Chapter 2.1 A Hasty Engagement

A Hasty Engagement

Kyle Campbell had been Rowan’s best friend since either of them could remember. She was a Class One Tether upon graduation from the Academy. Although she was slated to be placed with the Commission, life had different plans for Kyle. Her mother died, very unexpectedly, the summer after she graduated. Despite having older, less talented, and more available siblings, Kyle ended up managing the Dead End. The bar had been in their family since it was built in the mid-1800s. At the time, it served as headquarters for the American Midwest Commission.

It appeared seedy enough from the outside, that even if the average human wandered by, they would usually avoid going in. The older generations of Regulators were a tough crowd. They had to be. Whether they were in the field or not, they lived through some of the most violent and fearful times. The Great Erasure, the culling of the Editors.

It took a toll on them all. You could see it in their eyes. That kind of pain, such catastrophic, generational pain left a residue unlike anything on earth. It was the feeling of discomfort without really knowing why, the suggestion that something bad had happened there. So, on occasion, when the random bachelor party would wander in, the usual crowd made sure they never stayed long.  

“You look like shit,” Kyle said while walking up to greet Rowan. She was wearing a maroon tailored button-down shirt with a dirty bar towel slung over her shoulder. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, her face, fresh. Although she appeared tired, Kyle always looked like she could be the lead in a romantic comedy.

“Yeah, and you’re looking pretty matronly for a twenty-eight year-” Rowan began.

Kyle interrupted. “You have a bloody nose and your arms are all cut up. I know you’re troubled, Ro, everyone does, but this is out of control,” Kyle said with a serious, yet dumbfounded look on her face that she held for all of ten seconds until bursting into laughter. She’d started swatting at Rowan with her bar towel.  

“Look at the state of you. If I didn’t know you, I would think you owed someone money and they came to collect..." Kyle trailed off then continued in a serious tone, "you don’t owe anyone money, do you?” Kyle asked.

“I mean, probably. Honestly Ky, I don’t know what happened. Maybe my blood sugar or iron is low or something,” Rowan said with a shrug. She didn’t want to tell Kyle about what happened, didn’t want to worry her without knowing more herself.

"Ro, you're bullshitting me. I know you are. Either way, you need to see a doctor," Kyle said in a pleading tone  

“Subject change! When am I going to meet this fiancée of yours? Do I embarrass you” Rowan asked pointedly before letting out a quite giggle.

“Please,” Kyle answered with a smirk. “I’m looking forward to introducing you two, which might happen sooner than you think. He’s a Tether, I think you’ll like him. You seem to have a way with us.”

“He’s a Tether, too? How pragmatic of you. You’re nothing if not practical. You’re like the Swiss Army knife of best friends. Need a haircut? Need your tire changed? Having a major existential life crisis?” Rowan laughed as she listed off Kyle’s skills both utilitarian and soft.

“Does he know you’re a class one? That’s gotta be intimidating. I’m guessing there must be some kind of insane redeeming quality here. Does Papa George like him, what does he have to say about all this?” Rowan asked, highly interested in the answer.

“Not much, surprisingly. But he’s been busy dealing with Matt and his recovery. Laura is in Australia. Who knows when she’s coming back. If she’s ever coming back at all," Kyle stared off listlessly beyond the walls of the bar.

"It’d be nice if I could get the fuck out of this place for once. Even just a weekend. A weekend would be nice. Actually,” Kyle stopped momentarily and looked up toward the ceiling like she was searching for the answer, “that’s what I love about Wes. He's easy breezy, no problems. No guff. Just supportive and understanding.”

“Isn’t that what you love most about me, though,” Rowan said pretending to be offended.

“Not right now. You’re my biggest problem right now,” Kyle laughed. “Because right now, I need someone to balance me out.”

“Who, moi?! A Class Three Sage. Are you serious? I can barely balance a drink tray” Rowan cried.

“Yes, I am. Get a grip. We need to get your head right so you can help me. Because this is happening and I need some goddamn support,” Kyle fell uncharacteristically serious, “and I’m not going to get it from my family which is why I’ve kept you around since we were toddlers. I’m a Class One Tether, I know a good soul when I see one.”

“Exactly, Kyle. You’re a class one tether. You could literally go anywhere; you could do anything. Go do your Rumspringa thing. I’ll take over managing the bar for you. Don’t punish yourself by getting married,” Rowan said with a serious tone.

“Sure, you’d manage the bar. I’d love to hear what Diane would have to say about that.”