Page 56 of Creed

“You don’t have to tell me,” she continues, “but you need to commit and follow through with it.”

“Sheesh, kid, you’re really getting into this.” I laugh lightly again, but I’m struck by her maturity like I always am.

“My school counselor says I have potential, Soph.”

Her words are so serious and slightly awed.

“You do, Syl. You do, and don’t you ever forget it.”

“I won’t. But… Wait, Isabel is trying to whisper something to me… Oh my god!" Sylvie shrieks. "The dickwad is here,” she hisses quietly, showing me her range and that while she had been counseling me on my need and ways to be happy, she still is a young girl. “What do I do?”

I smile, speaking seriously. “You be the real you with him. But be kind.”

“Ugh,” she groans. “Kind and nice is all you got? You want me to channel my inner-Sophie-goodie-two-shoes?”

“Yes, brat, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“You’re so lame, but I still love you. Bye!”

She hangs up so fast, I guess she’s more excited that ‘the dickwad’ is there than she’s letting on.

I toss my phone onto my bed, then stand and stretch. It’s Friday night, and Ollie finally went out after trying to convince me to go with her. Again. The girl is anything if not persistent.

Drinking the rest of my water, I stare at my phone lying on my bed before I snatch it back up. Turning it over in my hand, I bite my lip.

A goodie-two-shoes… lame.

If I truly were those things, I wouldn’t be standing in my dorm room on a Friday night, wondering if I’m pregnant and not able to take the test because I can’t stand the thought of being alone if the results are positive.

Squeezing my eyes shut as a pang of longing for Creed nearly buckles my knees, I turn my phone in my hands again. Unlocking it, I open his text and stare at the gorgeous butterfly.

A creature that symbolizes transformation and represents hope and new beginnings.

Like the universe is trying to tell me something by Creed sending that today.

Or you’re desperate and reaching, grasping for anything that has to do with him.

Taking a deep breath, I type a message, my finger hovering before I finally click send. It’s gone now; I can’t take it back.

Are you in San Diego?

No, ‘hey’ or ‘thanks for all your messages.’ Just a simple yet loaded question. If he is in the city, then maybe…

What? It’s a sign?

My phone dings with a notification, and my heart pounds.

Thank fuck, angel. It’s good to hear from you

Guilt rears its nasty head that I’m causing us both pain and that I haven’t responded once to any of his messages in two months, but I shake it off.

I’m in the city. Can I see you?

He’s in the city.

I initiated contact.

What was I thinking? Could I ghost him now? Again? Would he let me?

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