Fuck, Ian. You been taking steroids or something?" I felt his body shake with laughter before he pulled away, a lopsided grin overshadowing his face.
"Nah. This is from ROTC." He pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and flexed his arms with an exaggerated groan. Ian struck a pose, and then pressed his lips to his biceps. "The gun show is a-this way." I couldn't do anything to suppress the large bundle of laughter that released from my mouth as I pushed his arms away.
"Don't get cocky, Gallagher. I can probably still kick your ass." I yelled over my shoulder as I began to scour the aisles for the few groceries that my dad had requested. I muttered them under my breath to myself as I walked. Chips, bananas, water, bread, peanut butter. My dad was a simple guy.
"Man, when Lip sees you, he'll shit his pants. How long has it been – two years, three years?" Ian called from his resumed position at the register. I stiffened slightly at the mention of him, and felt a pit in my stomach grow as I anticipated the question that he would ask next.
"Where the hell have you been, anyway?" I fell silent and grabbed the remainder of the groceries before heading back up to the register, plopping them down with a small sigh. "You kind of just… disappeared. Without any explanation." My teeth sunk into my bottom lip and I scrunched up my nose slightly, squirming underneath Ian's inquisitive stare as he rung up my items.
"It's a long story, Ian. Not exactly easy to explain." My voice had dropped notably – both in its cheeriness and volume. I shook my head a bit, not meeting his eyes and not exactly in the mood to dump all of my problems out onto the floor of the mini-mart. He went quiet at my conclusive tone, and we stood in an uneasy silence as we exchanged the cash from my pocket with change from the register.
"Are you going to go see Lip?" He asked me after I had gathered my things in a plastic bag. I took the bags in my hands and looked at him, and even though I smiled, I knew I couldn't do anything to mask the inevitable twinge of sadness that worked its way into my smile.
"It's not really fair of me to just jump out on him like that, you know? I don't really have a place in his life anymore." I recalled when I had returned back to Chicago and visited my dad's house; only to find that my dad had a stack of letters from Lip, circa three years ago when I had left. I hadn't opened them yet, but according to the variations of my name that he had used (it had gone from 'to Collins' to 'read this you fucking piece of shit'), I didn't expect pleasant things.
"Come on, Lip's not one to hold a grudge." Ian tried futilely, and a snort escaped from my mouth before I could do anything to stop it.
"Yeah, right." I shook my head, taking a step towards the door, but Ian quickly hopped over the counter and blocked by path, giving me an uncharacteristically serious look.
"A grudge for two years? Even he can get over that."
"Don't think so." I made a move to sidestep him, but he mimicked my step.
"So you expect me to keep this from him? Act like I didn't just encounter his missing best friend in a convenience store?" He paused for a moment, and his tone grew more urgent. "Let you go without knowing when or if you'll ever be back?"
"Yeah, pretty much." I said with a small huff, refusing to look him in the eyes as I made another move to get past him. This time, his arms grabbed my elbows, keeping me in place and forcing me up at him. His eyes bore back into mine - green and pleading. I felt my chest tighten - an overwhelming feeling of dread - before I relented and gently shook his arms off of me.
"I swear, you Gallaghers will be the death of me." I mumbled under my breath as I fished the Post-It from my pocket, snatched a pen off the counter, and resisted the urge to smack Ian's triumphant smile off of his face. I scribbled down my number on the small space that was left on the piece of paper, circled it, and tucked it between my two fingers. My eyes glanced down at Ian's open palm, and I arched my brows up at him.
"I'm up at Lake Forest, with my aunt. Not supposed to be back in the South Side. If my aunt picks up my phone for some reason, just act like a snobby douchebag from Lake Forest, yeah?"
"My name is Wentworth Moneybags, and I'm looking to take Miss Aurora Collins out on a date." Ian said with a horridly posh accent. He stuck his pinky out and used his now-open palm as an imaginary tea saucer, sipping a cup of air and obnoxiously slurping. He smacked his lips and looked at me with a wicked grin. "Tea's a little too lukewarm for my taste, but it'll do."
I clasped a hand over my mouth to muffle my loud guffaw, but it hardly did anything. I ended up laughing loudly anyway, and I struggled to regain my breath as I glanced down at his outstretched palm.
"After that horrible performance, Wentworth, I don't think that I can give you my number anymore." He stuck out his tongue and snatched the paper from my fingers.
"Too bad, because I'm taking it anyways." Before I knew it, he had scooped me up into another tight hug. This time, I reciprocated it gladly. "Good to have you back around, Collins - I mean, Rory."
TWO YEARS LATER
"Hey, meeting in the floor's common room. RA wants a few words with all of us." A girl with sandy brown hair ducked into my dorm room, and I gave her a small, grateful smile before turning back to put the finishing touches on my side of the room. My roommate, Claire, returned from the bathroom, and together, we headed to the common room. Having arrived late, we joined the outskirts of the gathering of people who were circled around a person, who I assumed was the RA.
"Long story short: just don't be a bunch of fucking idiots and we'll all have a great year. Dismissed." The voice finished, and the people around us began to clamber back to their dorms. Claire and I stayed back for a moment, waiting for the crowd to disperse so that we would actually be able to see what our RA looked like. Once we had caught a glimpse, she decided to head back to the room. I had told her that I would catch up with her later, but in truth, I wasn't able to move or take my eyes off of who was standing in front of me.
"Can I help you?" He had turned around to use the wall to fill out a few forms, and I suppose that he sensed my presence. He put the cap back onto his pen and pushed the forms messily into his jacket pocket before whirling around to face me.
"Lip."
