-1-

Sunday mornings are my favorite shifts.

Because most of our customers are  students and 9-5ers it’s pretty empty on Sunday mornings. Yeah, tips and time slow down, but it’s awesome because  I can sneak in the back to catch up on my assignments, play whatever music I want on the speaker system and of course experiment with drinks.

Sev  is working with me today and carefully soaking a yerba mate tea bag into steamed milk. She usually takes the weekends off, but she went to some iPhone Film Festival in Philadelphia  Thursday night and spent more on a hotel and train tickets than her monthly allowance. When I picked her up from the train station at midnight  she looked like a zombie, but still insisted on going to Wal-Mart to buy all the iPhone camera lenses she had seen at the festival.

The bell chimes for the first time in nearly two hours and I look up from my Russian History notes to see the last person I expect.

Phillip.

Sev makes a little aww noise that sounds like a cat gargling mouthwash. I tell her this and she kicks my shin.

He’s only been here once since I started working here over the summer. I like to think he avoids this place because  most of the people who come here are morons and the coffee is way too expensive.

 “Hi Phillip!,” Sev says and he gives her a shy head nod.

“You’re money doesn't work here," I greet him because I give him almost anything for free

He comes up to the register and our hands graze for a second. I think I could be one of those girls who kisses in public, but Phillip is so not one of those guys. His eyes can’t help but dart nervously to Sev who I imagine is just staring at us.

“I had to buy  books for my English class, so I figured I’d stop by,” he says. “Do some reading.”

He sets a white plastic bag on the counter, inside are three thick anthologies. I’m so happy he is out for once and not getting high in his bedroom.

“Are you an English major ?,” Sev asks all smiles. Trying to impress him for some reason.

“Poli Sci,” he offers.

“Cool. I’m a film major,” she offers and he nods at her again. “So, what can we get you ?,”

“How about…” I start “A triple shot large extra hot - half caf, -five-and-a-half-pump-vanilla non-fat-no foam-whipped cream - vanilla latte with extra bullshit about how I don’t  feel like paying full price ?,” I finish mimicking some of our more obnoxious customers.

“I don’t drink coffee,” he reminds me with a half smile. It’s almost a smirk.

It’s a cute expression on him.

“Hmm, I can put milk in a cup ?,” I say

“Fuck you,” he laughs.

He picks up one of the pretentious shitty organic sodas we stock and a premade breakfast sandwich.

“I can’t give that to you for free. The manager counts those.”

“I can pay,” he says with mock offense. “You’re not the only one with a job.”

Phillip works part-time at this car wash 21 miles away. He could probably get a better and closer job with workstudy or something, but he likes that he can just throw on his headphones and just wipe down  cars with zero human interaction for hours.

“Sev makes sure he pays. I’m going to switch the music.” 

I go to the back and plug  my iPod into the dock in place of the usual playlist mandated by the owners. I play some of Phillips’s music, because I already know the words to more Train than I ever want to admit.

-2-

When I come back  Sev has her hands in the air and  is moving her hips in a circle to the new song.

I jump in front of her and start dancing with her,   she gets closer and starts grinding me from behind and I reach back to put my arms around her neck.  Phillips takes out his phone like he is taking video.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” I shriek.

“Yeah !,” Sev chimes in pushing me away. “You should totally be using a wide angle lens anyway.”

Laughing, Phillip goes over to one of the bean bags we have in the corner. He pulls a crumpled syllabus out of his pocket and starts flipping through one of the books. Sev already looks in a better mood.

 “So, what did you two get up to last night ?,” Sev asks me.

“We weren’t together,” I shrug and she looks concerned.

“What ? I had to pick you up from the train station and Phillip has to spend some weekend time with his mom.”

She looks doubtful.

Phillip and I used to go out all the time. We’d  go to concerts and  he always knew where a house party would be and we'd get drunk of our asses. That was our thing. But not anymore since he now hates people and crowds. He also hates coming to campus to hang out with me and I don’t want to spend my Saturday with his mother, so we don’t spend them together anymore

After spending the afternoon with Jonah Morrow,  I’d spent most of the night just driving around Waverly. Yes, it’s a waste of gas, but it’s the only time I can really think nowadays. I like it. Usually I think about the people I miss, Phillip and his mom or my own future.

 Last night all I could think about was Abigail. A girl who was probably murdered and  no one seemed to miss  her. I’d even tried doing some Googling about her, but nothing showed up.

 “What the hell, isn’t this the CSI theme song ?,” Sev asks when the next song comes on.

I stop and listen and hear the first few lyrics of The Who blaring through the speakers.

Phillip turns to me at the same moment and we share a smile across the cafe like we’ve just seen a celebrity or something. While we never used the terms, this song had been ‘our song’. It was how we met.

When I was a rising senior, Miss. Elsie, my guardian at the time, helped me get into Eastham’s Summer Intensive. The program meant you had to go to Eastham if you got accepted and it came with a half scholarship. I’d gotten in on my grades and for being from a “hard to serve population.”

I was expecting more people who needed scholarships to be in the program, but it was these WASP-y  idiots who were born with silver spoons in their mouths. They all talked about their lake houses, horse farms and international vacations. It wasn’t that they were all bitchy or anything, but hearing about how they had $50 flip flops in every color was exhausting to me.

It was during the first week when we were on a lunch break that I finally noticed Phillip. I had seen him in the classes. He was hard to miss because he was kind of emo with the long black hair and all black clothes. Not to mention he was had the highest grades.

 He was sitting by himself  in the cafeteria with headphones in. He wasn’t even trying to fit in with the other kids like I had been. When I walked past, I heard Who Are You and I asked him if that was The Who.

“The who ?,” he asked all serious, taking off the headphones

“The Who,” I’d said

“Who ?”

“The Who,” I repeated

It took another 20 seconds of this before he cracked and I realized he was giving me hard time.

“Who are you ?,” he’d asked. He had a lip ring that moved with his smile.

“I’m Corinne, I’m from New York.” I’d said. That’s how we identified ourselves in the program. Name.State.

“No, that’s the name of the song,” he smiled.

He was such an asshole back then. And I loved that.

The song had switched to The Killers and I told him about how that had been my first concert. One of the kids I lived with when I was 14  took me. Everyone was waving their phones, but we took out lighters like it was the 90’s.

Suddenly, Phillip--the guy in the back of all the seminars who rarely spoke--wouldn’t shut up about live music. I sat with him every day and we became partners in crime during the intensive. When I had to leave for New York to finish my senior year  I cried.  In just two months he’d became my first best friend.

 We’d done the e-mail thing and I came back to Waverly to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas break with his family. It was the only time I’d met his Dad, whose name I don’t even remember. Phillip’s dad was an average looking guy and he participated in all the Christmas stuff even if he looked a little bored.  By New Year’s he was gone.

We went to each other’s graduations and neither’s prom and when summer came back around  I moved into the dorms . But once we were finally in the same state, Phillip had changed. I was hoping me being closer and our relationship getting physical would help make him a little better, but the damage was done.  His father had walked out and Phillip's life imploded. The money in their savings ran out after months, his mom started working and Phillip started taking more drugs.

 Phillip didn’t talk about things anymore. He was so fucking  fragile I had to walk on eggshells around him.

Which is why I hadn’t told him I was meeting with Jonah yesterday. Or about Abigail. And because anything death related is too much of a hot topic for him.

“Well, I think he’s warming up to me,” Sev observes.

“I guess.” I say. “Hey, don’t mention Jonah to Phillip, okay ?”

“Oh god Corinne-”

I shake my head.

“No, It’s not like that. Trust me.  In fact, I don't know if you noticed, but Jonah is a little blond-ish...I should set you two up.”

She shrugs. “Not my type. I need chemistry and a guy who can like pick me up,” she says

I laugh.

We don’t get our next customer for another two hours. When the bell chimes this time it’s a City of Waverly cop.

 “I didn’t know we sell donuts,” Sev whispers.

“Shut up,” I whisper at her because this guy is approaching us and looking serious.

“What ? Oooh, Corrine, you did pay that speeding ticket, right ?,” she teases.

I ignore her as the cop stops just short of the register and turns to Phillip.

“Shit,” I say under my breath.

By the time I get from behind the counter the officer is handcuffing him.

“He didn’t do anything!” I tell  the officer.

“Ma’am please,” the officer chastises me and I realize I’d yelled.

Phillip just keeps his head up like he doesn’t care he's being treated like a criminal.

“Whatever, it’s fine-,” Phillip says.

“No it’s not!,” I say. “Let him go”

“Ma’am--”

“I’m his girlfriend,” I say.

“He’s going to Waverly County if you need to pick him up,” the officer says and  escorts him out. Phillip doesn’t even give me a second look. I’m stunned.

What the hell ?

Sev is waiting behind the register with her hand over her mouth.  I run back towards the counter, ring open the register and check the receipts.

“What did he do ?,” Sev asks quietly. "Corrine ?"

I find Phillips receipt. He’d paid with the credit card he'd opened in his Dad's name.

“Corrine ?,” she asks.

“He paid with a stolen credit card,” I mumble. “Shit, Sev, I told him. What am I supposed to ?”

“They give him one call or something , right ?,” she said. “Just wait.”

My heart is racing more than it should be and I’m just pacing back and forth around the coffee shop pretending to clean up the tables. Every ten seconds I check my phone. I notice Phillip left his books and I scoop them up and take them back to the register.

“Go.” Sev commands after half an hour of silence.

“What ?,” I say.

“Just go the jail. I’ll cover for you.”

-3-

I don’t have time to be properly grateful. I say a quick thank you and promise to update her before running to my car. Once I’m locked inside and alone in the SUV, I take a few breaths and  start crying.

If he goes to jail I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’ll be alone again and that fucking terrifies me.

“Cor-,” a voice says, but I scream so loudly and so highpitched I don’t hear the rest of my name.

I grab my Taser from the car's side pocket and turn  towards the passenger seat to see Abigail sitting there in a dark blue North Face jacket and tweed mini skirt with her hands in the air.

“Sorry--”

“You scared me to dea--,” I start, but just let it hang.

I really need to work on that.

“I saw what happened. Are you going to be okay ?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Fucking Phillip, I can’t believe he is doing this to me.”

Abigail is quiet and just kind of looks around my car.

“Nice car.” she finally says

“Thanks. It’s my fuck you car.”

“What ?,” she asks.

“My fuck you car. When I was 13 I decided to save up for a car so that if anyone ever gives me shit about being poor or  just pissed me off I could say fuck you and drive off in my super nice car. I figure if I had this car to take me away then no one could hurt me.  It all seems kind of dumb now.”

She nods at this and I see a little pity in her eyes and I'd realized I'd let a little too much of my past slip.

God, even the dead are pitying me.

I put the car in gear and just start driving.

“Sometimes people we love hurt us without knowing it.” Abigail says when we get to a stoplight.

“I take it you’re speaking from experience ?” 

She shrugs.

“I wish I knew. I just think I was in love with someone,” she  ponders.  “Love is wild, right ?,”

I don’t respond as the light turns green.

I wouldn’t know much about love.

***

I decide not to go to  the jail like some clingy girlfriend and drive back to my dorm room. In the short distance I get Phillip’s call. His Dad, who is apparently in Miami, wants Phillip to spend the night in jail and then I can pick him up in the morning. He told me to cover with his mom, which I do.

Abigail is still with me when I unlock my suite door, which is fine since none of my roommates are here. She marvels at the way Sev has covered every empty space with minimalist film posters and street art she bought in Boston and New York. All the furniture is covered in Sev’s bright blankets and throws, she’d made the dorm into a mini home.

“This place is so cool!,” Abigail says. I think she actually flails a little.

She peers over to the table where Sev and her SEX Trivia team mates have set up literally hundreds of  flashcards to study. Rows and rows of index cards cover the table organized by topic and then further broken down by subtopic and related field. They write 10 new cards every day and quiz each other. Abigail picks up one of the cards on the top and reads it.

“Which animals did Elliott set free in E.T ?,” she reads.

“I see you’ve picked up the 80’s films category,” I point out. That’s Sev’s specialty.

She picks up another card.

“What Picasso painting is displayed behind bulletproof glass ?,” She reads

“That’s the Contemporary Art History section,” I say dryly. “It’s a real all-encompassing competition.”

“What’s the prize anyway ?,” she asks

“Wasted time, bragging rights, coupons, and the false perception that you’re actually smart. Why ?”

“I don’t know…It all kinda sounds like fun. Why aren’t you on the team, again ?,” she asks.

“Because it’s stupid and  I’m on a scholarship and I have to study. It wouldn’t look good if I got involved with pointless extracurriculars.”

It wasn’t a rule of my scholarship, but my own personal one. If admin thought I wasn’t being serious about school they would judge me.

I head to the fridge and take out some Diet Cokes and the rum Sev and I had snuck in here the first night. I take a long sip of my soda and fill the space with the rum. I go to hand Abigail a can of soda, but she has moved on past the table and is looking at our room doors where the RA, Nadia, has put up whiteboards for us to decorate however we want.

Sev’s has the numeral VII made of tiny hearts, she put it there when I told her that all I could think of is the number when I heard her name.  Leyla’s says Leyla + Zain and she has a bunch of magnets on it.

Mine is blank.

I mean, I had written my name on it, but erased it because my handwriting is shit.

“Diet Coke ?,” I offer

“No thanks.” Abigail refuses. “Can I write on this ? I'll erase it.”

“Knock yourself out.”

I sit on the couch and  write a flimsy text message to Phillip’s mom. I tell her we are going to a concert and he is going to sleep on the couch in my dorm. He’s never even been to my dorm, but she’ll make herself believe it.

“You know you don’t have to help Jonah…with me. ” Abigail says quietly. “ It’s not that important and I mean if you think it will get in the way of what’s going on with your boyfriend and your scholarship--,”

“It won’t,” I cut her off. “Besides, I think helping you is actually meaningful. Unlike the trivia contest.”

I flip through my phone when I remember what I’m supposed to be telling her anyway.

“Shit,”

“What ?,” she turns startled.

“We’re supposed to meet with Jonah tomorrow to look through newspapers, but I have to wait for Phillip at the police station. Shit, we’ll have to reschedule.”

“It’s no big deal.” she shrugs. “And I think he’ll understand. He’s nice.”

I start to wonder if she is going to go Ghost on him.

“Do you like him ?,” I ask typing the message. “Because from where I’m standing, boys are assholes.”

“Can’t I just think a guy is nice ?,” she asks sitting next to me on the couch.

I look over to the dry erase bored where she has written

Is Anyone Anywhere Happy ?

“It’s Sylvia Plath.” She says.

My eyes almost roll into my skull.

“Oh, god not more poetry. Between you and Sev you hippy dippy art majors are going to kill me.” 

“Not poetry,” Abigail smiles. “It’s from her published journals that she wrote when she was around our age, in a college like this.”

“And what’s Sylvia’s answer?,” I placate.

“Does it matter ? I just like the question.”

-4-

I’ve ventured across the street and into enemy territory 3 times to get an iced coffee refill . Dunkin Donuts doesn't have the organic beans, fresh pressed espresso and 12 million kinds of milk like The Thinking Cup, but they have excellent donuts.

Half of the dozen  are gone by the time Phillip finally makes an appearance out of the Waverly County Police Station.

He gets in the car without a word and slams the door.

“Hey.” I say in defense of the slammed door.

Phillip picks up one of the maple donuts and stuffs half of it into his mouth.

 “So, how was it ?,” I ask backing onto the road.

“How do you think ?,” he says leaning back my seats. “My dad is such as fucking selfish asshole. I didn’t do anything that wrong, he should be paying for my school shit anyway.”

I don’t agree, so I just keep my lips sealed. Phillip  got that credit card to fuck with his dad. He  never used it for school stuff. 

“I need to get my car. Go back to Tremont Ave.” he practically orders me.

“Can’t.” I say. “I already missed work and two classes waiting for you. I need to at least go to this history quiz. We can go after.”

“I don’t want to go to campus, I just spent the night in fucking  jail--”

“Yeah, for committing a crime. Don’t mess with my schedule--”

“—I left my car when I got arrested. I’m going to get a parking ticket. Stop being a bitch, Corrine.”

“You stop being a bitch,” I retort.

He shoves my hand off the wheel and we swerve in the middle of the street.

"Ow! Asshole." I hiss, reaching across and hitting him the chest.

"Corrine, I'm not playing with you." he growls and jerks my wheel causing us to fishtail. Cars honk.

“What the fuck is wrong with you !,” I shout shoving  him away. I pick up my coffee and throw it in his direction, while keeping my eyes on the road.

“Motherfucking bitch!,” he shouts throwing the now empty cup back at me.

“Call me a bitch one more time.” 

“Just take me to my god damn car!” he barks

“Ask nicely,” I say, but I’m already headed to Tremont Ave.

He sits with his arms folded, wiping coffee and ice cubes of his sweatshirt. Sure enough, when I pull up behind his old black Mustang, there are 2 tickets on it. 

He gets out without a word to me and snatches the parking tickets.

“You never asked nicely,” I remind him .

“Fuck you. You could have gotten the keys form my mom and moved it. What the hell were you doing while I was in there ?”

I tell him the truth.

“I got buzzed and took a nap, because I realized I don’t have deal with your shit," I say in an intentionally self-righteous tone.

“Selfish bitch,” he says getting in his car.

I'm not taking that shit. I get out of my car and lean into his window.

“A selfish bitch wouldn’t have missed class and work to wait for your ass. And you know I can’t miss class with my scholarship. Unlike you school is important to me, if I lose my scholarship  I don’t have--,”

“Don’t start with that poor foster kid I don’t have a family, no one loves me, someone touched me wrong, I’m all alone and everyone is judging me shit.” he mimics what I think is supposed to me.

His little diatribe actually stuns me for a second.  Phillip knows I hate the whole foster kid thing.

 I’m not letting him have the last word, but I’m also not putting our dirty laundry in the middle of Waverly, 4 blocks from my job. I yank open his passenger door and get in.  He’s already snorting God knows what off the back of his hand.

He wrestles his iPod out of the plastic bag of his belongings the cops gave him and plugs it into the car speakers at ear numbing volume. I turn it down and try to calm myself down.

“I’m done.” I say calmly. “I can't do this anymore. I can't do us.”

He looks at me like he is just now seeing me. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and makes a wet cough sound.

“Are you fucking kidding me ?,” he asks. “You’re doing this now ?”

“I thought about it a lot last night.  We just make each other miserable. We don't talk anymore. I have to force you to do everything and can’t keep getting dragged into your shit--”

“No one dragged you,” he yells. “You’re the one who got all clingy and weird. Always coming over and coming around--”

“That’s because I liked you !, “ I say frustrated. “God, Phillip Do you even like me ? I mean, do you love me ?”

“Just get the fuck out of my car. I don’t need you always bitching me out and telling me what do.”

“So you don’t even like me ?”

“Do you love me or something ?”

“I asked first!,”

He doesn’t answer, but reaches over and opens my door.

“I don’t  need this,” I tell him stepping out.

“No, I don’t need this." he shouts. " I don't need you. Without me you don’t have anybody.”

“Goodbye, Phillip.” I say slamming the door and sticking my head through the open window. “I was trying to do it nicely so we could still be-

“Fuck you”

I stomp towards my own car, grab the pink iPod out of the seat and walking back to his car, chuck it through his open window, it hits him square in the head.

When he turns around I flick him off.

“Bitch,!” he calls out starting the car. “I hope you're fucking happy"

He starts the car and flies down the street, running a red light in the process.

“Fuck you,” I say to no one. “I don’t fucking need you to be happy.”

Is Anyone Anywhere Happy ?

Apparently not, Sylvia.

 ----

- That Ghost reference was before Lile's ABWG Ghost reference