I jerk my head up to see her lying back down on the grass, arm draped over her eyes to block out the sun.
I met Jenna Wilbanks during first semester move-in week when she came barrelling down our hall with a bright turquoise suitcase and started unpacking her things, talking a mile a minute before I managed to get a word in to tell her that she was in the wrong room.
She’s down the hall in her actual room now, but we’ve been attached at the hip ever since. She’s from the Pacific Northwest, so we couldn’t have grown up more differently, but she’s my kindred spirit in every way. She even begged to visit Larkspur with me over fall break, spending the full week squealing every time she saw even the most mundane of small town clichés.
“It’s just like Friday Night Lights, I didn’t think shit like this was real!”
At first I was nervous about introducing her to Jack and Abby–I’ve never had to mix friend groups before, and I was convinced that somehow my three favorite people would hate each other. Even though Jack and Abby have also been friends for years, and Jenna has never met a stranger.
To my immense surprise, Jack and Jenna have eerily similar niche interests, and talked about how scientists use samples from the ice caps to determine when volcanic eruptions have occurred for the better part of an hour until they remembered that I was, in fact, still at the table with them.
When Abby came over for a sleepover, it was a huge relief that they instantly clicked. It then became a huge nightmare, because the two of them together is akin to every version of the Joker teaming up, but instead of destroying Gotham City, they force me to talk about my feelings.
Something I have been adamantly opposed to since I broke my own heart, as well as his.
To Abby’s credit though, she didn’t bring up Griffin at all, and Jenna was fascinated by my personality as a child, so she didn’t even notice that the topic of boys never came up.
That’s why it’s so jarring to see her back down so quickly. Jenna is studying psychology, and by that I mean she’s taken Psych 101 and has been locked in on determining exactly where all of my anxieties stem from ever since. (The conclusion is nearly always sexual frustration, obviously.)
Is she trying to lull me into a false sense of security before she really pounces?
“I can feel you looking at me,” she says without bothering to move her arm to look at me. “Believe it or not, I do know when to pick my battles. You’ve got that look on your face that you get when you think about home, and I know better than to push you on that. Just know it’s going to haunt me forever and I will hold it against you until the day we die.”
Even though I know she can’t see it, I’m certain she can feel the way I roll my eyes dramatically, even as my stomach clenches at the tangential mention of Larkspur.
“Have you ever considered toning down the drama for one day in your life?”
Mirroring her movements, I lay down next to her and throw my arm over my face.
Without missing a beat, she snarks, “No I haven’t, and that’s a stupid question and I resent it.”
I laugh out loud, realizing it might be the first time I’ve laughed all day as Jenna joins in.
***
Earlier today, my morning had started off the way it has every day since we switched back to Daylight Savings Time– with the sunlight peeking through the curtains in my dorm room directly onto my face, very rudely waking me up well before I’m ready to be awake.
When I rolled over to grab my phone from under my pillow to check what time it was, two notifications made my heart skip several beats before I could even register how early it was.
[1 Missed Call & 1 New Voicemail]
Frowning at my phone, I was still half asleep as I checked to see who called me in the middle ofthe night.
[Griffin Hart]
Surely not, I thought to myself, bringing my phone up to my ear to listen to the voicemail.It had to be a pocket dial.My heart stopped entirely when I heard the southern drawl coming through the speaker.
“Uh, hey darlin’.
Listen, I’m sorry to call you.
I actually don’t even know why I’m calling you.
Uh, basically I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.
And things always make more sense when I talk to you.
Or maybe they don’t anymore. I don’t know.
