Chapter 3

3 San Francisco Spots to Visit Before You Die

I stare up at her in a mixture of horror and disgust. Amy. Her vibrant red hair matches the color staining her cheeks. Her eyes flash; body is coiled like a snake ready to strike.

"Dani…uh…you remember Amy?" Mark says weakly.

"Oh, she remembers me," Amy spits, "because I'm just that awful."

I think fast, not wanting to put Mark in an even more awkward position.

"Amy, no!" I declare, "I said lawf-"

"Oh, Dani, I don't actually care what you said," she interrupts with a sneer, " because no matter how you feel about me, I still got what you want."

My jaw clenches; the muscles ache from clamping down. I spare a side-glance at Mark, who is looking at the ground like he wants to fall through it. He puts a hand on Amy's shoulder while avoiding my stare.

"Let's just…grab a drink, huh, Ames?"

Amy looks back at Mark like he's an afterthought and I feel a spark of anger. Mark always treated Amy like gold in college, yet she always treated him like a pet. A neglected, abused one at that. With one last glare she takes a seat next to Mark. She turns to Horatio with a big, condescending smile.

"I'll take a Manhattan, please," she tells him.

"Actually, " Brooke speaks carefully, "Horatio's shift is over".

Horatio frowns, but puts his hand out in a sweeping gesture towards the bar.

"It's fine," he assures Brooke, "Mixology is my craft, and I'm happy to share it with a friend…like person".

Behind the bar Horatio is a master. He grabs a bottle of vermouth and a bottle of blended whiskey, but before he can pour one, single drop, Amy interrupts him.

"Horatio," she says in know-it-all tone, " a real Manhattan would use rye whiskey. It's not as cool as you hipsters like it, but you can't go wrong with a classic, right?"

"Classic is classic," Horatio agrees, "but I found this great little spirit at a local distillery-"

Amy's nostrils flare. She stands up and steps behind the bar. Horatio stares at her as if she slapped him.

"If you're not going to make my drink my way, I'll just do it myself," she replies, "You do know I used to be a bartender, right?"

"Yes Amy, we know," Cole rolls his eyes, "but you're in Horatio's zen space."

"He'll get over it," she snaps as she grabs rye whiskey off the shelf.

I frown and stand up at the counter.

"Amy."

She looks at me as if I'm dirt beneath her feet. I take a deep breath and say what I need to.

"You're out of line. Horatio knows his job. For you to sit there and undermine him-"

"Dani, Dani, Dani," she says with a sigh, " I see you still haven't learned to mind your own damn business."

Mark lets out a small, suffering noise resembling an injured animal and puts a hand to his head. Out of pure shock I say nothing, but I look around. Everyone looks incredibly uncomfortable, but no one says anything. Amy continues rummaging through the bottles behind the counter. After mixing her drink to her liking she returns to the proper side of the bar. With an unceremonious sigh she plops down in Mark's lap. He looks at her in surprise.

"Oh. Okay," he quips, "so I guess this is happening."

After a long sip, Amy squints in Sereena's direction. Sereena glares back at her.

"So….Ree," She says smartly.

"Don't call me that," Sereena retorts. I can see the ire etched on the lines of her face.

"Relax, it's cute!" Amy waves dismissively, "Ever figure out what you want to do with your college education?"

"Amy," Sereena says it slowly, dangerously, "I'm a grad student. Not an undeclared freshman. Getting my Master's degree is what I want to do."

"Well, there's time yet. I'm sure you'll accomplish…something, "Amy quips, "Oh and…did you ever call Carol?"

It wouldn't take a genius to see the mounting anger on Sereena's face. She looks ready to explode, and honestly, I want to see it.

"As much as I appreciate you nosing into my private life, she's not my type," Sereena retorts.

"Bull-shit," Amy exclaims, "you both like… well, you know…the same things…"

"You mean we both like women?" Sereena counters.

Sereena stands up, hands clenching into fists. As soon as Brooke sees this she places herself between them.

"Sereena, I'm sure Amy was trying to be helpful in her own, misguided away," Brooke reasons.

"Awww…Ree you're so lucky you have someone like Brooke," Amy coos, " she's so motherly".

The look on Brooke's face goes from weary to annoyed. She puts a hand on her hip and squints her eyes.

"Motherly?!"

That's pushing the limit. Now I stand up and put a hand on Brooke's shoulder. She keeps her steely eyed gaze on Amy.

"That's too far, Amy," I say firmly, "You might as well wrap her in a shawl and call her 'Granny'".

Mark, actually sweating, tries to extricate himself from Amy's embrace, but she presses closer to him. He looks at her, clearly upset, and talks quietly.

"Ames, maybe we should…excuse ourselves? Call it a night?" he suggests.

"But Marrrrrrky…"

Her whiny, pouty voice hits my ear like nails on a chalkboard. It makes me twitch and makes my hair stand on edge. I can continue to deny it and let the annoyance build, but it's plain and simple.

I hate Amy. HATE.

"Amy," Mark mumbles, "come on, we talked about this. Let's not do this here in front of my friends."

Amy looks at him in outrage.

"NO, LET'S," she raises her voice, " after all, all of our fights are about you choosing your damn outcast friends over me! And now that she's back…it's going to be worse!"

Under Amy's withering glance I don't waver. I stand there, refusing to blink; refusing to back down. But inside, I feel for Mark. So out of this sympathy I open my mouth.

"You think Mark is choosing me over you? Well, guess what Amy? It's not just me – it's all of us. Have you ever asked yourself why he spends so much time with us without you? Maybe it's because you're getting on everyone's last nerves?"

A tangible tension fills the room. Only Cole has the etchings of amusement all over his face. Not Amy. I can tell she's irate. Her face is flush, her eyes flash, and she takes a menacing step towards me. She leans close and looks me dead in the eye.

"WHAT?"

"Dani, don't-" Mark starts.

"No. She has a right to know the truth," I say, "it's clear that everyone tolerates her for your sake. But we are not the problem."

Cole swivels on his stool, rubbing his hands together in pure glee.

"Oh my God, why doesn't the bar offer popcorn as a snack?!" he exclaims.

When she sees I will not back down, Amy grabs her purse in a huff. She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes.

"I will not do this with that, that…" she screws her face up, "bitch here. Not for her viewing pleasure."

Behind me Sereena makes a noise of outrage. I put my arm out to stop her from charging past me. Mark looks up at Amy in a mixture of panic and sadness.

"Amy," he starts.

"DON'T, Mark."

Without another word she turns on her heel and walks out of the bar. Mark stares after her like a lost puppy. I hate it. He should never have to feel that way with anyone. Cole looks up at all of us, and then back at Amy's quickly disappearing body.

"BYE FELICIA!" he says with a raise of his glass. I elbow him and shake my head.

"Mark, I'm sorry," I apologize, "I just couldn't stand by-"

"It's fine," he interrupts, "It's just…this is bringing back bad memories of college. I need to go and clear my head. I'll catch up to you guys another time, yeah?"

Before any of us can say anything to him he slaps a twenty down on the bar and leaves. I look around in confusion.

"What…was that?!" I ask.

"Another rerun of the 'Mark and Amy Show', " Horatio explains, "only this week it had a guest star – you".

"Shouldn't we go after Mark?" I inquire with a frown.

"Normally, I'd let him blow off steam," Cole considers, " but tonight is different. Tonight I'm afraid he's entering Pattern 3."

All around me I see a wave of nodding heads. Pattern Three? I look questioningly at Cole and he lets out a sigh.

"Mark a creature of habit," he begins, " As his roommate I've picked up on all of his patterns- there are precisely nine of them. Patter three is when Mark goes off on long bouts of introspection and soul – searching."

"Oh…my…god, " I mumble.

Cole was absolutely right. I hadn't thought of it in his terms, but his observation was scarily accurate.

"It's a vicious cycle," Brooke murmurs, "and we need to help him break it. We need to find Mark."

"Where?" I ask them, ready to help my friend.

"Hard to say," Sereena ruminates, "He's roaming the city, for sure. Last time we found him visiting the sea lions at Pier 30. "

"Seven days in a row, " Horatio adds.

I grab my purse and hoist it over my shoulder. As I head for the door, I call back over my shoulder.

"Well, it's a big city. Let's get moving."

One thing is for certain. Anyone who truly knows Mark knows that, while he is a creature of habit, he is complex. Though he is in Pattern Three, no one can be certain of where the pattern will play out. We each speculate, and we each share our thoughts.

Our quest to find Mark begins with Cole. He leads us to the 404 lounge; one of Mark and Amy's favorite date spots. Instead of searching for him though, Cole uses it as an opportunity to hit on women. And men. After a slap to the back of the head, and admittance of defeat, we decide to explore Horatio's thoughts.

Horatio leads us to a quaint tacqueria in the heart of San Francisco. He sings the praises of El Grullense Tacqueria and treats everyone to tacos. When I ask him how this relates to Mark in any way he simply replies, "How can we search with our bodies and souls unnourished?"

None of us can argue with that. We place an order and as we eat Horation strikes up a conversation with me.

"Dani," he says quietly, "Why is Amy so hostile towards you?"

I frown and put down my taco.

"She wasn't always," I confess, "I actually met her before I knew Mark. We lived in adjoined dorm rooms and she was fine then. In fact, we used to go shopping together and take weekend trips. But all of a sudden I was best friends with her boyfriend and I guess she's been jealous eve since."

"Could it be that the feeling is mutual?" he questions.

I chew thoughtfully before answering.

"Were you asking if the hostility is mutual? Or the jealousy?"

"Both are good questions to ask," he murmurs with a wise nod.

I flounder through a defense and finally give up. I can't say Horatio is wrong. Somewhere, deep down, I always felt jealous of Amy. I know that was the start of the virulence. However, it continued to grow as Amy's treatment of Mark deteriorated.

When we finish eating we turn to Brooke and Sereena's suggestion. Brooke tells us that Mark has a key to their apartment – that he crashes there when Cole has company. We head there on foot and Sereena lets us in. No Mark to be found. As I insist we keep moving, Brooke stops me. She suggests we search the spacious bedrooms, the walk in closets, then roomy bathrooms…and it becomes apparent that this stop is not about Mark. This is about convincing me to move in. While I am impressed by what I see I scold them for wasting time. With the promise of revisiting the subject we head back down to the street. Frustration is visible on all of our faces, and I know mine shows heavy lines of concern.

"I don't get it," Brooke shakes her head, "where could he be?"

"At this point, anywhere," Sereena mutters, "there are plenty of places to get lost in this city."

"Yeah, but I refuse to believe tonight he'd choose a random place…Wait."

It dawns on me as I say the words out loud. The creature of habit. In a familiar stressful situation. There's only one place he would go. A small smile curls my lips.

"Twin peaks," I declare, "I know he'll be there. Follow me".

The others are winded in their attempt to keep. When we get there they follow me to the top of the hill and start looking around. My eyes sweep the benches going up the walkway. When I see him, sitting alone, a wave of relief washes over me.

"He's right there," I say with a sigh.

"How'd you know he'd be here?" Brooke asks in wonder.

"Back in college this is where he would come to write in his poetry journal," I tell them.

"WAIT," Cole practically shouts, "Mark wrote poetry?"

I ignore Cole and look at each of them in turn.

"Do you mind if I talk to Mark alone for a bit?"

"Be our guest," Horatio says with a gesture towards the bench.

As I walk toward him he doesn't even look up. I know he senses me there. His posture loosens up a little as I sit beside him. Mark takes a swig of his flask and then wordlessly offers it to me. I take it from him and sip on the whiskey. Cringing, I hand it back.

"I can see why you always loved this spot. It's so beautiful," I say.

Mark still doesn't respond.

"Mark," I start softly, "I'm so sorry about earlier. I didn't want to upset Amy, but I couldn't sit by and watch all of that. In the end it's sort of my fault."

"No," Mark finally speaks, " it's not your fault. These issues with Amy have come up before, even when you were in New York City. It'll be fine once I apologize."

"Is that really what you want to do?" I ask him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" I take a deep breath, "maybe she needs space. Friends are part of the relationship package. You guys have been together for years, and she still doesn't get along with your closest friends. Doesn't that say something?"

"Dani, I'm not blameless in all this," Mark tells me with a frown.

"Sure, but you're always the one who ends up apologizing," I counter, "Shouldn't she say she's sorry every once in a while?"

"Maybe…"

I look at Mark and find him looking at me. He gives me his rueful smile.

"Dani, you don't have to stay," Mark murmurs, "I know I'm not the most fun to be around when I'm in a funk."

"You mean Pattern Three?" I tease.

"Where did you hear about….Dammit, Cole!"

Mark crosses his arms and pouts for a moment. Even pouting he looks perfect.

"We've all got our habits, Mark," I reason, "and we all have different sides to us."

"Yeah but," his voice turns sheepish, " I don't want you to see this side of me."

"Are you serious right now?" I exclaim, "I've already seen every side of you! Don't you remember that you were completely naked when I first met you?"

Beside me on the bench he starts to blush. A silence falls between us, leaving time for me to reminisce. I met Mark at the start of college, in the most unusual of circumstances…

Freshman year. My first class. I was in a lecture hall; nervous about what lay ahead of me. I sat back in my seat and took a deep breath; looking around as people wandered in through the door. While people file in to the rows I lean my head back and close my eyes.

BANG

Suddenly the lecture hall doors at the other end of the room burst open, causing me to jump. Then, a scene unfolded that I can hardly grasp. Dozens of guys rush in.

Naked.

And that's when I saw him. Tall, muscular, with a mess of coppery brown hair. Handsome features, a great smile; something intangible that made him stand out. The guys ran down the aisle, amidst laughter and cheers from the students in the hall. After a triumphant lap through the room, they jogged out through the exit…except for him. He stopped right by my row; looked down at me and smiled. I found it very hard to concentrate in that moment.

"Wait," he said, "Is this Professor Vazquez's lecture on American Lit?"

'Uhhh, yeah," I cleared my throat, "it is."

"Awesome."

The guy slipped into the row behind me and took a seat. Several girls around us giggled uncontrollably.

"Isn't part of streaking, you know…running away?" I asked him.

"Yeah, sure, normally," he agrees, "but I really can't afford to fail this class. I've gotta at least stick around and sign the attendance sheet."

"Sign the attendance sheet with what?!" I said in alarm. A plethora of naughty thoughts crossed my mind. Then again, who wouldn't think that way with such a perfect naked body in front of them?

"I don't suppose I could borrow a pen?" he asked with a sly smile. Yep. Attractive. Very attractive. I searched my bag and handed one over. My mind had run over the millions of reasons why he'd be naked. Was this a prank? A rush activity? A team hazing? Then I made the mistake of looking at those abs again and my mouth opens before I can think.

"I have to ask: do you work out?"

Way to make myself obvious. Still, he looks down and back at me, ready to answer.

"Yeah, I do. Just in case someone dares me to go streaking through a lecture hall," he jokes with a wink, "and thanks for noticing."

"Trust me, " I replied, "it's hard no to."

As I blush over my inability to filter what I say, he extends his hand to me. I take it.

"I'm Mark," he says with a grin.

"Dani," I tell him.

He held on to my hand long after he stopped shaking it. His thumb moved over mine and made something in my stomach clench.

"What in the world…OUT! GET OUT!"

A stuffy looking professor wearing an ascot and brandishing his umbrella spotted Mark as soon as he walked in to the hall. Mark's eyes went wide and he looked at me in mild alarm.

"I think that's my cue," he whispered, "Guess I may fail this class after all."

"Not so fast," I stopped him, "I can always send you my notes."

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Sure thing. Here's my number."

Now, normally I'd tear out a sheet of paper and write it down or pen it on the back of his hand. This was different. A lovely naked body right in front of me. So I stood up and pulled the cap from my pen. Then I brought the pen to his chest and slowly wrote the numbers. Mark let out an audible gasp as the tip moved slowly against his skin. As I finished the last digit I ran my finger across the dry ink and watched him bite his lip. I reluctantly pulled my hand away.

"You know," Mark cleared his throat, "you could've written it on my hand, right? It'll be damn near impossible to read this now."

"Oh I know," I agreed, "This was 100% for me…but don't tell me you didn't like it just a little".

"AHEM!"

Before he could answer we spotted Professor Vazquez heading up a parallel set of steps – eyes blazing while he stared us down. Mark looked at me as he headed out of his row.

"I'll call you later, Dani," is all I hear as he jogs down the steps and out of the room. My gaze follows him; I continue to glance at the door with a small smile throughout class.

I come out of my daydream and find Mark smiling at me.

"Up in your head again?" he teases.

"Lost in a good memory," I answer, " I knew I could snap you out of Pattern Three."

"I can't believe Cole told you about the stupid patterns. I'm gonna kill him!

From across the walkway we hear Cole huff.

"I heard that!" he exclaims, "I'm so flattered that you gossip about me when I'm not around."

Slowly, the group gathers around the bench. Sereena snatches the flask out of Mark's hand and takes a swig.

"I was just telling Dani about the many ways I am plotting your demise," Mark grumbles.

"They say to turn the other cheek is the unforeseen response, " Horatio muses, "that's a vengeance he'd never see coming."

"Umm….hello people," Cole looks at us with raised eyebrows, "I'm right here."

"Personally, I've found that ignoring him can be really effective," Sereena shares.

To prove her point she reaches over Cole without so much as blinking and hands Brooke the flask.

"Oh, so funny you guys," Cole sarcastically mutters.

"Hmmm did you guys hear something? Like a whisper dancing on the wind?" Horatio asks.

"Nope! I don't hear a thing!" Brooke answers.

"I think you're imagining things, Horatio," I jump in on the fun.

"Okay, seriously?!" Cole declares, "this isn't funny!"

"I beg to differ," Mark responds.

Everyone slowly turns and looks at him. Cole's mouth falls open.

"Wait a second…Mark, smiling?" Coles says in disbelief, " He's back to Pattern One! I repeat, he's back to Pattern One! That has to be the fastest recovery time ever!"

"Shut up, Cole," Mark says, but he's smiling. I can't help, but smile too. This is the Mark that I remember; the Mark I've missed the past few years.

When he looks at me, I feel warmer, more content. I scoot over to make room for Brooke and feel Mark's arm go around my shoulders. I look out at the lights; taking in the events of the evening. What started as a subpar date has evolved into a reunion and the introduction of new acqaintances. I feel grateful and more importantly, at home again. It's a feeling I lacked in New York.

"I have an idea," I share, "we need to document this occasion: The rare moment we broke Mark free of his patterns."

Mark elbows me.

"How?" Brooke asks.

"A selfie!" I exclaim matter-of-factly.

At mention of the word everyone moves together. I pull out my phone, but pause when Mark presses particularly close to my side. I clear my throat and hold my cell out as far as I can.

"Alright, smile!" I exclaim. I count backwards out loud; three, two, one…

The flash goes off and soon after I look at the picture. All happy smiles. The record of what will hopefully be great friendships.

Suddenly, from his pocket, Mark's phone buzzes. He pulls it out and checks the message. Shock washes over his face.

"Oh my God," he murmurs.

"Let me guess," Cole groans, " Is it the succubus?

Sereena slaps the back of Cole's head, but Mark doesn't respond. He reads the message intently, and shakes his head in confusion.

"What is it?" I ask, though I do not want to know.

"It's Amy," he breathes, "she…she apologized for everything. Literally everything. Including being rude to all of you. She…wants to talk."

My heart sinks. I don't need to say anything because I know his mind is made up. He's going to talk to her. And even though he should not he will end up apologizing and convincing her that it's his fault despite her message. I sigh.

"I suppose you're leaving then?" Horatio asks, disillusioned.

"Guys, I'm sorry," Mark says, standing, "I owe her this much. We need to figure this out."

"Actually, you don't" Sereena fumes, "but you'll let her get away with this anyway. I guess we'll see you later."

Mark avoids eye contact with me. He stares at the ground at my feet and mumbles one last thing to me.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" he says. I just nod, and watch his feet carry him away. I know he's gone when Sereena sits in the spot now vacant because of Mark. From behind me Horatio puts a hand on my shoulder. Beside me, Brooke grabs my hands and pats it.

"You going to be alright?" Cole asks. This time, there's no air of humor in his voice. He frowns, concerned.

"Yeah," I say quietly, "I just wish he realized he deserves better."

"We all wish that," Sereena adds, "but … I have a feeling with you here… it might happen sooner than later."

"We all hope that, anyway, "Horatio agrees, " the cub must realize he is ready to be a lion."

"Horatio, " Cole shakes his head, "not now, man."

Everyone falls quiet for a bit. We look at the city laid out before us. I think of the opportunities ahead – both professionally and personally. For the moment I push thoughts of Mark and Amy from my mind. I look at each person around me in turn. Cole – with his sense of humor. Brooke – with her compassion and kindness. Sereena – determination and purpose. Horatio – wisdom and peace. They are people with qualities that, combined with my own, make a powerful and pleasant atmosphere. They make a complete picture. I do not know them well, but I can already sense a solid friendship in the works.

"I'm very pleased to meet all of you," I finally say.

Cole smiles in a knowing sort of way and nods at me.

"Right back at ya, Dani"