To the Stars
Page 35

 Molly McAdams

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“I am,” she responded seriously, and patted my arm with her tiny hand; her head was still tilted back in a vain attempt to see the stars. “And you’re my bravest Superman.”
Chapter 10
Harlow
Summer 2010—Walla Walla
I STARED AT my phone for a few seconds once it stopped spinning, then put my fingers on the screen and gave it another spin.
“Just call him,” I whispered to my empty dorm room for probably the twentieth time this afternoon. “He’ll answer this time . . .” He has to. I thought the last words to myself, unable to voice them.
Slamming my hand down on the phone, I brought the screen to life and tapped on it a few times until it was dialing Knox. The small pieces of my heart that had been cracking over the past month broke off as the phone continued to ring.
When his voice mail began, I hung up without leaving a message.
I’d only been gone from Seattle for a month, and already it felt as if I’d lost him. It had felt like that within the first two weeks. He hadn’t answered any of my calls, and had only called me twice. They had been short conversations, of him asking if I was having fun, and pushing me to go have more fun. “Go experience everything you can,” he’d said before the last call had ended.
For the first time in more than two years, he hadn’t told me he was waiting for me. The only hope I’d clung to was his parting phrase of “To the stars, Low.”
His few texts each week didn’t seem like the guy who was always dying to talk to me. None of it was like Knox at all, and I’d cried myself to sleep every night since leaving Seattle—much to my roommate’s frustration.
She just didn’t understand—not that I’d attempted to explain it to her, since she wasn’t what you would call friendly—that it felt like I was losing what I knew would be the greatest love of my life. It didn’t matter if I wasn’t even eighteen yet, and it didn’t matter if I’d never been allowed to be with Knox.
It’s impossible to find the other half of your soul and not recognize it for what it is. So how do you explain to someone that the other half of your soul is pulling away? How do I explain it to myself?
Knox’s texts just kept prompting me to go have fun . . . to live it up. I didn’t want to live it up without him. When he finally did text me I didn’t want to only talk about what party I had been to. I wanted to tell him how much I missed him and to know that he was missing me.
Instead, I was now stuck between a place of knowing I had to get in touch with him and hoping I wouldn’t hear from him, because I didn’t know how to tell him what was going on in my life.
I’d been grabbing coffee on campus my first week here, and nearly every seat had been taken. Two guys who were starting their junior years walked in and asked if they could use the remaining chairs at my table. Somehow I’d ended up talking to them for a while, then only one of them, and then I’d found myself at an all-night diner with him for hours after. I’d seen him regularly over the past weeks, the first few times refusing to admit I was on a date with someone. And now . . . I looked at my phone for the time and released a nervous breath when I saw I only had a few minutes before he showed up to take me on another date.
It’s just a date, I reminded myself. It’s just a date. You and Knox have both had dates. You’ve both been in relationships. I tried to ignore the fact that it’d been well over a year for both of us as I kept chanting. He’ll be okay with some dates . . . if he ever decides to call again.
When a text popped up from Knox I gasped and reached for my phone faster than should’ve been possible. My fingers fumbled to open up the message, and when I read it my body sagged.
Knox Alexander: Gonna be busy this weekend, Low. You should be too! Go have fun.
I felt another crack form in my heart as I read the words over and over again, searching for any kind of hidden meaning. I didn’t find one, but I knew then that I was right. I was losing him.
I wanted to beg him to tell me what was going on. I wanted to plead with him to reassure me that nothing could ever come between us. I wanted him to stop breaking my heart.
I cleared my throat and blinked back tears when there was a knock on my door. As much as I wanted to tell the guy waiting for me on the other side that tonight wasn’t the best night, I knew a night out with him was exactly what I needed. As soon as I’d stopped comparing him to Knox, I’d started enjoying being around him more and more. And though I’d never admit it to him, I craved the way his perfect smile unintentionally healed each crack Knox left in my heart.
“Collin, hey!” I said brightly when I opened the door, and was taken aback—as I always was—by how overwhelmingly gorgeous he was.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured as he leaned in to kiss my cheek.
My eyes widened, and I tried to suppress my smile at the unexpected act. I didn’t know what to think about the fact that it also wasn’t unwelcome.
Collin took a step back. “Are you ready?”
“Uh, yes. I just need my purse,” I mumbled as I grabbed it off my bed. With one last look at my phone, I left it lying on the desk. I knew if I had it on me, I would want to check it. “So where are we going?”
“Dinner,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. I would’ve worried about how quiet he was being, but the way his lips kept tilting up eased the awkwardness. “I already know you don’t like eggs . . . but is there anything else I should know about?”
I shook my head slowly as I thought about it. “No,” I said, drawing out the word. “I don’t think so. Why, are we going somewhere with weird food? I’ve never had sushi, so I can’t really tell you if I’ll like it.”
He huffed. “We’re not going to get sushi.”
“Okay, well then, I’m sure whatever it is will be—oh how cute,” I whispered as we exited the building, only to see a horse-drawn carriage out front. I turned to walk toward the parking lot, but stumbled awkwardly when Collin led me toward the carriage instead. “What are you doing?”
Collin glanced at the carriage, then back to me. Suddenly his sheepish smile from inside the building made sense. “I thought we’d go to dinner like this.”
“In a carriage?” I asked in awe.
“Why not?” he asked with another shrug.