Chapter Seven
Day Six Hundred Ten
"Owen, I just wanted to let you know that I've made it. I'm in Seattle and I'm all settled in. Just finished my first day at the new job and I got to say, it's pretty damn awesome. Call me back when you get this, okay?
- O-C –
Day Six Hundred Twenty-Four
"Owen, this is the sixth message I've left in two weeks. I'm starting to get worried. I know we didn't leave things on the best of terms but are you going to hold it against me forever? I thought we were friends. Owen…just give me a call to let me know you're still alive, all right?"
- O-C –
Day Six Hundred Fifty-Four
"Now I'm pissed off. You have no right to give me the silent treatment or whatever it is you think you're doing. It was one night, Owen. Are you really going to let it kill a year and a half of really good friendship? This isn't fair to me and I would never do this to you. You're a jerk."
- O-C –
Day Six Hundred Eighty-Three
"I miss you. It's really fucked up that I'm in a new place where I have no one, all it does is rain here and my so-called best friend can't return my phone calls. It's really fucked up and I should hate you. But I miss you."
- O-C –
Day Seven Hundred
"I guess I need to work on getting hints sooner, huh? I get that you never want to talk to me again and I guess I'll have to be fine with that. I miss you and I wish I could hear your voice but that's just not going to happen, is it? I won't call you again. The ball is officially on your side now."
- O-C –
Day Seven Hundred Thirty-One
"I talked to Clare."
On today of all days, the second anniversary of his friendship with the girl that got away, the last person he wanted to see was the very same one that was accosting him in a bar. Especially since he was already half in the bag and had lost track of how many drinks he had actually downed. "Yeah?" he muttered, taking another sip from the highball of whiskey.
"She says you haven't been returning her calls." He shrugged his shoulders. "You know, she was worried you were dead on the side of the road."
"Nope," he confirmed, putting a pop at the end of the word.
"She'll be thrilled to know that her friend is a jackass and not a corpse. Although, I believe she'd rather have the corpse," Alli said dryly. She picked up one of the empty glasses that had been discarded somewhere along the way, wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of alcohol from the remnants in the glass. "And she might just get both if you keep it up."
Owen lifted his half-filled glass in a mock salute. "Here's hoping."
Alli sighed, taking a seat on a barstool next to him and signaling for the bartender. Once her drink order was in and a martini was sitting in front of her, Alli turned hardened eyes onto him. "Why haven't you at least texted the girl to let her know you're okay? She's in a new town, surrounded by strangers and the last thing she needs is to be worried about your ass. God, if you were any kind of friend—"
"If I was any kind of friend, what?" Owen demanded, his eyes glittering dangerously like two heated sapphires. "Don't stick your nose into business you don't know the first thing about."
"You seriously think I don't know what the hell is going on?" Alli hissed. "I know you gave into the sexual tension and slept with her the night before she left. I know that it was probably the best night of your life. You probably thought your future was all mapped out, she would stay and you'd get that fairytale ending. I know that she was torn up about leaving and cried the entire ride to the airport, trying not to call her new boss and turn the job of a lifetime down to run straight back to you."
"And if she was so torn up about it, why the fuck didn't she do just that?"
"Why should she? So you two could get married, have kids and then you could transfer the blame for your shitty life onto her?" Alli down the martini in one swallow and signaled for another. "I know you got your head so far up your ass that you can't see the light of day so let me enlighten you. You hate your life, Owen. You have a crappy job and a crappy boss and you blame the past for putting you in the situation you're in now.
"You didn't have money for anything more than a two year degree which put you in a cubicle for a company that doesn't even realize you exist. Well, except for human resources and only because they issue your bi-weekly checks. So you go in and bust your ass for some nameless face that wouldn't know you if he passed you by the water cooler. Am I getting it right so far? Poor little Owen Milligan, the man who settled for something instead of pushing for everything," Alli finished, popping an olive into her mouth and following it with the alcohol in her glass.
Alli laughed sardonically. "Clare is an amazing person. She will accept all your faults, support you until her dying breath and will even blame herself when you start blaming her for things only you can change. I wasn't about to let you drag her down. So, when she asked me point blank if taking the job was the best thing to do, I did not hesitate to say yes."
"You told her to go? She was going to stay? Why?"
"Because she doesn't deserve to have someone who is going to wind up resenting her in the long run and you don't deserve to have someone so good." Alli stood, placing a twenty on the top of the bar for her drinks. "Maybe you will one day, I don't know. But it's not going to happen by avoiding her calls and drinking away your sorrows. All that's going to do is make room for another man who knows her worth to move in. And trust me, he will move in."
Alli slipped off the barstool, leaned over and placed her lips only inches from his ear. "The truth is that I am rooting for the two of you. You could possibly be just what she's needed, what Eli and Jake and all the others lacked. Just…not right now," she whispered, whirling around and exiting as quickly as she had appeared.
When the bartender came over to refresh his drink, Owen paid the bill and walked out of the bar instead.
- O-C –
Day Seven Hundred Forty-Four
From: Clare Edwards edwardsc
To: Owen Milligan owenm1993
Subject: What the hell?
It's been almost five months since you've talked to me and your only words are a text message saying I quit. What the hell is up with that? I mean, was picking up the phone just a little too difficult? Or were you just afraid that I would pick up and want to have an actual conversation with you?
It's all whatever at this point. Just know that I'm pissed off at you and while I hope everything works out, I'm done. I can't have a one-sided friendship.
Good luck and best wishes,
Clare
- O-C –
Day Seven Hundred Seventy-One
He never thought he would be back in this place. Degrassi Community School, with its glass front and high-tech media room, was every bit as cutting edge as it had been when he walked the halls as a student. And with its yellow and blue lockers lining the walls along with the classrooms that could be in any school around the world, it was as much of a throwback to simpler times as it was modern.
"Mr. Milligan," a voice called out. Owen turned to watch the man who had once been his principal approaching, obviously aged like him but still retaining enough of his youth to make him instantly recognizable. The man who had once been the bane of his teenage existence offered a hand which Owen warily took. "It's good to see you."
"You too, Mr. Simpson," Owen replied, surprised to find that he actually meant it. Time had obviously softened him and he wasn't too certain he liked it. He cleared his throat. "Why did you want to meet with me?"
"You're not a student anymore. You can call me Archie." Archie led him to the cafeteria that was only occupied by the janitorial staff, taking a seat at one of the tables nearest to the door and indicating for Owen to do the same. "I usually have people see me in my office or meet with me over coffee at the Dot but this just happened to be more convenient."
"You're not really explaining why we're meeting in the first place."
Archie chuckled. "I guess not. Well, I wanted to speak to you about some things I've been hearing."
And there it was. The words that made him feel like he was still that teenage troublemaker being sent to the principal's office. "Hearing?" he croaked out, swallowing hard.
"I hear you've been asking around for a coaching and/or teaching position."
Owen breathed a sigh of relief. "I might have been. How did you hear about it? I haven't even tried applying here."
"Let's just say that you learn more about what's going on when you're in charge of an entire district and not just a school. And one of my former students might have made me aware of the situation," Archie replied. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "I have to ask though. Why haven't you tried to put in your résumé at Degrassi?"
"Part of it was that I figured you were still the principal and I thought I'd be the last person you'd want to hire," Owen confessed. "But most of it was that I thought Coach Armstrong still held the position."
Archie smiled. "Coach Armstrong is no longer working at Degrassi and hasn't for the last two years. He's head of the athletic division for the district now."
"Well, I'm sure his position has been filled since then."
"You would think that but no. We had a promising replacement but he went on to be the assistant basketball coach at TU at the end of last year. We interviewed multiple people since but they lacked the well-rounded skills needed to coach more than just a single sport or they weren't qualified to teach as well. So, we've had to make due with temporary substitutes for the time being," Archie explained. "To be honest, we might have to shut down the entire program if we're unable to find a permanent replacement."
No sports program at Degrassi Community School? He couldn't be seriously considering that. "And what would you be looking for in a new hire? I mean, I do have my teaching certificate but depending on the subject matter that I would need to teach, I don't know if I would be qualified."
"Coach Armstrong taught most of the health-oriented classwork as well as some of the math courses. A full-time math teacher has been hired on this year so it would be the anatomy and basic health you would be in charge of," Archie informed him. "Both of which were part of your university studies and where you excelled, if I'm not mistaken."
"You're not."
"You think you'd be able to begin October first? It'd be a bit odd starting on a Tuesday but I think a week to prepare is fair, don't you?"
"Wait, what exactly are you saying?"
"The coaching position is yours."
Owen let out a laugh of disbelief. "But don't you need to see my résumé and hear my references? What about an interview?"
"What do you think this was?" Archie chuckled and stood from the table. "If I didn't think you could handle the job, I never would have called you down here. Anyway, be here Monday afternoon around four and we'll get all the paperwork handled."
This time when Archie Simpson offered his hand, Owen was more than happy to stand and take it. "Thank you for the opportunity, Mr.—I mean Archie. But I have to ask, who was it that told you I was looking around for a job?"
"Let's just say that the world of law is lucky that Miss Bhandari chose to go into fashion. See you Monday, Mr. Milligan."
- O-C –
From: Owen Milligan owenm1993
To: Clare Edwards edwardsc
Subject: Good news
Clare
So I know you don't want to hear from me and it's entirely my fault that we don't have any type of friendship right now. But I have some news and you're really the only person I want to tell.
I got a job. It's a job that I actually want to go to every day and what's more, it's a coaching position at Degrassi. Can you believe it? I can't and I was the one who met with Simpson today.
You remember Simpson? He's head of the entire district now. I didn't even know why he wanted to meet with me, thought maybe he found out something I did when I was a student and wanted to punish me for it now. You know those old insecurities and all that garbage. I didn't even know he was interviewing me until he said that I was to start work October first.
Imagine that, huh?
Owen
To be continued…