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Scottie takes the lid in his hand and tosses it at me as I step into the bathroom.

"Oh, I get it," he yells as I slam the door shut. "Lenora sent you some quality photos today, didn't she?"

My jaw tics as I find my reflection in the mirror. "You caught me," I call back, draping my towel over the far end of the curtain rod.

I don't wait for his dumbass response that I can't stomach right now. Instead, I twist the shower on and let the sound of the water raining down on the tile drown him out.

Lenny didn't send me any pictures.

I fucking wish.

Hell—I'd be happy with anything at this point—a picture, a call, a message longer than a couple words. I'd take a goddamn carrier pigeon if she was offering.

I've gotten four texts today—

Four texts. All replies.

None starting or even continuing the conversation.

But none ending it either.

The latest one came on my way back from practice. She said she couldn't talk tonight at our usual time because she had a ton of studying to do… again.

Which—fine.

She's always been the smart one. And school's important to her—to both of us if she's coming to CMU.

It's just… we always used to talk.

Every night. Every morning. A quick call on her lunch break and a voicemail at least on her drive home from school.

But lately those have come further and further apart. Stretches between calls have grown longer, texts have become shorter.

And missing her has been the thing I do most.

The mirror starts to steam up, and I take that as my cue to step out of my sweatpants. I slip them off, pulling my phone from the pocket before tossing them toward the door. I sit it on the edge of the sink, screen up just in case Lenny decides to call after all.

I tap it once, the picture of her and I underneath the CMU Christmas tree lighting up and staring back at me. There are still no notifications, but my screen saver gives me hope.

The way Lenny's lips are curling as she presses them to my cheek. How happy we both were when she visited me here for the first time over break. How neither of us wanted to be anywhere else.

How that whole weekend felt like a look into our future—both of us on the same campus. Seeing her outside of pictures. Talking in person and not through a screen. Touching her instead of only dreaming of it.

The picture fades to black—my sign to finally step into the stream of hot water, waiting for me. Not that I need a third shower—Scottie was right about that even if spitting where you sleep really does give me the creeps. But because I'm hoping the burn of the scalding temperature on my shoulders might distract me a little. And the pounding of the water against my back might drown out the silence in my head.

My foot barely hits the tile, the stream bouncing off my shin and spraying droplets onto the bath mat I'm still half-standing on, when a subtle buzzing grabs my attention.

I freeze, my chest tightening as I stare at the phone, waiting to make sure it does it again. When it does, Lenny's name flashing across the screen, I reach for it—relieved, excited. A little bit nervous?

"Lenny?" I answer, my voice coming out as eager as I am.

"Hey, babe," she says—soft. Almost cautious.

Those two words soothe me in a way the shower running beside me never could.

I drop my free hand on the sink and lean against it, trying to keep my heart from pounding like it's trying to escape my chest. "I thought—did you finish studying?"

She inhales loudly enough for me to hear. "Not really. I can't talk long, I just…" She pauses a little too long, something in her tone I can't place. "Wanted to hear your voice."