Page 55 of An Uphill Battle

“Because Iknowyou. Lemme guess. You have your suitcase on your bed, clothes strewn all over your bedroom, and you’re wearing a trail in the carpet at the foot of your bed from pacing back and forth.” I can’t help but laugh because she’s right on the money. That’s exactly what I’mdoing.

“Yes.”

“Thought so. Sit down and listen to me.” She pauses, listening to see if I’ll do as she says, and she must hear me comply because right after my ass hits the bed, she starts talking again. “Drake loves you. He L-O-V-E-S you. He will be there. Stop stressing. I know, easier said than done. I get that. But, stop stressing. Get packed. And try to get some sleep.Okay?”

“Okay. Yeah. I can do all that. Thank you,Myles.”

“Any time and every time. I mean that, Az. You need me to talk you off a ledge, you call. No matter what. Loveyou.”

“Love you, too,” I tell her before hanging up and plugging the charging cable into myphone.

I make quick work of sorting the clothes thrown around my room into two piles—the Yes pile and the No pile—and from there, I narrow the Yes pile down into the Hell Yes, adding the items that made the cut into my suitcase. Everything else gets tossed onto the floor of my closet, a problem for anotherday.

* * *

My sleep is fitful,at best. I wake almost every hour on the hour with the same thought on my mind. Finally, at six, I can’t take it anymore. Peeling back the covers, I dash to the bathroom and switch on the space heater before drawing a hotbath.

I step into the tub, submerging myself all the way up to my chin, determined to clear my mind.He’ll be there. He’ll be there. He’ll be there.But it’s no use. This worry won’t ease until Drake is standing in front ofme.

Once my fingers and toes feel like raisins, I drain the tub and get dressed. Yoga pants, an old high school hoodie, and my Uggs—I don’t care how much my girls make fun of them, they’re fucking comfy—the perfect outfit for an almost four-hourdrive.

But before I hit the road...coffee.

And maybe somefood.

Not wanting to do dishes before leaving, I decide to hit up Dream Beans for my food and caffeine fix. They have the most amazing bagels and the absolute bestcoffee.

I park my Z4 in front of the salon and make my way across the street—I swear, their being so close is both a blessing and a curse. Making my way to the back of the line, I pull out my phone to text the girls in our grouptext.

Me:Ladies, I’m grabbing breakfast before heading out. Wish meluck.

Their replies are instantaneous—almost as if they were waiting to hear fromme.

Myla Rose:You don’t need luck, sister-girl.

Magnolia:Drive safer than me, and goodluck!

Seraphine:Pssh. You don’t need luck. You got this. Oh, and turnaround.

The last part of Seraphine’s text baffles me, but I slowly turn to look over my shoulder anyway. Sure enough, she’s standing in line behind me with a huge smile on her face. “What’re you doin’ here?” Iask.

“Just needed to get out of the house for a bit. The nurse is with Dad, and he’s sleeping,so...”

“Is... are you okay?” She shrugs her delicate shoulders, and I wrap her into a big bear hug. “You let us know if you need anything, S. Mean it. Even if it’s a shoulder to cry on,okay?”

“Okay, I will. Now, go order. It’s yourturn.”

I turn to tell Hazel, the barista, what I’d like, but God bless her, she already knows. “Good morning, Azalea. Lemme guess. The biggest iced latte we have and a blueberry bagel with strawberry creamcheese.”

Smiling, I pass her a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change!” Heck, maybe some good karma will help make sure Drake shows uptomorrow.

I move down the line and wait for Seraphine to order, and once both of our orders are called, we move to a small table by the door. “Do you have any big plans for tomorrow night?” I ask her between bites of mybagel.

“I think Simon’s having another cookout. I’ll probably head over there with Magnolia so that she’llgo.”

I smirk. “Do you think they have a thing for eachother?”

“Simon and Mags? Definitely. Do I think either of them will ever admit it? Nope. Not in a millionyears.”

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