Hi everyone! Infinite thanks for your comments on the close of Part 1. I am still amazed at the traction this strange story has achieved, and I still appreciate every one of you for taking the time to read and review:)
In trying to figure out the best way to bring you this second part, it ended up growing into something even bigger than I imagined. I am so excited to tell you how it goes!
Special thanks to BL-is-love for the help and support with the nuts and bolts of Part 2. I couldn't have done this without you.
The Equation - Part 2:
The Woman from the Other Side
Chapter 1
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Thursday, November 19th, 2009
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The bathroom tiles were cold relief against her bare arms. Her face coated with a thin film of sweat, Alex lay deathly still, breathing slow and deep as she waited for another wave of nausea to pass. Her head was pounding and at the same time spinning with too many thoughts to grab hold of.
Breakfast didn't last long. The migraine is what did it – a pain that knifed straight between her eyes and left her ears ringing. Suddenly the kitchen was too bright and her stomach too moody. With her eyes squeezed shut to ward off the stabbing daylight raging in through the kitchen window, Alex stumbled down the hall – taking a right and bursting into her bedroom before realizing it should have been a left – and fell to her knees in front of the toilet. She spent good time down there, but for all the puke and pain, the one thing Alex kept thinking was jetlag didn't feel like this.
Now, with the nausea still there but with nothing to do because her body was depleted, she lay stretched out on her back on the bathroom floor, feeling like death warmed up. And the whole time something played at the back of her overwrought mind – like that feeling when you've left home in a hurry and for the rest of the day you know you've forgotten something, but just can't figure out what. But there was so much else going on in her head too, that Alex didn't give that nagging feeling much thought. More important questions pressed her, like what in the hell did Nicky do to her and why in that same hell did she leave her with Diane instead of taking her to her own apartment? Her place with her own things. Familiar comforts that would have made all of this easier. She would've been able to change into her own clothes for one, she thought, feeling even more out of place and unsettled in the old t-shirt and jeans that didn't have their usual fit.
Alex stared at the ceiling, picking out the places where the old paint was beginning to peel. They had multiplied since the last time she'd been there. Or they shouldn't even be there, now that she thought about it. Hadn't they given it a fresh coat last spring? She could've sworn there was a memory in her muddled head somewhere, of her on a rickety step ladder, scraping old paint from the cornices before giving it a few new coats. She let out a slow breath. For some reason the mundane had a calming effect on her and the tension in her muscles seeped out onto the cool tiles under her. Her head was still pounding, but at least she was no longer overcome with the urge to throw up.
Both her hands grasped the side of the bathtub for support and she pulled herself to standing. A dull snap prickled the quiet of the bathroom just as she came up straight, and she felt something shifting around her middle. Glancing up into the mirror on the door of the small cabinet fixed above the sink she could make out a pronounced bunching of something under her t-shirt. She lifted it and stared down at the bandaged binding that her labored movements had caused to come undone and pool around her middle.
"What the-?" Alex gave the bandage a light tug and watched it fall to her feet.
Her mind plummeted into its farthest recesses in a desperate effort to find the explanation for it. She had obviously gotten hurt somehow, bad enough to be strapped up. But how? And when? But there were no answers for her grappling mind to land on. She was ready to explain away her current condition to picking up a nasty bug on the plane home, made worse by a rough night out. But viruses didn't mess with your memory, did they? Even when mixed with alcohol. This couldn't be that. This was something else.
Alex twisted her torso, first to the left and then all the way to the right, as if she were testing it out. She felt nothing. Nothing hurt. And the mirror didn't show any bruising that she could see. So then why was she strapped up in the first place? Alex's thoughts landed on Nicky again, and as exhausted and sick as she felt, she knew the only way she'd rest was if she got some answers to the questions banging around her head. And Nicky was the only one in any kind of position to help with that.
It was just after 2pm when the bus crawled to a stop down the street from Nicky's offices. Alex stepped into the icy wind and immediately regretted not taking the time to check her mother's closet for something a little more suited to late fall in Boston. But once she'd had it in her head to see Nicky, she couldn't get out of there fast enough. Only stopping to pull on her high-tops and borrow some change from the kitchen counter. The beige double knit sweater Diane liked to wear before bed was strewn over the back of the couch, and Alex grabbed it as a last thought on her way out.
She hugged herself tightly, trying to block as many of the spaces that were knit into the sweater. It was a useless endeavor. By the time Alex reached her destination, puddles left by last night's rain had splashed through the canvas of her shoes, and she had lost all feeling in her hands and face. The wind had cut straight into her bones, freezing her from the inside out. Finally laying eyes on the painfully forlorn office building wedged between a book store and Chipotle, was like an oasis for someone lost in the desert. Alex quickened her pace. As she passed the restaurant, the smell of meat and spices wafted thick and heavy along the sidewalk to torture her still sensitive stomach, and made her walk even faster. Spewing her guts in public wasn't on her list of things to accomplish that day.
As she drew up to Nicky's office, a couple of women splashing across the road caught her eye. They were talking and laughing at the same time, and there was nothing extraordinary about them that should have made Alex stop, but she stood there and watched them anyway. Maybe it was because everything about them was the complete opposite of how she was feeling – their smiling faces, easy postures, clearly not weighed down by anything. Only once they ducked into the book store, in their sensible coats and boots, did Alex become aware of the cold again. Hugging her sweater closer, she blustered into the inviting warmth of Nicky's office in a flurry of shivers, mumbling obscenities under her breath and rubbing her arms to get the blood flowing again.
It was a humble setup – old devices and even older furniture secured at several close-of-business auctions – in one small open plan room with gray carpet squares right out of the 70s. There was a small pine coffee table with magazines in one corner. Four mismatched chairs were added to make it the official waiting area. Two desks were side by side on the opposite end of the room. One was a work space, with an ancient CRT monitor taking up most of its surface. It wasn't occupied at the moment. The other was a kitchenette apparently, holding a cordless kettle that used to be white, a few cups, and Tupperware with coffee, sugar, tea.
It wasn't much, but Alex knew it was everything. The first time Nicky cared about something after her last stint in rehab. And the first time rehab stuck. Alex knew it was no coincidence that those two things coincided. Nicky's youth counseling and development initiative was more than a fleeting whim, like all the other false starts she'd had at cleaning up her act. It was honest and it was good, and Alex believed it helped Nicky just as much as the troubled teens who came and went through those doors.
"Hello?" A petite, slender woman appeared at the end of the hall that Alex was meant to go down. Her greeting was intended to be polite, but Alex caught the question in it. She also caught the once-over she was getting and shifted uncomfortably. "Can I help you?" The woman spelled out the question of her greeting, her accent rooting her deep in Brooklyn somewhere.
She had perfectly coiffed dark hair and red lips that, when set against her fair skin, made her look like one of those rockabilly pin-up girls. Alex picked her for a new hire – definitely a step up from the round, middle-aged woman that used to be there, and therefore most likely Nicky's most recent significant other. It was a predictable habit of hers, and the one thing so far that Alex could depend on to remain consistent. Catching up with Nicky each time she got back from a trip meant being introduced to someone new she was occupying her time with.
"Nicky around?" Alex asked, instantly recognizing the shift in the woman's features at the mention of her friend's name. So her assumption was right.
The friendly face broke into a friendly smile. "Oh I'm sorry, our services are for under 25s only."
Alex was caught off guard by the comment. She knew she probably looked like shit, but people always commented on how young she looked for her age. Never the other way around.
"Excuse me?" she asked, trying to keep the tone of mild offense to a minimum.
"I didn't mean it like that," the woman said quickly, realizing her error. "I just meant we don't cater to the over-30s demographic." And then immediately made it worse. Her smile was still holding though, like she was totally oblivious to the fact she was being insulting.
Alex folded her arms defensively across her chest, biting her tongue against saying something that might make socializing with her later on a little awkward.
"This is a center for youth counseling," the woman continued, and walked over to the kitchenette. "Here, I'll get you a coffee to warm you up and find some numbers of places you can-" She turned around to see Alex making her way toward the hallway. It led to two offices and a bathroom, and something told her Alex wasn't on her way to go pee. "Wait!" she called after her.
But Alex had already turned the knob to the door on her left and opened it.
The scene: A young girl bawling her eyes out and blubbering incoherently while a woman sat across from her, silent and nodding. The girl didn't notice the intrusion, but the woman looked over at Alex, and after a second her eyes grew wide. With recognition, surprise maybe? Alex wasn't sure but she didn't care.
"Sorry," she apologized quickly and pulled the door closed again.
The friendly insulter from the front office was with her now, just as she turned to open the door opposite the one she'd closed. The right one this time.
"She's in session," the woman said in an exaggerated whisper to try and stop Alex.
But it came too late.
"My mom's complicated," a scruffy-looking boy was saying. He couldn't be older than seventeen or eighteen. On the chubby side with a mess of red-blonde hair obscuring most of his face.
Nicky looked up and her face immediately mirrored the stunned expression of the woman in the other office. Alex was so relieved though, it didn't occur to her to analyze the situation. That urgency that drove her through the cold and rain finally settled.
"Holy smokin' hydrangeas," the boy said, looking Alex up and down.
She brushed him off with a patronizing smile, used to warding off unwanted advances from the male species.
"Sorry, I tried to tell her…" The red-lipped woman pushed in.
Nicky rose from her chair and held up both her hands to stop her speaking. "It's okay," she said, sounding almost careful, not taking her eyes off Alex. "We were finishing up anyway."
"Sweet," the boy said, getting up. "But you'll-"
"I'll mark it down as a full hour," Nicky assured him, and gave his shoulder a little push just to speed his exit along. "Your probation's safe with me, don't sweat it."
The boy smiled gratefully, and let Nicky usher him out of the office. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Alex and sidled by a little closer than necessary.
"Okay, keep it in your pants, she bats for the other team," Nicky said, giving him a final shove through the doorway. "See him out, will you, Lorna?"
"You sure know how to pick 'em," Alex said once Nicky had closed the door.
Out of nowhere and for no reason Alex could think, Nicky dealt a thundering blow to her upper arm.
"Ow! What the fuck?" Alex rubbed the spot where it stung.
"That's for not answering your phone," Nicky said, and then punched her again, on the other arm this time. "And that's for going to that stupid show in the first place. Come here." She pulled Alex into a tight hug.
"Ugh, get off me." Alex struggled out of the death grip. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
"With me? What's the matter with you not calling to let us know you're okay? I thought you were one of them-" She choked off and, shaking her head in frustration, strode over to her desk and grabbed the pack of Marlboro's lying next to her laptop. "They said on the news the bodies were too-" Alex saw her hands shake as she lit the cigarette. She took a deep first drag and let it out slowly, careful not to look at Alex. "They haven't been able to make any positive id's yet," she said, changing tack.
"Bodies? Jesus, Nick, what were we on?" Alex asked, going to sit in one of the chairs in front of Nicky's desk, her mind tripping over itself to try and connect the scattered dots.
A deep frown clouded the concern on Nicky's face. "They checked you out before letting you go, right?" She reached out to feel her friend's forehead, like checking for a fever, but Alex swiped her hand away before she could.
"Why would I need to be checked?" Alex heard the agitation in her voice as if she were listening from outside her body.
Nicky was supposed to be clearing up things, not making her more confused and pissing her off in the process. But her questions at least gave Alex some hope. She was talking as if she expected Alex not to be okay. Which would explain the bandage she discovered that morning. So maybe the answers were there. Nicky was just being frustratingly drawn out about giving them to her. An array of emotions were playing over Nicky's face as she watched Alex.
"I woke up feeling like dog shit, and these aren't my clothes. Can you just tell me what we did last night?"
Nicky shook her head slowly and stubbed her half-smoked cigarette in the glass ashtray that was almost overflowing.
"Let's go next door," she said, going around her desk to grab her coat. "We can get a decent cup of coffee and-"
"No." Alex stood up and walked over to wear Nicky was pulling on her heavy tweed coat. "I don't want coffee. I want you to tell me what the hell happened, and why in fuck you had to leave me at Diane's."
"Where do you think you were?" Nicky asked then, fixing a deep red scarf around her neck.
Alex groaned, raking her fingers through her hair in frustration and turned from Nicky to take up pacing the length of the floor in front of her desk.
"I wouldn't be here asking you if I knew, Nick." She gave a defeated shrug and buried her hands in the pockets of her jeans. Her one hand brushed against something small and smooth, and even though she couldn't think what it might be, she started picking at a corner of it. "Everything's so… mixed up. I keep hitting blanks when I try to think of certain things." She looked at Nicky for help, but the woman just stood there with an expression of what looked like sympathy. Alex shook her head in an attempt to straighten the jumbled thoughts in it. "I figured we hooked up to party, as is customary when Kubra gives me some time off." She lowered her voice at the end of her sentence, keeping the decibels on the name decidedly minimal out of pure habit. "But now I'm starting to think this is more than just a bad hangover."
Nicky took a steadying breath and moved slowly back around her desk in silence, past Alex, and to the door to her office. "I haven't seen you in three weeks," she said, and then turned to face Alex from the open doorway. "And what's Kubra?"
The coffee bar was set up in back of the book store, but the smell of quality beans fetched Alex all the way at the front door. She instantly felt home, and memories of her spending way too much time in the cozy cocoon of books and coffee filled her up. The guy behind the book counter acknowledged her with a nod as she passed, and she nodded back.
"No reserving your spot today, I'm afraid," he said, motioning at the packed store.
"I'll take it up with your manager later," Alex joked, and looked around to catch up with Nicky, who was already deep inside.
The place was brimming with people looking for shelter from the cold, with most of the leather sofa nooks taken up by either readers or conversationalists. She followed Nicky as they wove through the room to the last few available chairs and tables set up near the barista. Frozen to the bone just a few minutes ago, Alex felt the warmth of the wood paneled walls, second-hand book smell, and rich acoustic music wrap around her like a heavy blanket.
She pulled off her sweater and hung it over the back of her chair before sitting down. It was disconcerting – feeling so familiar yet so strange and unsettled at the same time. Surrounded by sights and sounds of home, but feeling like she didn't belong. It was painful trying to make sense of it. Nicky had stopped to order, but Alex was beginning to think that maybe they should've gone somewhere licensed instead. Somewhere she'd have a little more privacy for the impending mental break she was clearly having.
I haven't seen you in three weeks
The tiny hairs on the back of Alex's neck prickled, the sensation creeping all the way down her spine. All of a sudden she wasn't so sure she wanted any answers. She felt like she was out at sea without a life raft. And the sea analogy was perfect, considering her symptoms that morning and how similar to being seasick they were. Her head started to hurt again. She looked over to where Nicky stood waiting for their coffee, chewing the nails on her one hand, the fingers of her other tapping restlessly on the counter. And then the strangest thing happened.
Alex's mind that was full to bursting a second ago went inexplicably black. Empty. She fixed on the tapping. Nicky's fingers moving independently to their own private rhythm. It was like a kind of hypnotism the way it calmed the storm inside her. The first time since waking up that she felt even remotely okay.
"Are you gonna be using this?"
The trance was broken, and Alex blinked stupidly at a strange man holding onto the empty chair opposite her.
"What?"
"The chair," he said. "We're short one over there." He pointed to the table behind Alex, where his friends were already seated.
"Oh, sorry. My friend's just-"
"Keep it in your pants," Nicky appeared suddenly, holding two cups of steaming coffee. "She bats for the other team." She shouldered the flabbergasted guy out of the way and sat down, sliding Alex's drink toward her.
"I have a girlfriend," he said, a little flustered and more than a little insulted.
"Then I suggest you go to her."
Alex rolled her eyes, feeling embarrassed. "He was just asking for the chair," she said, shooting the poor guy an apologetic look as he walked off.
"My bad." Nicky took a hesitant sip from the piping hot cup. "You can't blame me though. Nine times out of ten the situation is what I thought it was."
Alex shook her head, chuckling softly, and took a sip of her coffee. Grimacing, she made to switch their cups.
"I think you got these mixed up."
Nicky held onto her coffee. "White, two sugars, exactly like mine," she said, surveying her with a puzzled look.
Alex lifted the cardboard cup and checked the boxes on the side. All the wrong ones were ticked. She placed the cup slowly down again, twisting it between thoughtful fingers. She'd shared thousands of coffees with Nicky over the years, always black, always no sugar.
"Okay, I'm gonna be straight with you, kid," Nicky started, and Alex looked up. "I think we need to get you to a hospital." Alex immediately started shaking her head no. "Maybe you took a knock to the head or-"
"No," Alex said. "I would've been able to tell."
"Then someone must've spiked your drink at the show."
"What show?" Alex asked exasperated, palms pressed flat to the table between them, her voice strained from the effort it took not to shout it out at the top of her lungs. "You keep talking about it, but I don't know what that is."
"The pop-up gallery gig in Hyde Park," Nicky explained slowly. It was pretty clear that she was disturbed by the fact that any explanation was even necessary. "Some guy you met in Sao Paulo wanted two of your prints as part of his show. So you went there instead of coming home. You don't remember that?"
"My prints…" Alex lifted her glasses onto her head and massaged her temples. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry or have herself committed to an insane asylum.
Nicky wasn't sympathetic to her struggle, and kept going. As much as Alex was going through whatever she was going through, Nicky was dealing with her own kind of turmoil. It was in her voice and all over her face when next she spoke.
"Alex, six bombs went off there yesterday. The park. We thought… Your mom kept saying you were fine. That she'd know if anything were to happen to you. But you weren't answering your phone and we all thought-"
"Three weeks ago I was in Paris," Alex said quietly, not wanting to hear Nicky talk anymore. Wanting instead to give a voice to the runaway thoughts in her head. Like saying it out loud would help solidify the jumbled fog-like images in her head. "You didn't see me three weeks ago. I haven't been home in almost a year," Alex's desperation over the whole situation was becoming harder to hide. "And what would I be doing at some gallery in London? Can you not hear how insane that sounds?" She straightened, looking around to see if anyone else picked up on her raised voice but was relieved to see everyone around her was engrossed in their own lives.
"You think I'm the one who sounds crazy? Try seeing this from where I'm sitting. I mean, you're saying some weird shit, kid. Like cobra. Cobra giving you time off. What the fuck is that? You haven't had a boss in your life."
Alex would've laughed if it wasn't so goddamn crazy. Never had a boss? There were times when she wished it. Maybe it was Nicky who was losing her mind. Her last stop was Berlin. She could've sworn it was Berlin. Fahri's PA/fuck buddy had botched the booking and Alex was forced to share a double room with him. That definitely happened. She could still smell his socks if she concentrated hard enough. Of all the blanks her memory was hitting, that wasn't one. She recalled her time there with crystal clarity. Alex burrowed into it, indulging in the feeling of knowing something for sure… The room at the Westin Grand, stopping for drinks at Newton and Fahri's face when she ordered Macallan on his tab, the huge marquee with Derek's pictures, taking off her shoes so she could feel the grass under her feet, the atmosphere in the park once the-
"No." Alex shook her head again. "That's not what happened. I wasn't there." Is this what losing your mind felt like?
It had to be some kind of transference. She probably saw the story about the bombing in that morning's paper, and her mind took care of the rest by planting some kind of false memory.
She looked over at Nicky for reassurance, and found her friend going through her cell phone instead of paying attention to her meltdown. Alex was too stunned to say anything, so waited the few seconds it took for Nicky to find what she was looking for. She held up her phone for Alex to see, and if stunned was what she was a second ago… Alex stared at the phone, unable to speak, barely managing to breathe past the lump in her throat, the solid floor seeming to shift and tilt beneath her feet.
"But I wasn't there," she said again, but with way less conviction than before.
Nicky tapped the phone's screen to bring up the time stamp on the photo message: Yesterday, 13:07pm.
Alex shook her head in disbelief. Her own face was grinning broadly back at her from the photo. A selfie snapped in front of a fountain. The frame captured parts of it – two bronzed people holding hands as they danced in the water. Alex recognized it instantly. The Joy of Life fountain. In Hyde Park, London.
Nicky took her phone back and studied the picture closely. "You sent this to me a few hours before it happened. How are you here and totally fine," she looked up at Alex, "when you were obviously there when those bombs went off?"
Alex said nothing. Gooseflesh broke out all over that had nothing to do with being cold. Her brain felt like it was caught up in an electrical storm, slowly being fried from the inside out. There were these flashes, constant threads of several things coming at her all at once and in a muddled mess. She was in London at the opening of Derek's show. In Berlin closing a deal with one of Kubra's top clients. Two of her own prints on display. Kubra wanted her to handle the deal personally. She's an urban photographer. She's a smuggler for an international drug cartel.
Nicky lives in Manhattan.
No, Boston.
Her mother wants to meet for dinner.
No.
Her mother is dead.
"I think a hospital is a good idea," Nicky said, taking hold of Alex's trembling hand.
But Alex pulled away from her. "I said no."
"Alex-"
"They won't find anything." And for some reason, this was the only thing Alex felt deadly certain of in that moment. Whatever was wrong with her wasn't going to show up on any tests.
It wasn't drugs and it wasn't jetlag. Or a virus, or a hangover…
Where before, the lazy acoustic music was background to Alex's turmoil, the lilting notes of Mazzy Star's Fade Into You jumped out at her as it started up, filtering through the book store and the chaos inside her. She felt her heart rate spike the moment she recognized the song. It was like the height of her fear and confusion reached a peak in perfect timing with it, bundling up everything she was feeling into downright panic.
"I have to get out of here." The table shuddered from the force of Alex shooting out of her chair, and Nicky had to grab hold of their cups to keep them from spilling over.
"Alex, wait."
But she couldn't. Outside was the only thing she cared about. Getting out into a space where she could catch a breath. She didn't care how cold it was. In fact, cold was what she was after, because in here it felt like she was suffocating. Alex made for the front door with determined purpose. She couldn't breathe, let alone think a straight thought. So caught up in it all that she didn't realize she was about to collide with someone at the coffee counter until it was too late, and the woman's scalding order was all over her shirt and the floor around them.
"Fuck, that's hot," the young woman said, trying to adopt a position that would keep as little of her t-shirt from touching her as possible.
"Shit, I'm so sorry," Alex muttered, grabbing some napkins from the counter and dabbing at the stained MIT print on the woman's chest.
Girl, Alex's brain corrected her, not woman. She didn't look a day over 21. And when she looked up at her face to double check, Alex immediately placed the smile and perfect teeth. She was one of the women Alex saw crossing the street outside Nicky's office a few minutes ago. And being close enough to see the exact blues of her eyes, smell the feint hint of almonds on her freshly washed blonde hair, Alex also realized there was a good reason the sight of the girl crossing that street made her stop in her tracks. The dabbing became awkward.
"It's okay, we were both distracted," the girl said. "It's Thursday - I should've been on the lookout for charging patrons." She laughed lightly, and Alex found herself suppressing something similar. "I got it, thanks." She gently took the soaked napkins from Alex, their fingers glancing in the motion.
"Sorry about the shirt," Alex offered a meek apology. "I'll pay for a new one. How much do I owe you?" She went for her back pocket, where on a normal day, she'd have found her wallet.
Finding it empty only reminded her how completely not normal this day was. Reminded her that now wasn't the time to be noticing pretty girls in book shops. Something twisted in her stomach, and Alex felt that familiar wave of nausea roll in from somewhere in the distance.
"It's fine. Really," the girl said, picking up that something was kind of off with Alex and wanting to give her a break. "Not like it's a limited run NerdWorld that was only available online for twelve hours before disappearing into the realm of missed opportunities. If you missed it, that is."
"Excuse me?"
The woman nodded at Alex's shirt. "Sorry, I'm geeking out over your shirt. I wasn't part of the lucky one hundred that day, and seeing it just brought up a lot of unrequited emotions I wasn't ready for."
Something sparked in Alex's mind then. The t-shirt wasn't hers. And there was a limited quantity out there. If she could track down who it belonged to, she might be able to piece things together.
"Are you okay?" the girl asked off Alex's silent consideration.
"I'm fine," Alex lied. "I just- have to go. You?"
"Fine," the girl said with a wave of her hand.
"Sorry. Again." Alex forced what she hoped looked like a smile of apology, before hurrying off. A slower pace to avoid another collision, but no less determined than before.
More determined, in fact. Now that she had a solid place to begin figuring things out.
