How are you?
Noah let his chest swell, expand, with the air he drew in, and then let it out slowly, along with some of the tension he was feeling. When he was a bit calmer, his slender fingers tapped out a reply.
Okay. I just wanted to say hi.
There was a longer pause this time, and Noah fell back on the bed, half thinking that his pathetic responses had scared Darien off. Things had never been this awkward between them before, and the separation of the distance between them, a deep, wide canyon which text messaging could only partially bridge, didn’t help. The whole middle part of that bridge was missing, and they could only yell across the gap.
Finally, the response came.
I miss you.
That felt like three very dangerous words, and try as he might, Noah couldn’t think of a way to respond. He wanted to tell Darien the truth, that he missed him, too, and that he had the chance to see him again, but his fingers froze on the phone’s screen every time he tried.
Instead, he put his phone aside, and his eyes went right back to the paper, his fingers ghosting over the slightly glossy white surface, marred with the black ink which informed him he could have another chance.
UCLA was a respected school, he told himself, chanting the words as a sort of charm. UCLA could get him where he wanted to go, no doubt about it. He wasn’t thinking about moving across the country just for Darien.
Closing his eyes, he let himself fall into a thin, restless sleep, his mind filled with Darien, with the feel of his hair under his fingertips, their lips pressed together, how the kiss had been sweet, almost chaste, at first, but had quickly deepened into something that had left Noah desperate and aching for more.
A more which had never come. But maybe, just maybe, if Noah could be brave enough, it would come.
