Found in Us (Lost 2)

He pauses, as if waiting for confirmation.

“Assuming, aren’t we?” I think he can hear that I said the words on a grin.

“After tonight, I have no doubts.”

“Ah! Well, I’m the one who will keep you on your toes now. I will neither confirm, nor deny that.”

He laughs whole-heartedly. “I’m glad you moved to London, Jess.”

“And I’m glad you’re saying that. But I really have to go to bed now. I have to wake up early.”

“Take care.”

“I will.”

Chapter Six

Jessica

When my phone alarm rings, I have the distinct impression that my head will fall off if I don't get more sleep. One glance at the phone’s screen shows why. It's five o'clock in the morning, one full hour before I usually wake up. I curse my stupidity and almost turn off the alarm, when I remember that I set it to ring at five on purpose—I have a Skype call scheduled with Serena in a few minutes. I jump from my bed, the thought suddenly filling me with energy. I haven't spoken with Serena in two weeks, both of us too busy working during the week and sleeping on the weekends. The time zone difference doesn't help our case, either, which is why we settled on this lousy hour. It’s late in the evening for Serena.

I open my laptop and turn it on, then walk to the kitchen and hurriedly pour myself a cup of coffee. When I get back, I hide the pack of cigarettes on my bedside table. Still, I'm sure Serena will lecture me about smoking. I swear that girl can smell smoke through everything. Perfume, air freshener, and now that there's an ocean between us, through the screen of my laptop. She was very strict about the whole smoking thing when we lived together, and I could only smoke in my own room. Dani couldn't care less about it, but I mostly smoke here in my room anyway.

Old habits die hard.

I log into Skype and check that the webcam works. Joy overwhelms me when Serena appears on the screen, and then—

"Oh my God, we've been robbed," I yelp, almost spilling the coffee on myself.

I should've said you've been robbed, but I lived in that apartment for four years, and it still feels like home in many ways. But hers or ours, the place is utterly and completely empty. I strain my eyes, thinking that maybe I'm not seeing properly, which might be entirely possible at this ungodly hour. Nope, still empty. Serena is sitting on the floor, the space behind her devoid of the couch that sat there for four years, the shelves on the wall empty.

"You are moving out?" I say slowly.

"Bingo," Serena says, a sad smile crossing her face.

"Why? Where?"

"With James. Both of us work a lot and barely spend time with each other. I sleep at his place a lot, and sometimes he spends the night here, so we decided it's best to live together in his penthouse."

"So where is he?"

"In my room, packing my DVDs. It's kind of sad, leaving this place," she says, looking around. I know that feeling only too well. Moving out was a bittersweet experience. I was excited to move to London, but I dreaded leaving everything: Serena, our apartment, and the tons of things I couldn't take to London with me due to the airline's ridiculous weight limit.

Which reminds me . . . "What are you doing with all the stuff I left there?"

Serena bites her lip. "Umm . . . well, this is sort of why I insisted we have this call today."

"You can't throw it out," I warn.

"Not throw it out," Serena says with gentleness, "donate it."

I frown. "That's the same thing. I still won't have it anymore."

"You don't need it, Jess," Serena says.

"You never know."

"You said so. You said you were only taking things you absolutely need."