Five Steps | Chaelisa

Chapter 35

Lisa's POV

I get back to Pittsburgh late on Friday, when the sun is already drifting close to the horizon.

Now that I don't have to spend every waking minute worrying about my mom, I spent the whole trip staring out the window, thinking about, well... Roseanne.

How she's the only one who would understand the enormity of what happened. What last night meant for me. How sharing that part of myself with her that night in the library made such a difference.

If I can finally stand up to my mom and tell her how I feel, I can do the same for Roseanne.

And even if she's with Suzy and I've missed my chance—if I ever even had one—I owe her an apology for hurting her and for lying. Because she's the best friend I've ever had too.

And if I can't have more, at least maybe I can earn her trust back and have that. When Jim drops me off, I tap on her Instagram story from two hours ago to see a boomerang of Alice holding up an enormous slice of pizza, in the kitchen we made palachinkas in.

She's at Alice's.

And so even though I want nothing more than to just collapse into bed, I find myself weaving through the streets on my bike, the wind stinging my eyes as I whip around corners, the green street signs a blur as I fly past.

Before I know it, I turn onto Mintwood Street, the soles of my Converse dragging along the pavement as I look up at the lopsided white house on the corner.

I didn't realize just how much I missed her until this very moment.

I pull out my phone to call her, but just as I hit the green phone icon, the screen turns black, the battery completely drained from my night of driving across Pennsylvania.

I let out a long, slow exhale.

I know this is an out. I know I could just run away. But I don't want to.

I lean my bike against the steps, then jog slowly up to the front door. My fingers curl into a fist, and I reach out, hesitating, before lightly knocking.

I don't think I breathe until the door swings open, my heart jumping in my chest as...

Alice appears.

"Lisa! Hey," she says as she leans against the doorway. She nods behind her to the inside of the house. "Roseanne's not here."

"Oh." I swallow, nodding. "Do you... maybe know where I can find her?"

"She just left to go to this thing at the art museum." Alice hesitates and pulls her eyes away from mine, rubbing the back of her neck, like she knows how much this next part is going to sting. "With Suzy."

Even though I should've expected this, the wind still gets knocked right out of me.

"Right! Totally. Yeah," I manage to get out, my hand finding the cool metal of the railing as I stumble down the top step. "Uh, thanks, Alice. I actually gotta..." I point behind me, my voice trailing off.

I turn, almost mechanically, and head down to my bike, trying pretty damn hard to keep it together.

"Lisa!" she calls after me. I look back, and she jogs across the porch and down the steps and stops right in front of me. "I... I love my sister." She looks down at me, a small smile on her lips. "I was a little scared when I saw she got stuck with a single. Scared she would struggle to make friends. Scared it would be like high school all over again."

She reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder. "But I'm not scared anymore. She's finally figuring out who she is, and I think that has something to do with you. So... thank you for that."

I look down, kicking lightly at the bottom step. "Well, she's got Suzy now."

She shrugs. "Yeah, maybe. But that doesn't mean she doesn't miss you."

Yeah, right. Tears sting my eyes, and I scoop up my bike, hop quickly onto it, and pedal off down the street without another word.

My legs burn as I head back up the hill and across the bridge to Oakland, my chest heaving as I pedal as hard as I can, flying through side streets and around turns.

We don't have to pretend we give a shit about each other.

But we weren't pretending. You can't pretend to feel the things I felt with her.

I've tried.

I slam on my brakes as the stoplight in front of me flicks to red, the one part of the route home I was hoping I could just sail past.

The Carnegie Museum of Art towers just next to me, completely consuming my peripheral vision.

I should've just run the red.

I turn my head to see a thin trail of students milling about just inside, visible through a wall of enormous glass windows. Black suits and long, colorful dresses, drinks clutched in their hands, smiles plastered on their faces.

I want to go in. To find her. But that would be selfish. I want to talk to her, but I don't want to ruin her night. I know that an event like this can only end with the two of them together.

Still, a part of me is searching for her. Wanting to see her pass by in a long black dress, her head thrown back in laughter, Suzy just beside her. Wanting nothing more than to have her just feel happy and like she's completely herself.

And loving her just enough to have Suzy be the person to give her that instead of me.

Loving her.

The realization startles me more than the car behind me honking. I nearly topple off my bike as I'm brought back to reality. The light in front of me has clearly changed to green without me noticing.

I wave my apology and coast down the street and onto the sidewalk, then park my bike in the bike rack outside the library.

I can't go back to my apartment. Not yet.

I head up the steps and take a deep breath as I push inside, winding up the stairs and through the stacks to the spot I came to with Roseanne, the smell of old paper and bindings filling my nose as I slide slowly down to the floor.

I close my eyes and lean my head back against the shelves, letting the silence wrap itself around me.

I think about my mom, up in Erie, finally getting the help she needs after all this time. Of Roseanne, only a few doors away, probably holding Suzy's hand like she held mine that night at the roller rink.

The library used to be a place to quiet the pain and the heartache, to escape from it, but now... it feels like a place to let myself feel it. To let the dam break.

I pull my knees up to my chest, the tears I've been holding in since I got back to Pittsburgh finally beginning to fall.