Take Me On

Usually, I love Fridays. Lincoln and I chat over Skype before he goes to work, but I haven’t heard from him—in four days. It’s a record. A horrible, horror-show record. I’ve texted him twice. Called and left a message once. Checked the mailbox every day only to find nothing. Willed him telepathically to call me two million times. My pride’s about to take a trip to hell and I’ll call him again if he doesn’t reach out to me soon.

The phone glows to life and the pencil falls out of my hand and drops to the floor, rolling down the step to the row in front of me. I don’t care. My heart thuds as I swipe my finger across the screen and then...I sink down in my seat. Crap. Not Lincoln.

Jenna nudges my foot again. “Lincoln?” she mouths.

I shake my head and mouth back, “Echo.”

My best friend is very happy with the twists and turns of her life. There’s some drama right now with Noah’s foster sister, Beth, and Echo’s been pretty torn up about it. The one thing my relationship with Lincoln has taught me is that distance doesn’t mean a friendship ends. It just means you have to make more of an effort.

I read through the latest news and text Echo back a few encouraging words. Her returned smiley face is enough to warm a small part of my heart. Unfortunately, only an acknowledgment from Lincoln can thaw out the rest.

“Have a great weekend!” Our professor claps his hands once and the auditorium is filled with the sounds of people shifting out of their seats and closing books. Jenna and I gather our stuff and leave.

Florida is hot. Not that Kentucky doesn’t have its fair share of summer weather in October, but there are typically some cool days thrown into the mix. Not in Gainsville. It’s hot every single day.

And I love it.

My body shivers when I leave the air-conditioning of the science building and head toward my dorm.

“Dinner tonight?” Jenna pulls out her keys. We shared the same orientation class and the same fear of not knowing a soul. She’s a commuter, but practically lives in my dorm room.

“Sure.” It’s not like I expect to be talking with Lincoln or anything. My mind replays our last phone conversation, last Skype chat and letters, searching for whatever I said or did wrong that would make him keep his distance.

During a visit here in September, Lincoln took me to the beach; while we lay on a blanket staring at the stars, he told me that he loved me. And I said the words back. My heart swelled to the point of explosion that night. Now it feels as if it’s going to collapse in on itself in heartbreak.

A thought freezes me in midstep and Jenna circles back around when she notices I stopped walking. “What?” she asks.

“What if he’s hurt?” My eyes widen to the point I feel they’ll pop out of my head. “What if he went to go climb and he fell and he’s bleeding and he’s alone and—”

Jenna tilts her head and the pity in her eyes makes me want to smack her. Instead, I begin walking again. Her sandals snap against the sidewalk as she catches up. “Sorry. You know I think he’s great, but it’s been four days and he hasn’t responded at all. I mean, come on, how many long-distance relationships really last?”

I pause at the crosswalk where I turn left to head to the dorms and she turns right to head to her car. I blow out a rush of air. “I love him.”

Jenna now sports a matching oh-how-sad-she-really-thought-this-was-going-to-work smile to highlight the pity-eyes. “We’ll go out tonight. Have a good time. Make you forget him.”

“It’s only been four days,” I answer. He’ll call. He will. Lincoln loves me, and why do I want to cry?

“Hey, Lila!” I look behind me and quickly step out of the way to avoid being pummeled by Bryant on his skateboard. He stops less than a foot away from me and, in a smooth motion, kicks the skateboard up into his hand.

“Bring Melanie to my game tomorrow night.” Bryant’s a sophomore and plays a game meant only for men over two hundred pounds of muscle: rugby. The big, bad dude has a huge, bone-crunching crush on the tiny girl from a small town in Mississippi who shares my dorm room.

Jenna rolls her eyes. “Because Lila possesses the ability to breathe life into the dead.”

“Stop it or I won’t go out tonight,” I tell her. Melanie’s had a rough time transitioning to life in Florida. Jenna doesn’t understand since she still lives at home. Homesickness...it can kill you if you let it, and Melanie is seriously close to coding.

Coding over being away from everyone you love—I get it. I came close to packing my bags a week in, but then Lincoln chatted with me for hours, while I hugged a pillow tight and cried hysterically. He told me I could do it, and I stayed, and he was right. I’m strong enough to live away from home and pursue my dreams.

Jenna backs away, all smiles. “Then I’m leaving before I say something else. See you tonight.”

We both watch her leave, and then I watch as Bryant spins a wheel on his board.

“You okay?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I’m scared Melanie’s going to go home.”

I bite the inside of my lip. “Me, too.” I like Melanie. A lot. And I really don’t want her to give up, because she’ll regret it. Just like I would have regretted staying in Kentucky or heading home after a week.

Bryant drops the board and places one foot on it. “Just bring her to the game, okay?”