Phoebe: Have you ever broken out?
Me: Technically, no, but Freddie said I would. Freddie! That rascal. Any wonder why I have trust issues?
Phoebe: Mom is going to get wind of this and we need a plan so she doesn’t come at Chase with an angry mob carrying flaming torches and pitchforks.
Me: Fair point. If you can buy me some time, I’ll let you know my plans first thing tomorrow morning.
After the crisis at the Collins’ house, I was up much of the night and I truly don’t know what to do or where to go, so I do the only thing I know how to do during uncertain times when I feel powerless, confused, or worried.
I pray.
I pray all the way to the hotel, while in the parking garage, up the elevator, and when walking through the lobby. I pray to know which way to go. Where. When. How.
But first, the best I can do is put one foot in front of the other, shower, and settle into my room.
I queue up Ted Lasso and am about to dial room service to see if they’re willing to bring me all the chocolate in the hotel when there is a knock on the door. My heart leaps in my chest.
But it’s room service. I’m guessing my sister sent me ice cream. I’ll just curl up, eat, and laugh away my woes.
A man dressed in the tan and black uniform of the hotel’s employees pushes the service cart into my room. Two plates with silver covers hide the contents.
“Are you sure you have the right room? I didn’t order?—”
My phone beeps—probably Phoebe. Instead, it’s an audio text.
Chase’s familiar, deep, and flirty voice comes through the speaker, but it’s edged with fatigue and misery. “I’m sorry for everything that happened. I’m sorry you left without dinner. I’m sorry if I was anything other than exceptional to you. Youdeserve better. If you’re willing to give me a second—no, a third chance, please meet me in the lobby at nine tomorrow morning. Also, I hope you like this slice.”
The hotel employee lifts the silver cover to reveal a triangular piece of pizza with a pillowy crust and bubbling cheese.
My phone beeps again. “And happy half-birthday, Pippa.”
The hotel staff member lifts the other cover to reveal a cupcake covered in colorful sprinkles and with a single candle in the middle.
“Thank you,” I call to the worker as he retreats down the hall.
My stomach aches with hunger. I ache for Chase. Setting aside table manners, I devour dinner and dessert.
For so long, I felt powerless. I couldn’t control what my parents, his, or Marlow were doing. Everything felt out of control. Yes, I’m just one person, but I can tell Chase how I feel about him and that has to mean something. As I plan what I’ll say, I fall asleep, which means I’ll just have to wing it.
The next morning,when I wake up, light streams through a break in the long drapes. It takes me a moment to remember where I am and why. The clock indicates it’s almost eleven.
Chase asked me to meet him at nine in the hotel lobby. Despite all the tumult, the yo-yo back and forth between student and teacher, friendship and relationship, crush and love, I want to give Chase the third chance he requested.
I want to give him all the chances.
Only, I worry that I’m too late, literally. Still in my pajamas, I break my rules about appearance and hurry out the door. My heart hammers in my chest as the elevator seems to stop at every floor as it descends. When I get to the lobby, I scan for a tall,handsome football star. A few people mill around, some check in and others check out.
I let out a long-held breath.
Chase came after me in his own, cheesy and sweet way—the cupcake was edible and not a sponge covered in frosting. However, I blew it with no thanks to my rotten luck, having overslept.
I hang my head as I walk slowly toward the elevator. An announcer’s voice on the television cuts through the clicking of heels, the chatter of voices, and the whooshing of the revolving door at the front of the hotel.
I turn slowly to see the silhouette of a man in the lounge. An old football highlight reel plays on the TV in the background. He tosses a few bills on the table and turns in my direction.
Chase’s frown transforms into his flirty smile, lifting my own.
His eyes sparkle and relief washes through them.
