Benson:Hi.
My chest warms.
Me:Can I call you?
He calls me, and I answer.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
The line is quiet for a beat. A comforter shifts on his end. He might be in his bed.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I mutter, “I don’t know.”
“Where are you?”
“My mom’s. I’m okay. I just don’t really know what I’m doing yet.”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“Can I see you?”
Butterflies surface. “It’s Sunday. I have to plan my week.”
“You could plan it here.”
I laugh once. It is a small laugh, and it surprises me. “I need a day. Maybe two. I need to figure out what I’m doing.”
“Okay.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
I pause before asking, “Did you talk to Gianna?”
“Yeah. You should call her, Lucy. When you’re ready.”
I nod. “Okay.” Maybe it’s not so bad.
“Let me know if you change your mind about today. I’ll be around.”
I smile. “Okay.”
“If not — there’s tomorrow. Or the next day.”
I laugh the same small laugh. The line goes quiet for a moment, and I don’t want to hang up. I like having him on the phone.
“What are you doing today?” I ask.
He thinks about that. “Uh –– workout and probably do some homework later. Door’s open if you want to join.”
I smile at the ceiling. “I need to go.”
