CALL IT EVEN | shawmila

four.

Shawn sat on the windowsill of the attic bedroom, one leg draped out over the room. He watched the graying sky, trying to smoke fast before it rained again. He felt bad about being up here without her, he meant it when he said it was her space for now. He just didn't want any of the customers to catch him smoking if he opted to use the back door.

It was just easier to come up here really quick. But it was also easy to get lost up here, thinking.

The last couple of days played over in his mind, from seeing her sat down at his counter to sharing the shower to laying together in bed. It was so fucking weird. He imagined telling himself a week ago that this would happen, there was no way his past self would believe him.

Camila was like a dream when he saw her on tv—a beautiful blonde dream, like a ghost of the sad girl he loved in high school, but he refused to believe the sad girl was gone, as selfish as it was, the girl that loved him back had to be in there somewhere still.

He never imagined she'd come back and show herself. She wanted him again, if only for a little while.

If he nearly died the last time she left, this time was going to kill him. But in the meantime, there was nothing like loving her.

Shawn took another hit of the joint, trying to calm the weird nerves he always got before playing. It was for the same regulars every time, people he'd known for ages—but this time there was Camila too.

He flashed back, remembering the last time he saw the real her before two days ago. Seven years ago, here in this attic.

The blur of the pain of her absence was punctuated with so much annoyance. He remembered laying in bed, feeling half-dead when the cops showed up. He told them everything he knew, at his parents' insistence, telling them he did talk to Camila before she left and that he did know exactly where she was going. He knew she'd hate it forever, but he prayed they'd bring her home.

Days turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into graduation without her. He never smiled much, dark circles under his eyes semi-permanent. Without schoolwork to distract himself with, he started picking up more chores and shifts at the cafe.

What started as coping turned into a sense of responsibility. He was able to smile again, mostly only with his friends, and in his wanting something to focus on, the kitchen got entirely re-tiled and a new back-splash.

When his parents asked him to step up fully, to train the new girl they hired, he knew what they were gently pushing for.

Sabrina was nice. She memorized the menu fast and could carry three trays at once. She was funny and smart and beautiful, so Shawn went out with her. But she wasn't Camila, so they didn't last.

She told him to his face she could tell he was hung up on someone else. At that point, it'd been almost three years since Camila left, and he didn't want it to be true, the idea that he'd be stuck on her forever.

"No—no, I'm not, there's no one else—" He reached for her hand the way he always did to lead them in their dance classes. He almost had fun with those, despite the fact that she had to practically drag him there in the beginning.

"Shawn—I'm sorry she did this to you." She pulled her hand out of his, her eyes down. "Whoever she was, I hope you can move on one day."

Sabrina ended up going to Portland, a better server job at a higher-class restaurant. Shawn didn't blame her. He didn't even miss her.

Her laugh wasn't as cute and she didn't tease him the way Camila did. When Shawn danced with her, he had to admit it was impossible not to imagine she was someone else.