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I roll over, pulling out my phone from under the pillow. Swiping the screen, I navigate to the conversation between us. His last message is still there, hanging in the digital ether, unanswered. His words are a clumsy bandage over a wound that I’m not sure how to heal.
Callum:hey, I’m really sorry about last night. wasn’t thinking straight. can we talk?
The message blurs as a thousand thoughts race through my mind. Part of me wants to continue to ignore it, to protect myself from more disappointment. But another part, a part I’ve tried so hard to silence, whispers that this is my last chance to clear the air, to find closure, to let my feelings finally go to the grave.
So, maybe I did overreact.
Maybe it was just a joke, a bad one, admittedly, but not something to end a newly rekindled friendship over. I’ve known him almost all my life. He’s seen me through scraped knees, through the turmoil of high school, through every victory and loss that mattered.
And yet, now I can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever truly see me again. Not as his childhood friend but as the woman I’ve become.
I remember the little girl who watched him from the sidelines, who carved his name into the base of her favorite tree house. That girl is long gone, but the woman who replaced her is still just as lost when it comes to him.
That soft brown hair, those dark and piercing eyes, the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, and the perfect smile on his full lips. A smile that once tilted my entire world on its axis.
The truth is, Callum and I drifted because I stopped making an effort. We almost kissed, and then ... nothing. I was forced to pretend like my universe hadn’t shifted. Like seeing him around other girls wasn’t a visceral stab to the chest.
So, like the slow retreat of the tide, I simply stopped reaching out. I stopped reaching for the phone, stopped sharing the trivialities of my day, and in that space, the gap widened, leaving us strangers clutching at a shared past.
Like a fool, I waited for him to come after me. And he never did. Though, I know it’s not solely his fault for letting go. Adult life just has a way of doing that—eroding the foundations of even the strongest relationships.
Over time, we’ve become two people who knew each other less and less, despite a shared history that spans over a decade.
A sigh escapes me, a surrender to the inevitable. I can’t keep avoiding this, whatever this is that’s brewing between us now. I type out a response, my fingers hesitant.
Lila:sure, let’s talk. pizza on campus?
Sent. The message sails off into the void, and with it, the coiled tension within me unravels ever so slightly.
Now, I hover in limbo, waiting on Callum’s reply, dreading the conversation, and seeking some elusive sign that will tell me I’m making the right choices. It’s the uncertainty that nudges me out of bed, the need for resolution stronger than my desire to hide away.
Callum:noon? we’ll meet there for lunch
* * *
The dining hall is buzzing with the lunchtime crowd, a clatter of voices and the scent of cheap food. I spot Callum already there, seated at a corner table with a steaming box of pizza in front of him.
He’s fiddling with his phone, but when he sees me, he stands up, a nervous smile playing on his perfect lips.
“Hey,” he says as I approach, and there’s a hesitant note in his voice that I’m not used to. Callum’s always been confident, sometimes to the point of arrogance, but now he seems ... smaller, somehow.
“Hey,” I say, sliding into the booth opposite him. I take a slice of pizza onto my plate, my appetite nonexistent but knowing I should eat something.
There’s an awkward silence as we both start on our slices. Callum clears his throat, and I brace myself for what’s coming.
“I really am sorry,” he starts, his voice a low rumble of remorse. When he finally meets my gaze, there’s a tangle of sincerity and something else—maybe fear?—that I haven’t seen in his eyes before. “It was a careless joke, and I shouldn’t have gone there. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I might have overreacted a bit,” I admit, fiddling with a tiny piece of crust.
He finally looks up, his gaze intense. “No, you didn’t. I was out of line.”
The silence between us stretches, thick and unwavering. It’s me who breaks it, the words tumbling out in a mix of curiosity and caution. “Do you really think we could just ... fool around like that? Reconnect and jump into bed? Like we didn’t grow up together?”
“No, Li, I don’t think that,” he says, his voice laced with urgency. “I spoke before my brain caught up, and I wish I hadn’t. I’ve never gone there with you before, and I’m not gonna start with that shit now. Not after I just got you back.”
I can’t help but probe further, needing absolute clarity. “So, it was just a joke, then?”
“Yeah, and a shitty one at that.”
