Chapter 5

When I returned to work, it was already well pass three o'clock and my limbs were freezing and numb. My "good friend" Rouge apparently forgot that she had abducted me and left me stranded. And the walk back from the near-winter wonderland left me more bitter than I was before.

If that was possible.

"Where the hell were you?" I should have been glad that Clarissa was saying this. But I merely hung up my coat before regretting the decision and putting it back on.

"Oh, you know," I said, fighting off the sneeze tickling the back of my nose. "Just being abducted by Rouge." I sat down at my desk. Heard whispers from some of the other co-workers. I should have silenced them with a death look, but I didn't care anymore. And I didn't want to add 'bitch' on top of 'slacker'. This was my first-day progress. "What did I miss?"

"Not much, I guess." Clarissa said, twisting a strand of her hair. "Boss-man said the work load will either increase or decrease because of the holidays, you know with suing and higher suicide/homicide rates, and that you have to be prepared to come in less, more, or at odd hours. No overtime."

"Crap."

"But we do get a nice break off during the holidays." Clarissa said, sliding into her own chair. She reached from a shelf next to her, spilled a stack of files onto my desk. "So abducted by Rouge, you say? Why didn't you bring me?"

"Trust me, I had little say in the matter." I started flipping through the files, felt my brain pulse in pain, from stress. "I have to read all of these?"

"And determine which cases are your strong suits and will be better cases for the company to take on."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah, I'd help you sort through them, but my eyes are already bleeding." She shook her head. "Private company stuff sucks. It's all paperwork."

"And all pay." I reminded her. "Remember that I can still help you with your—"

"Nope," Clarissa held up a hand. "It's all about principle." One of the associates, a hare this time, barked for someone to get him coffee. And by someone, I'm pretty sure he was talking about one of us. "Coming!" she said, before turning to me. "Looks like you might need some too."

"Please."

But there was something else I needed that now seemed impossible to obtain.

I exited the dark office building around seven, with cases of civil infractions and patents for Christmas presents swirling through my brain. I was the last to leave, which probably upgraded me to slacker bitch-office slut, but I was pretty sure the boss snuck out before I made it back in. Good to know some people had lives.

But the moment I reached my car and started driving, new thoughts replaced the corporate ones. Like if Rouge was actually telling the truth. Or if I had any right to be disappointed. It's not like I didn't go on any dates in law school. Of course, most of the time they were double dates to make sure Clarissa' didn't go overboard, but I didn't do anything. Yes, nuns everywhere would be proud of me—I had renewed my membership to the chastity club. But what was I waiting for now?

Was I going to die alone?

When my cellphone started ringing, I knew that at least one person on earth cared about me. "Clarissa?"

"Hey, Amy," she said. "Meet me at Avalon's Tavern. It's outside of Merriment Plaza, on the corner of Main and Nubia."

"Okay."

I heard some laughing in the background before the phone cut off. I shook my head. Clarissa was adjusting better than I was. But I guess she was the better person. She had real problems, yet she rarely complained about them. I had minor annoyances that constantly weighed on my shallow mind. I'm surprised she hadn't disbanded from me like the others.

"Calm down," I said aloud, as I pulled into a parking space. "No worries, no problems." I chanted this as I walked out of the car, saw Clarissa's a couple spaces over, and entered the bar. No worries. No problems.

I allowed a smile to grace my face as I spotted Clarissa at the main bar. The space was eclectic, modern, but warm.

"Hey, bestie," I said, trying to be friendly. Well, friendly-er. "What's up?"

"Everything," she replied, laughing. Almost snorted out her drink on the table. "This bartender is hilarious! Here I was, bored out of my mind waiting for you to finish—I probably should have actually waited for you to finish—until I stumbled here. Half-priced drinks. They know my weakness."

"Who?"

"Hello, little lady."

Honestly, I was beyond tired of unexpected encounters. But what was I expecting? I spun around completely, greeted a man I had not conversed with in two years.

"Why hello, Phil." I put on a brighter smile than I had earlier, and I was afraid he'd see through it. Again, he looked the same. Same ash fur. Same knowing look that I wish could solve all of my non-existent problems. But something didn't fit. "Wait, when did you—"

"Open this place?" He finished for me. He shrugged. "Right after I retired the stand a few years ago; actually Parker bought it for me."

"Seriously, w-why'd you let him go?" Clarissa said, downing the rest of her drink. If it weren't for the fact she was getting more intoxicated by the second, I would have given her a death glare.

"Even Parker still wonders sometimes," Phil continued. "He just stares blankly into space, wondering where he went wrong..."

"Please don't joke about that Phil." I sat down on a stool, remembered that as happy as I wanted to be, my happiness seemed dependent on factors that were out of my control. I mean, Shadow was dating someone? I shook my head, pushed the thought as far away as I could. "And you shouldn't have let her drink so much."

"My apologies." Phil said, drying a glass with a towel. "Your friend looked like she could hold liquor. But I guess looks can be deceiving."

"Rarely," I said with a sigh. Was I to expect that Shadow would remain alone forever? He took a chance on relationships before; it would be weird if he never tried again. It's not like I was special or something.

I patted Clarissa's back as she leaned her head on the table. "Maybe I went to far..." she said, groaning.

"You know we still have work tomorrow, right?"

"Fuck."

"But tell me," Phil began, sliding a drink down the table. "How are you doing? It looks like the years have treated you well. What's this new job I hear about?"

"I'm fine, I guess. And I work at a private law firm with this one." I pointed a thumb at the semi-conscious girl. "You know, if we don't lose our jobs for poor conduct." I already had a strike on day one. I sighed.

"You don't seem fine." Phil slid me a drink. I took a sip, pushed it back. Ginger Ale. "At least not emotionally."

I would have felt affected by his words, but Phil was an expert reader—it was practically in his job description. A job I'm surprised he hadn't over grown.

"How's Parker?" I shouldn't have asked this, but that was the root of all of discussions: Amy and the bachelors she was constantly chasing off.

"Great, actually. Took over the practice he was working for and is one of the heads at the gynecology wing at the regional hospital. Makes over a million a year."

"That must make his partner happy." I shouldn't have said this either, but I knew what he was trying to do—boast the son he subconsciously wanted me to be with. Why did all of this seem like a sick game? And why was I the only one who had to play?

"Still single." Phil scratched his head, gave me a slight look. "Hate to sound like a mom, but I'm eager for some grandkids. My daughters are still in college."

"Do you really think we'd make a good couple?" I said, swirling the straw in my beverage. "Because I wouldn't want to date me."

"And it's that attitude that's gonna keep you single." Phil set a glass down hard on the table. He didn't seem angry, but the clatter of the glass was loud enough to draw attention from the flock of bar goers. It wasn't embarrassing, but I could feel my cheeks heat up, my throat tighten up. I looked down at Clarissa. Still motionless.

"You sure?" I pushed. "Because I'm pretty sure happy-go-lucky-Sonic-loving-Amy was still alone. Not only that, I was also ignorant. So don't pretend that I haven't made any progress."

"I'm not saying that." Phil shook his head. "I just don't like this attitude."

"What am I supposed to do then?"

Phil's gaze softened, but I refused to see eye to eye with him. "Parker and I are not compatible. So I would really appreciate it if you'd stop alluding to him."

"I'm just trying to help you."

"Well, stop." I rose to my feet, dragged Clarissa with me. She started mumbling about cake. "I've matured. I can take care of myself."

Phil sighed before shrugging. "Then you should have no problem with the life you're creating for yourself. I wish you all the best."

I should have thanked him. Apologized. But something snapped inside me, something vile and ugly that confirmed that I did have a problem. However, I couldn't let him know. Not anyone.

So I just left, heard him mumble something about me and deserving something. He had it wrong though.

I didn't deserve anything.

Yes, it was my self-depreciating attitude (and my self-depreciating attitude alone) that was going to make me a spinster. Yup. But in order to get work done, I buried these thoughts as I continued the very fun job of organizing court-files.

It had been like this for about two weeks, bringing cases to the associates and ensuring that my coworkers didn't think I bummed my way in or anything with my hero status. But what was mostly surprising was how I was able to avoid the gang. I talked to Sonic occasionally by phone. And I hadn't been abducted by Rouge since that one encounter.

Good. I guess I was losing my appeal. Another quality to add to my apparent spinster-ness.

"Wow, you're really good at organizing the files," one of the coworkers said, a middle-aged panda named Pauline. "Been here ten years and the patent cases still take forever."

"They're a pain in the ass," I replied. "You just can't read them as critically as a lawyer—you have to take them for originality. Makes you wonder why we bothered going to school for this."

"If you get the promotion it'll all be worth it." The woman laughed. "Looks like your friend may he a strong candidate as well."

"Yeah." Great. Competition. Didn't people know that I had absolutely nothing to care about?

"Pick up the pace," Clarissa dumped some more files on my desk. "You'll have to look at mine for me. Mr. Hare wants me to handle a civil infraction on the scene. Holiday issues. Remind me when it's January." She sighed before waving goodbye.

"She's on fire," Pauline said, rising from her desk. "But that won't stop me from taking my lunch break. Want anything?"

"No, but thanks." I had lost my appetite weeks ago. Just like I was losing Clarissa to the corporate ladder. She needed a promotion more than anyone—deserved it more than anyone. But that didn't mean that I wanted to lose my job either. "I'm swamped."

"Suit yourself."

That was an honest response, but it was a trigger. Despite the fact that even I was getting annoyed with my mental complaining and bah-humbugging, it seemed like I was the one digging my own hole. Worse than that, I didn't know where the hell I was digging toward.

"Just work," I told myself. "Very soon you'll get out of this office—deal with other people's problems."

Yes, all I needed were distractions. Then I could survive.

"Hey, Miss Amy," Secretary Jim said, approaching me. "Mr. Ferret wanted to see you." He walked off as fast as he came, but not before winking at me. Fighting the urge to read into things (like if I really had been delegated as office slut), I rose from my desk and strolled over to the office as discreetly as I could. I almost tripped twice in the twenty-foot walk.

With an inhale, I rattled on the door.

"Come on in."

"Okay."

Mr. Ferret motioned to the chair across from him. I sat down, tried not to be an open book. "Uh, what did you want to see me for? Have I done something wrong? I'll work harder."

Smooth.

"No, calm down." He swayed his hand in the air. "I just wanted to talk."

I blinked. "About what?"

"How do you like working here?"

"I like it a lot." True, I was up to my sockets in paperwork but it was the holidays. And the paperwork allowed me to work overtime. Which meant less opportunity to see my 'friends' in public.

"Tell me, what are your plans tonight?"

"My plans?" My gaze retreated to the small calendar on his desk. December 7th. Friday. "Uh, nothing?"

"You sure?" The brown ferret raised a brow at me. I looked down again, conflicted. Was he trying to ask me out or confirm that I really was a loser? A beep from my cellphone shattered my thoughts.

"Sorry," I said, peering down at the device.

Clarissa: Guess who invited us to dinner?

"I guess I have dinner plans," I said, shuffling the phone back into my pocket. "Any reason?"

There was a slightly relieved look on his face. "No, just wanted to see if your story linked with hers."

I blinked at him. "You mean Clarissa?"

"Indeed," he replied. But he couldn't hide the slight blush on his face. I knew that expression too well.

I blinked at him again. So it wasn't me. "Do you like—"

"I like a lot of things." He shrugged. "Keep up the good work. I'll expect you won't be working over time with your plans. But that's fine. Have a nice evening."

"You too."

I left the office feeling confused as always.

"You didn't tell me where we're meeting them," I said as Clarissa drove. Honestly, I had no idea how I got in here. Or when I agreed to come. Why did my friends practice kidnapping as a hobby? "Or who we're meeting."

"You've met them before."

"Wow, that narrows it." I rolled my eyes. But I was mostly trying to hide my dread. The only person I could think that invited us was Sonic. And I could deal with his family. But I didn't know if I could deal with their other guests—they had to be inviting the others. I shook my head. "Look, if Blaze or Cream or any of their significant others are there, I'm paying back by telling our guests EVERY embarrassing thing about you. Starting with the time you blowed—"

"Stop!" Ironically, Clarissa halted the vehicle. I peered out the window, saw Sonic's house. I wish I could say that it was a sight of relief, but it merely confirmed my suspicions. Now all I needed was Blaze to come out and set me on fire.

"We're here," Clarissa said after a while, her voice sing-songy.

"I know." I pushed open the door. "Let's get this hell over with." I smoothed out my dress, walked forward even though I should have been running in the other direction.

"Wow," Clarissa said, wrapping her arm over mine. "I can't believe I'm having dinner with the Sonic the Hedgehog."

"Yeah, yeah." I rang the doorbell, felt the same rush of dread return. With a sigh I tried to expel my tension. I mean, so what if all of the others were there? So what?

I was sorry for what I had done. Now, I wasn't going to apologize for it—it's not like I killed anyone. But that didn't mean that we all weren't capable of moving on.

"Hey, girlies." Sonic stood under the door frame with his usual lopsided grin. "Nice of you to finally join us."

I wrinkled my nose. "We're early and you know it." I turned to Clarissa. "Stop drooling and give him the cake."

"Good to see who's the man in this relationship," Clarissa replied before giving him the dessert. "Not that we're gay for each other or anything."

"No judgment," Sonic said. "Come on in."

It was the first time that I had been in his new house. From bachelor pad to modest mansion, I couldn't admit that I was partially jealous. Everyone had made homes for themselves.

"Where are the babies?" Clarissa said as we crossed the large foyer.

"Sleeping." It was Sally who said this. Like Sonic she seemed frozen in time—no baby weight or anything. In fact, between the kids and being a fitness trainer, she was both skinnier than me and looked like she could kick my ass. She smiled at us. I contemplated whether or not it was fake. "It's like the bigger they get the more of a handful they become."

"What, no maids?" Clarissa said like a curious child questioning everything.

"Just a day nanny." Sally rubbed her hands on her apron, since she was also the expert housewife of life. "Come to the living room. We're still waiting on the others."

My heart stopped. "And by others you mean..."

"Everyone." Sally then gave me a confused look. "Why?"

"Stop making her sweat," Sonic said, shaking his head. "Just Knuckles and Rouge. Unfortunately, they're the only ones who wanted to come."

"That doesn't surprise me," I said, taking a seat on the leather sofa.

"I was just joking, geez," Sonic said, flipping the flat screen to some sporting channel. "You're lucky Clarissa puts up with you."

Clarissa responded by giggling like a fool.

The soccer match then stole Sonic's attention and whatever was left of Clarissa's brain. So I took it upon myself to drift out of the room. The place was large with sky blue walls, dark wood floors and contemporary furniture wherever there wasn't an award from Sonic or an article about Sally on the wall.

I took a deep breath, gazed at the group portrait in the hallway. I couldn't tell when it was from—it was casual, at a park or something, and everyone was in it. Even Shadow. Though he didn't look happy. But that wasn't my fault.

Right?

My feet found the kitchen, where Sally was pulling something out of the oven. I walked up to her. "Need any help?"

Truthfully, I had no idea why I was offering. It felt like a sorry attempt to fix the problems I created. I didn't really know where I stood—just that I hadn't crossed her as much as the others and that Sally had gotten better at hiding her distaste over the years.

"Nah." She shut the oven, placed what looked like bread rolls on the counter. "Go relax with the others. Did you want something to drink? Sorry, I thought Rouge and Knuckles would be here by now," she told me, scratching her head in a semi-shy manner.

"I'm fine," I replied, trailing my fingers on the granite counter tops. "I was just losing brain cells watching the sports game."

Sally smiled wider. "I hear you. You'd think I'd be more of a sports fanatic. I mean, I have an athletic apparel line." The squirrel girl moved to the stove, began stirring a pot of stew. "You should come to one of my classes at my gym. It will help you relax."

"Who said I'm not relaxed?" I shrugged. But I knew that denying my tension confirmed it.

"I don't know," Sally replied sarcastically, moving to the pantry. "Have you talked to the others? I'm sure they would argue against you."

"Well, that wouldn't be new." I pouted.

"How long are you going to remain pessimistic about everything?" Sally's glare was on me, icy and unflinching. I wanted to feel troubled by this, but part of me was surprised she hadn't snapped earlier. I was right about her fake friendly facade.

"I'm not trying to be," I admitted. "It's just that—"

"Have you ever thought to consider that maybe everyone does forgive you? Or at least couldn't care less anymore?" She folded her arms together, like she was a teacher reprimanding a child. "I don't even remember where all of this hostility is coming from. Just reach out to the others and get over it."

"Get over it?" I considered before shaking my head. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is." Sally sighed. "Look, we're all living pretty content lives. I'm married. I have two wonderful little boys. And a career that makes me very happy."

It felt like Sally was rubbing her awesome life in my face until she took my hand into hers, squeezed it. "What would I—what would the others—have to be mad about?"

Before I could respond a catchy chime filled the air.

"Looks like Rouge and Knuckles finally made it." Sally smiled, started for the front door. "Add some more pepper to the stew, okay?"

"Alright."

Let the fun begin.