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Wild(101)

By:Sophie Jordan


            “Of course, he’ll probably be seeing someone by then,” she added. “He’ll have a date with him. Probably a girlfriend.”

            “Stop. Stop it.”

            “It hurts, right?”

            I nodded, pressing my fingers to my mouth, holding the tears inside.

            “Well, it wouldn’t hurt if there wasn’t something there. If you didn’t love him.”

            I nodded, but didn’t let a sound escape. I didn’t dare. Not for her to hear.

            “Georgia,” she pleaded softly. “I almost lost Reece . . . and myself. Don’t let that happen to you. Your home is here. Come back. It will all work out if you just come home. I’ll help you figure it out. We all will. That’s what friends do.”

            I inhaled, closing my eyes tightly. “I have to go.”

            Her answering sigh rippled through me. “Good-bye, Georgia.”

            I hung up the phone and clutched it in my hand for a few moments before flipping to my photos. There was a group shot in there at Mulvaney’s taken a few months ago. Pepper, Reece, Emerson, Shaw, Suzanne. Even Annie was in there, tagging along with the group—whether we wanted her or not. I laughed, the watery sound filling the silence of my room.

            And Logan. He was there, too. Coincidentally, he was next to me, his strong arm draped over my shoulders for the picture. My chest clenched. Not coincidental. I knew that now. There had been something even then, drawing us together before either one of us realized it. Or at least before I did.

            I zoomed in on his face and let the ache in my chest intensify as I studied his strong features. The deeply set eyes and the square jaw. The golden-brown shadow of a beard growing in. The brilliant blue of his eyes seemed to stare directly into my heart.

            I curled into a tight ball as dusk slid into night, tapping the screen of my phone every minute or so, stopping Logan’s face from going dark.

            I don’t know how long I did this. Half an hour? An hour? Staring at his face, sodden in my longing and misery, a breath shuddered past my lips. I flipped to my contacts, to Logan’s name, and started texting before I lost my courage. I started several messages, deleting them all before settling on one.

            Me: I’m sorry

            At the very least he was due an apology. I went back to the photo of us, not expecting an immediate reply. Not after our last exchange at the police precinct when I had let us both down. When his message popped up, my heart tripped a little, feeling suddenly connected to him through this tenuous thread of dialogue. Even if he was halfway across the country.

            Logan: What for?

            Me: Everything

            I wish I could take back the words I had said. I wish I had been more honest with him . . . with myself. I’d still be stuck in Muskogee, but there wouldn’t be the foul taste in my mouth whenever I thought of my last sight of him.

            Logan: Where r u?

            Me: Still at home. Alabama.

            I’m sure he’d been apprised of my change in location by Pepper and Reece. For a moment, it appeared he was typing, and then nothing. I was reminded of his resolve that night in the police precinct. He was finished waiting on me. Inhaling a watery breath, I typed again.

            Me: I wish I could do things over . . .

            He didn’t reply. I stared at the screen for a few moments, resigning myself to the fact that he wouldn’t. Those words were enough. As much as I could offer. I wouldn’t tell him that I loved him. That wouldn’t be fair. Not with me stuck here and him there. He had moved on, and I was taking his advice and growing up.