I type quickly, then hit send.
Zoey: Sorry, I went in earlier when I was short on cash for the pizza guy.
I put the cell down for a moment, rushing to the bathroom. Since I’ve adopted healthy eating habits two days ago, I’ve started drinking two liters of water a day. According to online articles, that’s how much water your body needs to stay hydrated. In turn, I need to pee every goddamn minute. A glimpse into life as an old lady with a bladder problem.
Feeling relieved, I wander back to my room and see his response.
Drew: Stay out of my room, Zoey!
I quickly type, noticing my battery is down to one percent. I can make it—live on the edge! Drew hates it when he sees my battery so low. He starts panicking at twenty percent, searching for a charger like he only has seconds to live.
Zoey: Kidding! I haven’t had pizza since last week. You’d be proud of me, I bought a pineapple instead. Bringing fortune and healthy eating into the house.
A smiley face appears on my screen accompanied by his message.
Drew: Good girl. I’ll be back tomorrow for your birthday. Stay out of my room!
Only one more day until he’s back. I’d be glad to have him back home despite the awkwardness between us.
Zoey: I will, drama queen. See you tomorrow, roomie.
I assume it’s the end of our conversation and I’m surprised to hear my cell chime again.
Drew: And Zoey…
The bubble appears. And Zoey what? I’m sitting on the edge of my bed tapping my feet nervously on the floor. Staring at the screen, watching the bubble do its thing as if he’s writing some long message.
Dear God, hurry up!
Then, because the iPhone gods want to punish me, my screen goes completely black.
Battery dead.
Nooo!
Serves me right for being an adrenaline junkie. I race over to my desk plugging it in. The few minutes it takes to charge and power up feels like a lifetime. Worse yet, I need to pee again. I don’t, and instead, I cross my legs and skip on the spot trying to ignore the urge.
When the screen turns on, I enter my passcode at record speed and open my messages. Staring at the box, there it is, the long message I assumed he’d send.
Drew: I miss you.
Oh.
He misses me. It’s the perfect opportunity to tell him that I miss him, yet I don’t know how. I want to say so much more than that. Gosh, I want to pour my heart out to him and tell him how the butterflies in my stomach are all because of him.
But I don’t.
I grab my iPod and walk across the hall and into his room. The second I enter, I only smell Drew. It feels right, and it feels like home. His room, as usual, is neat and tidy. His bed is made, the navy-blue cover tucked into the sides of the bed. The pillows are positioned perfectly just like in a hotel room.
I lie down on his bed and turn the iPod on, playing All Through the Night by Cyndi Lauper, realizing that Drew and I have a past—one that can never be erased. We’ve gone through so much and leaned on each other more times than I can count. Yet, everything we experienced was as friends. Taking the next step will be huge—that’s if he wants to do that.
There’s only one thing I am sure of. Despite everything going on, I want to go to London. To finally do something for myself and be the person I know I can be.
And if Drew has any feelings for me, he will understand and encourage me to go.
Long distance—we can make it work.
The next morning, I march straight into Mr. Becker’s office.