Oh god. Is that why he’s gone? Did he wake up and remember what day it is and panic? Are we supposed to do something for Valentine’s Day? We’re fake dating except we’re not really fake dating anymore except we also haven’t defined what we’re actually?—
I can feel the anxiety building, that familiar tightness in my chest, the way my thoughts start moving too fast. He probably just went to get coffee. Or breakfast. Or literally anything that isn’t him fleeing to the airport.
I force myself to sit up, pushing hair out of my face. The room is too quiet. His suitcase is still open on the luggage rack, clothes spilling out in his typical unorganized chaos.
Okay so he didn’t bolt.
That’s when I see it.
A note on his pillow, my name written in his terrible scratchy handwriting.
My hands aren’t steady when I pick it up.
Good morning, JuJu. I needed to run out for a bit. Be back by 10. Don’t leave the room without me. Also: I know what day it is. Do you? -R
I read it three times.
Do you?
Like it’s a challenge. Like he’s daring me to acknowledge it’s Valentine’s Day and we’re whatever we are and yesterday he kissed me in front of my entire family like he was staking a claim.
I should not find this as attractive as I do.
I get out of bed and walk to the bathroom, bringing my phone with me. While the water heats up I check my messages.
Olivia
Happy Valentine’s Day lovebirds! Rehearsal is at 5pm don’t be late
Mom
Have fun today sweetheart. You and Rodriguez should explore the city.
And one from a number I don’t recognize, though I know exactly who it is.
Hey Jules. It’s Garrett. Can we talk?
I stare at that last one for a long moment, my stomach twisting.
No. Absolutely not. Whatever Garrett wants to say, I don’t want to hear it. Not today. Not ever.
I delete the text without responding, pushing my thumb hard against the screen. Like I could delete him from existence if I just press hard enough.
The shower is scalding hot, exactly how I like it. I stand under the spray and try to organize my thoughts into something coherent.
Yesterday at the falls, something shifted. I felt it, that click when Rodriguez smiled at me. The realization that I’m not just falling for him. I’ve already fallen. Past tense. Done deal.
And last night he said he’s all in. Whatever this is, wherever it goes.
Which means what? That we’re actually doing this? That when we fly home Monday, we’re going to try?—
The thought makes me feel something that’s suspiciously like hope.
I finish showering and spend more time than necessary on my hair and makeup. It’s not a performance to make Garrett jealous, it’s simply wanting to look nice. For him. For me.
I let my hair air-dries in loose waves instead of the sleek style I usually force it into. Minimal makeup. Jeans and a soft cream sweater. The blue scarf Rodriguez bought me is draped over the chair, waiting.
When I come out of the bathroom, it’s almost 10 which means Rodriguez should be back soon. Suddenly I’m nervous.
