Page 49 of Only Fate

Essie: There’s no better candy than Skittles. Your grandmother chose well.

Me: I beg to differ. M&M’s are where it’s at.

Essie: And now, I shall block you.

I frantically type, fearing she actually will. I don’t one hundred percent know Essie’s humor yet.

Me: Just kidding.

Essie: You weren’t kidding, but that’s okay. It means I know you won’t steal all my Skittles.

We stay up all night, messaging each other.

And for the next three months, not a day goes by when we don’t talk.

We build a friendship, studying for exams and video-chatting. Essie becomes my support system, as we always wish each other good luck before exams and share law school memes.

Then, one day, I take a deep breath of courage and message her.

Me: Can I come see you?

There’s no delay in her response.

Essie: Yes.

Two nights later, I drive to Essie’s college.

The closer I get to her, the faster my pulse races. It’s wild how excited I am. I usually spend my drive time listening to audiobooks or podcasts. But not today. I turn up the music, sing along, and tap my hand against the steering wheel. You’d think I was a man who’d hit the lottery.

I text her when I arrive at her dorm. As I wait for her to come out, my excitement turns into anxiousness.

How will she react to us hanging out in person?

We hung out at the dorm, but it was unexpected and unplanned. This time, it’s by choice.

During the two-hour drive, I’d rehearsed what I’ll say to her.

Unfortunately, that plan goes out the window, and a simple, “Hi,” falls from my lips when she gets into my car.

Essie playfully smacks my shoulder. “Don’t make this awkward.”

“Sorry.” I nervously plow a hand through my hair.

“It’s just us. Essie and Adrian.” Her voice is chipper. “There’s no difference between this and when we FaceTime.”

She directs me toward her favorite diner on campus. While driving, I reach for her hand and hold it in mine. She doesn’t flinch or move it, like it’s where it belongs perfectly.

The server guides us to a booth at the back of the crowded diner. We order dinner, dessert, and then another round of dessertto share. This is just as comfortable as our calls. The awkwardness we started with has dissipated.

After midnight, we leave the diner just as it closes. As we make our way through the lit parking lot to my car, Essie stops suddenly.

“Did you book a hotel?” she asks. “Or do you plan to drive back tonight?”

We never discussed what we’d do or how long I’d stay during my visit.

I twirl my keys in my hand. “I plan to drive back.”

She wrinkles her nose. “This late?”

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