Chapter 2: Glamazons

The drive back home was quiet. Too quiet. Chyler's music had stopped playing halfway through the freeway exit and she hadn't even bothered to hit play again. Her mind was buzzing — voices, memories, feelings that had been dead and buried long ago clawing their way back like they had just been waiting for the right time to strike.

Seeing Capri Nolan— well, now Capri Channing, had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. She had looked perfect, just like she always was. Impossibly beautiful like something out of a designer's dream and next to her, as irritating as ever, Caden Channing still looking like he hadn't grown single personality cell since highschool. He still acted like the world revolved around the golden pedestal his family built for him.

But Capri... That hit differently. Even after all these years, one glance and Chyler was right back in that locker room, seventeen and stupid, heart hammering in her chest because she had kissed Capri, and Capri had kissed her back like it meant something. Then called it a mistake. That part never stopped stinging.

She walked into the house with the shopping bag, barely managing a greeting before Juneau's voice sliced through the air like it had been for the last week she had come to visit with her family.

"You are home early. What, they finally fire you?"

Chy didn't answer. She dropped the bag on the kitchen counter and started unpacking. Paper towels, almond and skimmed milk, fruit snacks... The silence between them was thick with their usual tension.

Juneau rummaged through the items without a glance at her. "You forgot the massage oil. Again. God, Chy. You are like a broken vending machine."

"You know, June. Writing a list when you know you are going to send me shopping is not so hard. Same as a simple thank you," Chy responded. "Or go buy them yourself since you are so perfect at everything. You know? Married, homeowner, instagrammable family."

"Chy, stop."

"What? You think about it every time you see me, the underachiever."

Before June could reply, a strek of energy launched itself into Chyler's feet.

"Aunt Chy!" Major, June's five-year-old son slammed into her legs with the kind of enthusiasm that made her heart crack open. She scooped him up, holding on to him like she needed it more than he did. "What are you doing home?"

"I missed you kid. I figured you and I would do something fun together from tomorrow."

"You are not going to work again?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"I'm on vacation!" she said without thinking it over.

Major beamed. "Can we do the rocket kit? And go to the park? And get ice cream?"

"We will do everything you want, bud," she promised.

Behind her, June snorted. "Since when do police officers get vacations?"

Chyler tensed. There it was, the jab wrapped in sugar and her sister knew so well how to strike. "I could ask the same about boring housewives," she shot back, walking out of the kitchen.

June rolled her eyes and followed. "Don't get testy just because you are still stuck in neutral while everyone else is moving forward."

Chyler didn't answer. They could go and on taunting each other like this but she was always the one left nursing stab pains because the reality remained. Everyone was better off than her. Thankfully, the front door creaked open.

"Honey, I'm home!" The familiar singsong voice rang out like a rescue rope from a burning building. Brye. He came striding through the living room in skinny jeans, a mustard yellow cardigan that somehow worked and a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I come bearing gossip and gin," he announced, sliding a flask out of his coat.

"Oh, yes baby! You are an angel," Chy said, accepting the flask.

"I get that a lot," he said. "Come on. I need a drink and you my love, need six judging from your message."

"No kidding!" Chy muttered and followed her best friend out of the house, grateful for the rescue.

★★★

They ended up at the Foxhole, their regular bar that hadn't changed in a decade. Dart holes in the walls and the kind of regulars who knew everyone's business. Their usual booth near the counter was still free, still smelling faintly of leather and old beer.

Brye slid into the booth like a queen reclaiming her throne. "So" he said after the first sip of beer. "Now that you are temporarily unemployed, will you be gracing the reunion you have been avoiding like a plague."

Chyler leaned back. "Still a no."

Brye raised a brow. "What's your excuse now?"

"Do you know what reunions are for? People showing off how much their lives have developed. Look at me. No career, no family, no job. Going there will feel like highschool all over again and I can't live that nightmare."

Brye squinted his eyes. "Midlife crisis much?"

"I'm not having a midlife crisis."

"Then what? Spiraling over a ghost from the past?"

Chyler groaned. "Don't start."

"Oh, honey. I started the second I saw you walking around today looking like someone lit your childhood trauma on fire." Chyler took a long sip of her beer. "So tell me, who did you see?"

"Just someone from back then," she shrugged.

"Was it...?" He gasped dramatically. "The one that got away?"

Chyler looked up sharply. "Brian, I hate you."

Brye giggled, clapping happily like a teenage girl. "Tell me more."

Before she could respond, Brye's gaze flicked over her shoulder and he stiffened for just half a second but she noticed.

"What now?"

"Two glamazons just walked in. My God, I can't!" he almost squealed.

She turned slowly, and there she was again, walking in, shimmering in something silky and low cut, a goddess dipped in candlelight. Caden walked a step ahead of her, already veering toward the bar with his usual air of entitlement. Capri turned, her gaze finding Chyler's instantly like she had some unspoken radar. Chyler turned around sharply, so fast that Brye noticed.

"Shit!" she cursed, clutching onto her beer bottle as Capri made her way towards them.

"What? You know them?" Brye asked. She looked up at him slowly and his face lit up in recognition. "Ah! Want me to throw my drink on you so you have an excuse to leave?"

"I hate how often you have thought that through."

Brye giggled, leaned in and whimpered. "You know, some people pay for this kind of tension."

"Not now, Brye!" she hissed moments before Capri stopped at their booth, all confident.

"Twice in one day," she smiled. "What are the odds? Hey guys."

"Hey gorge," Brye responded cheerfully which made Capri's smile widen.

Chyler leaned back in her seat casually, forcing a smile. This was more like bad luck was having a good day. Capri's lips curved. "May I?"

Brye looked between them like he was watching a tennis match at Wimbledon before he scooted over. "Oh, please do! I'm Brian."

Without waiting for a yes from Chyler, Capri slid into the booth beside Brye, across from Chyler.