Page 70 of Heartland
I log in to campus email. Sure enough, my inbox contains four messages. The first three are from Dylan, and the fourth is from Leah.
Oh heck. Does Leah know that Dylan and I spent the night together? The subject line of her message is:this weekend. If he said anything to her, I’ll die of shame.
I open the oldest email and find a picture of a puppy covering its face with its paws, sayingI’m so sorry. And Dylan’s request to call him.
Yeah, I don’t think so.
The next email is also from Dylan.We have to talk, okay? Kaitlyn blew everything out of proportion. Please answer your phone. Let’s not avoid each other just because Kaitlyn is a miserable human.
He makes a good point. But it doesn’t really matter. Kaitlyn is miserable, but she was also right. I’m so embarrassed about asking him to sleep with me. I can’t talk to him yet.
Then—thank goodness—his third email says only:I forgot to tell you that I drove the caramels to the food co-op and gave them to that woman who manages the place. She wants you to follow up.
“Well?” Ellie demands. “The price of using my laptop is telling me what happened. I’m dying over here.”
“Dylan dropped off the samples.”
“And?” she yelps. “I need more.”
“He wants to talk to me about the…” I clear my throat.
“Caramels?” she guesses.
“Sex,” I whisper.
Ellie drops her fork, letting out a high-pitched squeak. “There wassex?”
“Shhh!” I look around to see if anyone is listening. “I’m not talking about that.”
“Please?” she begs. “I want to live vicariously through you. I’m never having sex. I have braces, and I’m literally jail bait. Was it awesome?”
“Of course,” I whisper. “But that’s all I’m saying. And I have one more email to read. Sorry.”
She lets out a deep sigh. “Take your time. It’s not like I have a hot, naked farm boy waiting somewhere for me.”
Neither do I, though.
I click on Leah’s email and then quickly scan it. She wants to know if our big order means that Dylan and I plan to make caramels on both Friday and Saturday. But of course I have no idea.
And IdreadFriday and Saturday.
At the bottom, there’s something else.Chastity, you won’t believe this! I think we’re going to be awarded a grant. I don’t know how large yet. But my non-profit will stop being just an idea, and become a THING! We’re going to help at least a few of the women and men who need us. I’m so excited I can barely stand it.
It’s a little bit of good news on an otherwise terrible day. So I tap out a reply.Tell me how I can help.
After all, maybe I can help another girl escape a cult so she can live a confusing life of freedom and frequent embarrassment.
I finish my email with a promise to get back to Leah about the weekend. Maybe by then I’ll be over this feeling of wanting to curl up and die of shame.
Probably not, though.
Twenty-Two
Dylan
Over the nextthree days I become increasingly anxious when Chastity doesn't answer my emails. And nobody answers the phone, either. Not even Kaitlyn.
Since begging doesn’t work, I try humor. I send Chastity funny pictures of kittens. I send her a video of black bears in a backyard pool, and goats and bunnies acting silly together. I also apologize, of course. And ask her to meet me for coffee.
