“That can’t be a bad thing.” Sydney smiles knowingly. “That man is something to think about.”
Normally, I’d say something snarky in return to a comment like that but instead, I sigh heavily as I try to explain my whirling thoughts. “He came over to say goodbye, but since he’s left… I’ve… just been… thinking.”
“We all know how dangerous your mind is,” she teases. “Can you hold off on world domination for a little longer?”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” I chastise. “I was just thinking about what it meant when he left. I swear he took a part of me with him.”
All traces of teasing disappear from Sydney’s face. “Aww, Abs. It’s okay to like him.”
“That’s the problem, Syd. I think I like him too much. He’s only gone for a couple of days, and I already miss him like crazy. Uggh… He hasn’t even left town. Why am I already like this?” The shocked expression on Sydney’s face would be comical if I weren’t so worried now. I take in a quick breath and continue, “What the hell am I going to do next year when we’re across the country from one another?”
Syd starts to say something, but I cut her off, “See… this right here is why I probably shouldn’t even be dating in the first place. It’s why I haven’t let myself get attached. I don’t know if I can handle it.”
“I know it’s not easy, but you’ll find a way, I’m sure.”
“Oh, come on, Syd. You and I both know long distance equals doom. We have four more years of school… and that doesn’t even cover residency or if either of us specialize in anything.”
Sydney shrugs as she whispers, “True.”
“Even if we do manage to get into the same school, we’ll still have to balance our schedules.” I can’t even begin to fathom what our schedules will look like then.
“How have you managed to date him so far?” Sydney asks quietly.
I shrug. “I don’t know… we just make it work. But we’re in the same city, not across a freaking continent.”
This causes Sydney to sigh heavily as she shakes her head, clearly disgusted with my negative-nelly antics. “So, what are your options? You can continue to enjoy being with Drew, or you can cut him loose.”
“What. The. Hell?” Caught completely off guard, my jaw hangs open.
As I process her words, my gut clenches, and my chest aches. Why is it so hard to breathe?
“Why… why would you say that?” I sputter in disbelief.
Sydney points a finger to my face. “This… right there… Just gave you all the answer you need.”
I open my mouth to say something, but words don’t come out.
Sydney abruptly stands. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m gonna hop in the shower. Some drunk dude spilled a drink all over me, and I feel sticky as the floor in a frat house. I’ll be out in a few minutes if you want to talk some more.”
As I look her over, I finally take notice that her once pink shirt is stained reddish brown. “What the hell was he drinking?” I ask as I inspect her further. The entire drink must’ve landed in her bra because that’s where it’s concentrated.
Sydney just shakes her head. “Red Rooster.”
I have no clue what it is, but from the looks of her shirt, it sure is colorful.
As she walks away, her comment about Drew hits home. I’m not so sure I want to talk about him anymore tonight. I know, I have a major decision to make.
Standing, I stretch to the ceiling in hopes that the weight around my shoulder and back will loosen. No such use. “I think I’m just gonna head to bed. We can talk more tomorrow.”
“I’m here for you, Abs.” Sydney’s voice is filled with sincerity. Until she tacks on, “I just need a shower desperately.”
This earns her a chuckle from me. “Go. Shower. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
As soon as Sydney leaves the room, I grab my Kindle and head to my bedroom.
After brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, all the while, I weigh my options back and forth. Should I break things off with Drew?
Instantly, my gut clenches, and my stomach feels like lead weights sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
Fuucccck… How can I even think like that?
If I feel this strong after knowing him for such a short time, what will it be like when I’m even more invested?
I could just let things go as they are… and let distance and time let things fizzle out naturally? Let’s face it—four years being without him will likely pull us apart on its own. We’ll be broke med students who can’t afford to traipse across the country on random spare moments of time. Though if I’m being honest with myself, losing him in any way, shape, or form is painful.
Going through my nightly routine, I set my alarm and make sure I have everything ready for class tomorrow. As I’m making sure my phone’s on the charger, a text comes through.
Drew: Night, Angel. Sweet dreams.
That’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
Tears pool on my lashes to the point I can’t even see the screen. My heart aches at the thought of my worst fear being inevitable. God, I miss him so much.
I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.
Geez, Abby, why am I even thinking like this?
Because you know it will hurt more when I fall harder, my inner voice quietly whispers.
Get it together, Abby, I chastise myself. Drew doesn’t need me falling apart right now. He needs to focus on his game.
It’s time to put my selfish thoughts aside. I swipe at the tears streaming down my cheeks then quickly type out a reply.
Me: Night. Sweet dreams.
So that I won’t type anymore, I do the hardest thing imaginable. I power my phone down and turn off the light.
Slipping between the sheets, I adjust my pillow and attempt to settle my thoughts. But all I end up doing is tossing and turning. Adjusting my pillow and contemplating what I should do about Drew.
I see my clock read each hour as it slowly slips by.
Just when I finally fall asleep—my alarm sounds. I hit snooze a few times, but when I finally drag myself from my bed, it’s only because I can’t possibly wait another second in the comforts of my blankets without being late for class.
Not even bothering to shower, I quickly brush my teeth and throw on some deodorant. I may not give a shit about much now, but I do have some standards. Dressing in a pair of black leggings and the first t-shirt I touch, I dress in record time. When I see Drew’s oversized hoodie laying on the chair in the corner of my room, my heart clenches.
Wanting to feel closer to him, to help me get through the day, I opt to wear it. He’d left it here while we’d been studying. Though it’s been unworn for days, it still smells of him. I inhale deeply, and my chest aches. God, I miss him.
Glancing at my clock, I panic.
Shit! I have less than twenty minutes to have my ass in a seat. My professor is a stickler for punctuality. He even paces for a full five minutes before class begins, so he can start exactly on time. Fuck. I can’t be late.
Knowing it takes a good twelve minutes to get to the lecture hall, I grab my phone off the charger and slip it into my bag, slide on the first pair of shoes I can wear without going to the trouble of finding socks, and zip out of my apartment.
I manage to make it to class with three minutes to spare. I take my usual place and do my best to focus on the lecture that starts promptly on time. Of course, my concentration’s total shit because with each breath I take, I’m reminded of Drew.
I’ve never been much of a masochist, but I can’t force myself to take off his hoodie. Sure, I probably look like a little girl playing dress up as the sleeves are bunched up, and it hangs long on me, but I gave up long ago worrying about what other people think of my fashion sense, or lack thereof in my case.
I move from class to class throughout the day on auto pilot. I’m physically present in each one, but my mind is nowhere near the walls of any of the classrooms. Nope, my thoughts hopped on the jet plane to North Car
olina now. I want so badly to reach out and talk to him, but knowing he’s somewhere over the Midwest now, I don’t even bother to pull out my phone from my bag.
When I’m finally done with my four classes for the day. I mechanically make my way home. Walking past the mailbox, I remember I haven’t checked it in a while. Knowing my key is at home and my roommates are still in class, I climb the stairs to my apartment and retrieve it.
When I open the box, my heart stalls.
There’s another large white envelope filling up the space.
Slowly, I reach in to read the name. It could be for Chloe or Sydney. But let’s face it, I’m the only one who’s been getting mail like this.
When I notice the logo in the return address, my stomach drops.
My legs feel heavy, and my heartrate feels as if it’s in slow motion.
No way. No freaking way.
I can’t find out today, of all days.
Feeling the weight of the envelope, my heart picks up its pace.
I can’t handle another blow today… I just can’t. The words written in this letter could be the nail in the coffin for Drew and me.
Somehow, I manage to make it upstairs. Once inside, I go straight to my bedroom to be alone when I receive this news.
Carefully, I lay the envelope on my bed and stare at it as if it’s a ticking time bomb.
Should I open it now, or wait?
When I can’t take the suspense any longer, I quickly reach for the envelope and rip it open. I’m rewarded with a friggin’ paper cut.
“Fuck, that hurts!” I shout as I quickly suck on my finger, hoping to take away the pain. Why in the hell does a minuscule cut hurt like hell?
When I notice the paper falls out into my bed in my haste to get the envelope open, I freeze.
Clear as day, I can see the words, “Congratulations, you’ve been accepted…”
That’s all I need to read before I squeal and jump up and down with joy.
Holy shit! I did it! I got into my number one choice school!
Relief washes through me as my pride soars. I’ve worked my ass off for this. Everything is finally paying off. Years of sacrifice and dedication all lead to this moment!
“I fucking got into Johns Hopkins!” I shout to my room as I pump my fist in the air.
I rush to the living room to get my phone. There’s only one person I want to share this news with. I pick up my phone and realize it’s still off from last night. But just as I reach for the button, another thought hits me like a ton of bricks.
Wait…
If I got it, does this mean Drew won’t?
Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. He’s wanted this for so long. It’s one of the best oncology programs in the nation. Remembering Drew’s promise to Summer, I quickly stow my phone in my bag once again.
His focus needs to be on his game tomorrow. Not whether he got into med school. No… There’s no way I can tell him my news, until this tournament is completely over. If they win tomorrow, they’re in the championship round. His focus needs to be on winning this game. Not on me or what school I’ve gotten into.
I just hope he doesn’t hate or resent me when he finds out I didn’t tell him right away.
35
Drew
As I stare at my phone for the millionth time, I will it to have a text or call from Abby. Hell, I’d settle for a message tapped out in Morse Code at this point. Anything to let me know she’s okay. I’ve lost track of the amount of text messages I’ve sent to her throughout the day. When I’ve tried calling, it goes straight to voice mail.
It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since she sent her last text. Just a simple “Sweet dreams. Night” is all I’ve heard from her. Sure, she never responds when she’s in class or at work, but this complete radio silence is killing me.
I’ve even checked her social media accounts, and I can’t see any activity there either. It’s like she’s dropped off the face of the planet. What the hell is going on?
Since we traveled most of yesterday, we have a light practice today, and we play tomorrow night. To distract myself, I go through a light routine at the gym. I try my best not to focus on anything other than the fact that Abby has completely gone off the grid and is AWOL.
As I get ready for bed that night, I’m convinced something must’ve happened to Abby. We’ve never gone this long without talking. Knowing we’re three hours ahead of the West Coast, I finally give in. Scrolling through my contacts, I pull up Sydney’s information. Desperation doesn’t look good on me but without a second’s hesitation, I hit the call button instead of texting. I don’t have time to wait for her to get back to me. I need answers… now.
“Hello?” Sydney answers the phone apprehensively.
“Hey, Syd, it’s Drew. Sorry to bother you, but I haven’t been able to reach Abby all day. Is everything okay?”
“Oh.” Silence fills the air and instantly I’m on hyper alert. Does she know something and not want to tell me?
I hear some rustling in the background. It feels like forever before she finally says something. “Let me check. I haven’t seen her since I got home, but her purse is on the counter, so I’m sure she’s around.”
I hear a light knock on what I assume is Abby’s door.
Sydney quietly says Abby’s name.
There’s a pause.
Then I swear I hear a door shut.
Finally, she puts me out of my misery. “I’m sorry, Drew, but she’s sleeping. I tried talking to her, but she didn’t even stir.”
Relief washes through me. At least she’s safe and sound.
“It’s no problem, Syd. She must be tired if she’s asleep this early.” But a new worry lingers. “Has she mentioned anything about being sick?”
“No. Not that I know of. Want me to leave her a message?”
What do I say that won’t make me look like a crazed lunatic? “Maybe you can just have her check her phone. It’s been off all day.”
I hear a light chuckle come through the phone, and I picture Syd shaking her head. “Sure, no problem. Good luck on your game tomorrow. We’ll be watching you on TV. Give ‘em hell!”
“Thanks, Syd. Please have her call me tomorrow. As weird as this sounds, I’ve felt like something was off all day, and I just can’t explain it. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Oh…” Sydney’s quiet for an unusual length of time. I can’t tell if she’s distracted, or if she doesn’t know what to say. Eventually, she breaks her silence with, “I’ll make sure she gets a hold of you tomorrow.”
I still don’t feel satisfied.
But what can I do?
“Thanks, Syd. I appreciate it,” I say before disconnecting the call.
I force myself to turn off my brain and go to sleep. I have a huge game tomorrow night. There’s a lot riding on it. I need to be well rested. Besides, Grey’s already sleeping in the bed next to me. I don’t want to disturb him any further.
I still haven’t heard from Abby by lunch the next day. I’ve been going through the motions, preparing the best I can for the game this afternoon. I’m trying not to read anything into her radio silence, but it’s proving difficult. Doubt is an evil bitch that gnaws at you until it practically eats you alive.
If I’ve checked my phone once, I’ve checked it no less than a million times throughout the day. I’m surprised the button to activate the screen hasn’t broken from overuse. Finally, just as I’m about to load the bus to head to the arena, a text comes through.
Relief washes over me as her name fills my screen.
Abby: Good luck tonight. I’ll be watching you on TV. Kick some ass.
I want to ask her a million questions, but not wanting to cause any drama before stepping on the court, I stick with simplicity.
Me: Thanks. Will try my best. Love you.
I see those three little dots appear, then disappear, and my heart sinks.
Something’s most definitely wrong. If I weren’t on a crowded bus, I’d call he
r to find out what the hell is going on. This is so unlike Abby.
“You okay, man?” Grey asks, breaking my focus on a self-imposed pity party.
“Yeah.” I try to sound convincing, but I’m a shit liar. Thankfully, Grey doesn’t call me on it. He can tell something’s off, but I don’t want to worry him. We have too much at stake to make my problems become his.
Before I can give my phone anymore thought, I stash it in my gym bag, where I refuse to look at it again until this game is over. This isn’t the time to have my head out of the game. When the bus stops, I stand, willing my focus to be on the here and now—not at home with Abby.
All through warm-ups, my attention is shit.
I go through the motions, but I’m not connecting with my team.
Thankfully, Coach doesn’t notice, or he’d rip me a new asshole.
When we go back into the locker room before the game starts, Grey pulls me aside. So that others don’t hear, he harshly whispers, “Drew, whatever shit’s going on inside of that head of yours—block it out. We’ve worked too fucking hard to let it go up in flames.”
This knocks the wind out of me.
I look around the locker room at my team and realize he’s right. I cannot do this to my team.
Closing my eyes, I take a steadying breath and release it slowly. When I open my eyes, I hope he can see my determination.
Failure isn’t an option.
“Okay… let’s do this!”
Once the game starts, I manage to keep Abby out of my mind. Thank God, I find my rhythm and easily fall into sync with my team. North Carolina’s one hell of a team, and we need every player on deck to pull off a win.
By halftime, we’re down by seven points. We head into the locker room, knowing we’re down, but not out of this game. Our coaching staff tells us where we’re making strides and what our shortcomings are. Coach gives us one last pep talk before we’re back out on the court to finish off this game.
Somehow, by the skin of our teeth, we manage to pull off a huge upset. The home crowd is devastated to find CRU will be in the championship game next week instead of them. CRU fans are ecstatic, and their energy sizzles throughout the arena and into the locker room.
Drew: Book One of the Perfectly Independent Series Page 27
