With This Heart(101)

“             Give me a few so that I can put them over in the Architecture school. I’m a professor over there.” My eyes practically bulged out of my head at his words. Could he truly be serious? He was going to help me?

I grabbed a dozen and handed them over to him with shaky hands. I couldn’t believe the turn of events. Before he turned to walk away, he looked up at me and narrowed his eyes.

“             I met a girl when I was studying abroad in Italy. We walked the same path to college every day and I never worked up the courage to stop and talk to her. I’d hate for you to have the same             regret.” He nodded to himself, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips before he turned and walked off with a confident stride. I felt like I’d stepped into the twilight zone. A laugh escaped my lips as I stood there, completely dumbfounded, watching him disappear around the corner.

When he was gone, I glanced down at the sheet of paper, trying to read it from his perspective.




Distressed Damsel Seeks Brawny Hero



If you’re reading this right now, chances are you’re an extra in my love story. But I need your help. You play a vital role in how my story ends.

My name is Abby Mae, and one year ago, I gave up a part of my life that I thought I’d be able to live without. I knew I was doing the right thing, but now I’m left wondering what could have been.

If you’ve ever had a missed chance at finding love, or if you’ve ever locked eyes with a girl across a coffee shop, or a guy next to you on the bus, this is that moment for me. I’m making my move and I’m throwing myself at fate in hopes that the boy I’m seeking will find this note.

I can’t divulge his name, but our story is short and sweet, and I think you deserve to hear it:



He was a handsome guy in a baseball cap and I was a cynical girl picking out an urn.

He was a stubborn boy who weaseled his way into my road trip and I was a girl who learned that you can never have enough s’mores.

Caroline was my friend that cut our trip in half and we were the ones to appreciate the indefinity of our timelines.

He was a boy that watched me sing karaoke and I was the girl who almost got us kicked out of the bar.

John Denver was our road trip muse and I learned to trust the power of his songs.

I was a girl who chose to Dare and not Drink and he was a boy that screamed he liked me into the ocean.



He left because I forced his hand, but now I’m begging him to understand my reasons.

If you’re that guy, meet me in The Alchemist statue tomorrow at six pm. If none of that story rings a bell, please help me and pass this note along so that I can find him.





I chuckled under my breath at the fact that the distinguished professor wanted to play a part in my story. If he believed in the note, then maybe Beck would as well.

The sound of a skateboard slamming up onto the curb pulled me out of the moment and I glanced up. In a matter of minutes, the campus had transitioned from a ghost town into a bustling zoo. I frowned and took in the people swarming around me, trying to spy a pair of familiar hazel eyes or brown hair hidden beneath a baseball cap. Instead, I found a rather diversified mix of students that looked nothing like Beck.

I still had a pile of papers in my arms, but students were stopping to check out the ones I’d already posted and there was no way I could continue posting more without them noticing me. In a rush, I gathered up all of my supplies and started heading back toward the Harvard Bridge.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


The next day dragged by at a snail’s pace. I craned my neck off my pillow to see that it was eight in the morning. The next time I checked it was eight fifteen.

“             Motherf-” I groaned into my pillow, allowing it to drown out the end of my curse.

I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until around two am the night before. Then, when I did finally sleep, visions of Beck laughing while I stood inside the statue crying had circled in my head until I’d bolted awake in a cold sweat. I should mention that I was dressed up as a T-Rex in the dream, so I’m not sure what my brain was trying to tell me other than that I shouldn’t dress up as a dinosaur if I wanted to win Beck back. Maybe I should steer clear of costumes all together.

I rolled myself off my bed and went to my closet to pick out the clothes I would wear later. Jeans and a long-sleeved striped fitted shirt. Not too shabby, but it didn’t look like I was trying too hard either. Once my clothes were lying on my bed, I sunk down to the floor.