Fiona swallowed deeply as she paid for the coffee she had purchased. Stepping outside of the café, she walked down the streets of Toronto, praying that she could find the right way to tell Imogen she was sorry. The last time she had felt this awful was when she was rejected by Holly J.
She didn't know what it was about Imogen or why she felt so badly, she just knew that she had to right the situation as quickly as possible. There was something about the younger girl that Fiona couldn't quite pinpoint. Something that made her want to crawl on her knees and beg for forgiveness until she accepted.
As she entered the caf, Fiona stopped and leaned against the frame to the door for a moment to stare at Imogen. The girl looked positively silly wearing oversized overalls, her hair pulled back in her usual buns, yet something about her also made Fiona take a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. It was just the nerves of not knowing whether she would accept her forgiveness, right?
Pushing herself off the frame, she proceeded towards Imogen, prepared to face the anger of the short, brunette who was un-tin foiling the caf.
Imogen pushed open the door of the shaft elevator that led her to Fiona's floor. She could hardly believe what a turn around the last few weeks had been. After forgiving Fiona for the tin-foiling mishap, she and Fiona had become inseparable at school. When their life skills teacher had them pair up for their house project, Fiona instantly chose Imogen, a far cry from the beginning of the year.
At lunch she had suggested that Imogen come over to her apartment to begin the project, and here she was about to enter casa Coyne. Her nerves had been on over drive since Fiona had suggested it. It was one thing to be friends at school, but to be invited to her apartment? She knew they needed to work on the project somewhere; however, she assumed it would be the school library.
Her arms ached from carrying the ply wood necessary for the walls. By the time she made it to the front of the wooden door of Fiona's apartment, she nearly dropped the boards on her feet. Lifting her arm, she gently knocked on the door.
"Coming!" she could hear a frantic Fiona from within the loft. The sound of rushed footsteps followed by a yanking of the door and a disheveled Fiona greeted Imogen.
"I'm so sorry," Fiona began, as she pulled open the door for Imogen to step inside, "I started to run out after school to pick up the concrete, but then I laid down to take a nap and the next thing I knew it was almost 6, so I had to run out and grab the concrete mix-"
"Wow…" Imogen cut Fiona off, as she stepped inside her apartment, only half listening to the other girls babble.
Fiona tilted her head and stopped mid-sentence. "Wow?"
"Your apartment… you have this all to yourself?" Imogen asked, studying the décor of the living room.
"Yea… I do. Sometimes my mother is here, but not very often. Most of the time she is in New York working on the foundation." Fiona finished.
Imogen turned to face the girl. Most people Fiona's age would be glad to have a place all to themselves and away from their family. But as Imogen studied Fiona's face and tone, she realized that Fiona didn't feel the same. Her face appeared pained for a moment, before she turned away from Imogen.
Imogen took a deep breath, and glanced towards the kitchen. Not wanting to soil the mood, she skipped into the room full of stainless steel appliances and solid oak cabinets.
"What kind of food do you have? I'm starrrrvinngg!" Imogen end her sentence overdramatically, pretending to collapse over the granite counter.
Fiona giggled from behind her. "Well, I'm not sure what you enjoy, but I have some caviar," Fiona pulled out the can and shook it lightly, "and frozen crepes, and also some day-old sushi." Fiona gave a half grin and shrugged.
Imogen lifted her eyebrows, "Wow, sounds like you're prepared for a zombie apocalypse!" She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
"Hey, don't judge me! I can't help it that I have no cooking skills outside a microwave; you can thank that silver spoon I've had in my mouth." Fiona said matter of factly, turning back to the fridge and pulling out the boxed crepes.
"Crepes it is!" Imogen said with a laugh, "You do know how to use the microwave, right?"
Imogen turned away from Fiona as the other girl busied herself with preparing the crepes. Curiosity had taken over Imogen, and she began pulling open different cabinets to see what was stored inside. Most were empty, which for some reason made Imogen feel empty as well. While this apartment seemed like a home to Fiona, the kitchen itself was very telling as to how she truly felt. Ordering out every night because no one was around to share a meal had to be lonely.
Imogen reached for a small cabinet on the side of the sink, to what looked like a bread cabinet, only to find a bottle of champagne inside. Unsure of what to do, she stood there for a moment, examining the bottle, shocked that Fiona would have a bottle of alcohol in her loft.
The microwave went off, and Imogen heard Fiona shout "Done!" She quickly turned around, with the bottle in hand to face Fiona.
Fiona turned to hand Imogen her plate, "And for you-" but stopped upon seeing what was in her hand.
"Why do you have this, Fiona?" Imogen asked quietly, staring down Fiona from atop her glasses.
Fiona sighed and put down her plate, "I-" she started to answer defensively to the question, but Imogen watched as the Fiona face slowly shifted from determination to defeat.
"I don't know. I guess I just keep it in case." She said, swallowing.
"In case what? Fiona, you know better! This is like asking for a relapse!" Imogen felt her own anger rising as she stared at Fiona. The girl had worked so hard to become sober, and yet she kept a bottle in her house 'just in case'? Imogen also felt angry at the thought of Fiona relapsing at all. She wanted to know where this frustration was coming from, but she couldn't figure it out.
"It's time to get rid of this, Fiona, don't you see? If you ever have the urge to drink, call me. Don't sit at home by yourself and stare at a bottle!"
Fiona stood there, staring at Imogen, giving her a powerful gaze that she had to pull herself away from.
"You would do that for me?" Almost a whisper from Fiona, "No one has really offered that route since Holly J. left." Fiona said, staring sadly at Imogen.
Imogen paused, bottle still in hand and studied Fiona. The pain on her face was so obvious; Imogen was having trouble holding herself together.
"Let's get rid of this, now. I will always be there for you when you need someone. If you're bad side says 'hey Fiona, let's get a drink' have your good side call me, okay?" Imogen said, using voices to mimic 'good Fiona' and 'bad Fiona'.
Fiona laughed, tears of joy mingling with tears of laughter, "Okay, I'm sold. Let's get rid of it. Together. With you here, I can't lose, right?"
Imogen opened the bottle of champagne slowly, anticipating the pop of the cork. Once it had bounced off the ceiling and sent both girls jumping, Imogen started to pour the bottle out.
"Wait!" Fiona said to her, and stepping beside the younger girl, she wrapped her hand around the top of the bottle as well, placing her hand over top of Imogen's.
"Together, remember?" Fiona asked, giving Imogen a shy smile, her eyes drifting down to their hands.
Imogen felt her heart unexpectedly thud in her ribcage as Fiona placed her hand over her own. Her skin was warm and smooth, a sharp contrast to the coolness of her rings on that hand. Imogen glanced down to their hands as well, the nerves she had felt at the door coming back in a ten-fold.
"Together." She smiled back at Fiona, and putting her thoughts aside, they both dumped the alcohol down the drain.
"Now, onto that house project!" Fiona stated, pulling her hand away from Imogen's. She turned away and walked towards the living room, pony tail swishing behind her. Imogen sighed, already missing the older girls touch, and turned away from the kitchen to focus on reality.