“Hi,” I respond.
Someday I’ll teach her how to climb a rock wall, I’ll introduce her to my parents, let her hold my nephew and I’ll confess my love.
Lila reaches up and smooths the hair near my ear. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
“Same here.”
“I really like you,” she says in a low, sexy tone. And I recognize it, the spark in her eyes. It’s more than like, more than attraction.
“Me, too.”
Her hand glides down to my chest and pauses over my heart. When our eyes meet, I know she notices the spark within me, too. I capture her hand and keep it against my chest as I lean in for a kiss.
“I still expect two letters a week,” she whispers.
Our lips move against each other’s, and in between breaths I say to her, “I’ll send you three.”
Epilogue
October
Lila
In the back of an auditorium lecture hall, my pencil taps repeatedly against my notebook and my eyes flash for the millionth time to my smartphone, willing it to light up. It’s on silent, but I wish it was on foghorn.
A nudge at my foot draws my attention to my right. My friend Jenna nods at the clock and a rush of nervous adrenaline makes the pencil beat faster. Two minutes until class ends and the weekend begins.
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?”