I exhale in surprise. A laugh bubbles up from me, livelier than I expected, but it’s real. It’s the first time in days I’ve felt even a little bit lighter.
I type without hesitating.
Me:i’m not, and i’m happy to show evidence at a coffee date. fair trade?
The dots appear, teasing, then disappear again.
And then:
Alli:i’m busy.
Alli:stop texting me.
My grin takes over my face, stupid and relieved all at once. It’s not much, but it’s a crack. A real one.
I’ve lost track of time completely. I’m locked into my paper, trying to ignore the ache in my brain and the nagging thought that my phone mightdingand I’ll miss it.
My focus is glued to the screen, though the pressure in my temples reminds me I haven’t blinked in too long. I stretch back, trying to clear the fog from my brain, when the door swings open.
The laugh hits me again, vibrant and clear. It punches straight through my chest, sharp and disarming. I feel it before I even look up, that instinct pulls me, telling me she’s here.
I pause, gripping the edge of my desk like it’ll keep me from passing out, but my traitorous eyes follow her. She stands by the counter, looking exhausted in a hoodie and leggings, with her phone in one hand. But when she turns and sees me, the energy shifts in her face, that look of hesitation like she’s not sure whether to run or hide.
I suck in a breath, heart hammering in my chest. She doesn’t leave. She just stays.
She sits by the window. Alone. Writing. Studying. Existing. It takes everything not to rush over to her, not to apologize, to beg her to let me back in.
I don’t know what to do.
Then the bell jingles, and Chase strolls in, grinning like the troublemaker he is.
“Still here?” he says, settling in front of me with his snack bag. His eyes follow mine. “Did you think she’d just walk in and throw herself at you?”
“Don’t.”
“It’s Alli, man. You know her. It’ll be fine. Go talk to her.”
“She”—I shake my head—“doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Maybe not. But you won’t know until you try.”
I glance back at her, still alone. My hands sweat. I can feel the room closing in with the nerves, the mistake I made, the time I wasted—the way she might never forgive me.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Chase asks. “She tells you to screw off? You’ve faced linebackers twice your size. You can handle a five-foot-something girl.”
“She’s not just any girl.” I try to swallow the tightness in my throat. “She’s five one… and she’s everything.”
Chase raises an eyebrow, clearly seeing through me. “Exactly. So, stop sitting here like a coward, and go get your girl.”
Everything inside me yells for resolution. And finally, I push my chair back, my heart thumping in my chest, my laptop abandoned in front of me.
Chase’s voice calls out behind me. “About time.”
As I step closer to her, everything around me clouds. My heart beats in my ears, and every breath feels heavier, caught somewhere between “this is a good idea” and “turn back now.”
When Alli looks up and sees me standing by her, I feel it—that spark, that instant connection. I haven’t lost her yet.
“Hey.”
