"Just a joke I saw on Facebook," I said, passing it off. Although, the look on her face told me she didn't buy it. Thank God she didn't press for more details and walked away with a shrug.
"Are we still getting together tomorrow after work? Mike won't be back from his trip until late, so you have me until like nine."
My stomach sank momentarily. I didn't want to think about Mike's trip, because it would only remind me of Nolan's reaction to being invited. Which, in turn, made my heart shatter over the vast difference in attitudes between Mike and Nolan. I hated to think about it. All I wanted to do was make things better for him, but I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I'd never be able to get him to the places he refuses to go.
"Yeah. Sounds good. But you're bringing the wine. And I get to pick the movie."
"Can I make a suggestion at least?"
I quirked my eyebrow at her. "We're not watching Fifty Shades … it's completely unfair. After it's over, you get to see Mike, and I'll be left at home all alone. I'm thinking it's more of a Pitch Perfect kinda night."
"Acca-awesome."
"Never say that again." I fought my own facial muscles to suppress the grin wanting to form. I knew I was in need of some girl time, and there was no one better than Shari to give it to me. Even if she did say the lamest things I'd ever heard come out of someone's mouth.
That night, I'd gone to bed without receiving a text from Nolan, and it made my heart bleed out into my chest and flood my lungs, preventing me from breathing properly. I'd grown so used to hearing from him before bed for the last two nights, his absence literally caused me pain.
But when I woke up, he more than made up for his silence the night before. The time stamps on his texts showed they started at three in the morning.
Beautiful Boy: Streetlights on an empty road.
Beautiful Boy: Wind in my face when it's too dark to see anything.
Beautiful Boy: Birds flying in a perfectly synchronized V together.
And the last one came moments before I woke up.
Beautiful Boy: I love you.
I sat in bed and debated a response for several long minutes, each tick of the clock forcing my heart to beat faster, harder. By the time my ribcage became battered and bruised, as if I'd been hit with an airbag from the inside, I typed out my reply, sent it, and then I put my phone down to prevent myself from obsessing. If I waited much longer to get ready for work, I'd be late.
Me: I'm unsure what your messages mean, but I appreciate them. I love you, too, Nolan. Don't ever forget that. I'm always here for you when you're ready to talk. I have no idea what you're going through, but it's clear from the last few days it's something. I only hope it's something good. But either way, I'm here.
I got out of my shower … no reply.
I got to the studio … nothing.
I set up for my first client … silence.
Hours came and went with no messages from Nolan. To be honest, I was a little surprised, since I'd responded to him less than fifteen minutes after his last text. But I had to remind myself that over the last few days, his responses came in whenever he chose to send them, not when I expected them.
I'd tortured myself for half the day, trying to interpret what his messages meant. It proved to be impossible, considering I had no idea where his head was at. The last time I saw or actually spoke with him, he was in a very dark and lonely place.
I didn't know if they were cries for help.
I prayed they weren't desperate pleas.
But as I thought back to each and every one of them-which I pretty much knew by heart since I'd read them so many times-I had a hard time believing they were.
They seemed so full of hope.
Which could've been wishful thinking.
My finger hovered over the keypad on my phone when Shari walked over. I wanted to ask him if I had anything to worry about, but her presence made me close out of the message app and put my phone away.
Her narrowed eyes let me know she was onto me, yet she never said anything. Instead, she grabbed her purse off my desk and headed to the front door, shouting over her shoulder, "If I get to your house first, I'm picking the movie. And what I choose will make Christian Grey look like a pansy."
I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn't see me, and then I followed her out. At this point, I no longer cared what we watched as long as I had some company and distraction. I couldn't stand the sound of my own thoughts any longer.
My phone pinged from my purse on my way home, and I found myself begging for a light to turn red so I could read the message. I didn't even know who it was from, but the idea of it being Nolan left me impatient and beyond eager.
Lady Luck had added me to her shit list years ago, so it came as no surprise I hit every green light on the way home. And then Shari pulled into my driveway right behind me, not allowing me a moment to myself before opening my car door. It was as if she possessed some sort of power to know I had a text waiting for me, and found humor in not giving me time to read it.
I unlocked my front door and made a beeline to the bathroom while leaving Shari to pour the wine. I couldn't wait a moment longer to check my phone, and needed to be alone to do so.
It wasn't that I didn't want to share things with my best friend, but after she'd witnessed Nolan's meltdown last weekend at dinner, I didn't think I was ready for her opinion on the subject.
Beautiful Boy: Completely naked in the middle of nowhere.
A laugh vibrated inside my chest, yet my eyes burned. His texts had become more and more cryptic, and the not knowing began to eat at me.
Me: Are you listing things on your bucket list??
His response came in immediately, and I released the heavy breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. I must've been holding it for days, because it was loud and long, and it left me lighter than air once it was out.
Beautiful Boy: If I were listing things on my bucket list, I would have said something like … you in a white dress. Or your last name being the same as mine.
The burning behind my eyes intensified until streams of tears ran down my face. His words should have calmed the raging storm inside, but they did the opposite. They left me with even more questions until I found myself calling his phone.
I was quickly sent to voicemail before another text came through.
Beautiful Boy: I can't talk on the phone … too loud. I wouldn't be able to hear you.
Me: Where are you?
I stared at my phone for so long and became so absorbed in waiting for a reply, the knock on the bathroom door startled me.
"What the hell are you doing in there?" Shari asked, yelling louder than necessary. "You've been in there for like ten minutes."
I flushed the toilet-even though I hadn't even used it-and called out, "It has not been that long. And I got sidetracked with Candy Crush." I flung the door open in time to catch her look of disbelief.
Shari had designed my bullshit meter.
I couldn't get anything past her.
"Give me your phone." She held out her hand with the other propped against her hip. "You swore off that game months ago when you couldn't get past level fifty."
I pushed my phone into my back pocket and walked around her. "It was level sixty-seven, and I figured it was worth another try. Turns out, I still can't beat it. Now where's my wine?"
We went out to the living room and each took our spots on the couch with our glasses of wine. I couldn't help but remember the last time we did this … which had been the night Nolan reached out for the first time.
Thinking of that made me yearn to text him again. And after ten minutes of trying to convince myself not to, I finally gave in, ignoring the holes Shari's stare burned into the side of my head.
Me: So are you going to tell me what these messages mean?
I locked my phone and turned my attention back to the movie, but it didn't take long for it to vibrate in my hand. I knew this would spark interest with Shari, and she'd more than likely want to talk about it, but I couldn't ignore the burning in my hand caused by my phone.
Beautiful Boy: They're things that make me happy. I wanted to let you know what they were.
The grin on my face began to cause pain in my cheeks, but I couldn't make it go away. It'd been the first smile in a week, and I never wanted to let it go.
Me: Will I ever get to hear about them in person? I miss you.
Of course, he didn't respond.
I held onto my phone for the remainder of the movie, checking it every now and then with the hopes I'd somehow missed the vibration. However, no matter how many times I checked it, I still had nothing to see.
"I don't understand why you couldn't let me watch what I wanted to. You've been preoccupied by your phone this entire time. It's obvious you don't want to talk about it, yet you sit here and act like everything is fine when we both know it isn't. Meanwhile, I'm the one being tortured by this chick flick."