“Time to go home,” Mason calls, but for the first time in my life, Mama doesn’t acknowledge him.
Her focus is solely on me.
And that alone makes the tears spill harder as I sob into her chest, letting myself fall apart one last time before the car pulls away.
One Month Later
One more swipe of my cherry lip balm and a quick brush through my sweaty hair should be good enough.
Mama gets home from work in ten minutes, which means Nate and I have a short window to Skype.
Unfortunately, I also just got home from the school gym and look a mess, but it’s Nate, and he’d be happy if I showed up in a garbage bag.
Nate’s intense sailing workouts have motivated me to start running, even though I’m not sure why.
I hate it more and more every day, but the high I get when I’m done is no joke.
I check the clock again, making sure I haven’t misjudged the time.
Mama is well aware that I still talk to Nate. It’s the unspoken subject that lingers around our home that neither of us acknowledges.
Deep down, I know she still believes our relationship will fizzle, but I’m thankful she’s kept her mouth shut.
Something shifted between us on the last day of camp.
Maybe it was because of how broken I was, or maybe she saw something in me she hadn’t before. I don’t know. But I’m not complaining.
With Mason gone, home has been easier than I ever expected.
Daddy’s been MIA, working late, which is a relief. The last thing I need is for Mama to accidentally slip up about Nate and have to deal with his reaction.
The familiar ping of my laptop makes my heart race. I can’t run and press accept quickly enough.
Nate bought me a laptop the day we got home. Thankfully, it arrived while Mama and Daddy were at work.
They would think it’s frivolous, and I’d be worried they would take it away.
I don’t know one other person in town who has one.
Mason didn’t even have one until he left for college.
The call connects.
“Hi!” My smile stretches the width of my face, my heart swelling the second I see him. “How did you do on your test?”
“Aced it.” He smiles back. “Mads. You look beautiful today.”
“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself. Did you just shower?”
He leans back against his bed and crosses his arms behind his head, making his biceps flex in a way that should be illegal.
His waved hair is damp, and light stubble dusts his face, but it does nothing to hide his chiseled jaw. I wish I could reach into the phone and run my fingers over every inch of him.
God, I miss him.
“Yeah,” he says. “I was on the boat longer than expected, so I rushed back. I knew we didn’t have a lot of time.”
“I’m glad you did. I miss you.” My voice softens. “I hate that I’m not there with you. I wish I were lying beside you…touching you.”
