"Seven minutes," he says. "I told you to do something funny. Not I miss you."

"Shut up."

My phone beeps with a text. We both lunge for it. I punch him in the gut when he gets to it first.

"You're fucked," he groans, his arm pressed against his stomach.

"Quit being a pussy and man the fuck up." I close my eyes and breathe deeply, waiting for the adrenaline to settle. When I open them, Minge is back on the recliner, but he's on his feet, squatting at the edge. "What the fuck are you doing?"

He ignores my question. "What the fuck did she say?"

I look down at my phone and open the text. "I miss you too!" I laugh, relieved at her words.

He cheers.

And then we hug, jumping up and down as we do.

It lasts a few seconds before we both realize that we're twenty-one-year-old dudes and not nine-year-old One-Directioners.

He clears his throat and does something that looks like flexing his muscles.

I belch.

Because right now I think it's important that we both remind ourselves that we're manly assholes.

"So what are you going to write back?" he asks, just as I hit send.

I grimace.

"What the fuck did you write?"

"Um..." I hesitate to tell him.

This time he punches me in the gut, swiping my phone out of my hand at the same time.

"I LOVE YOU!" he shouts. The same disbelief as last time. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

I rub the back of my head in annoyance. "I don't know. She should know that I love her, I thought... I just... I just wanted her to know."

He rolls his eyes so high, I'm sure he can see the back of his head. "Now we're going to sit here anxiously and wait for her to write back. What if she doesn't say it back? What are you gonna do then? Do you even fucking listen to me?"

"Shut up!" I know he's right, but I don't want to think about it.

*

"How long?"

"Two minutes from the last time you asked me." We're both squatting on our seats, staring at the phone in the middle of the coffee table.

"Come on, Luce," I whisper.

"She can't hear you, dickhead."

"Fuck you," I clip, my eyes never leaving the phone.

Finally, after what feels like forever, she writes back. This time, neither of us move. We just stare.

"I'm scared," I tell him.

"You should be, asshole."

"You're supposed to be my friend."

We both keep staring at the phone, not looking at each other when we speak.

"Yeah," he says, "and friends are supposed to listen to friends. I don't see you listening to me."

I squeeze my eyes shut and work up the nerve to pick up the phone. I tap the screen. Open the text. And then read it out loud. "I love you, too. I'm coming home tomorrow. I know it's late notice, but could you pick me up from the airport? I think I'd like you to be the first face I see."

"FUCK YEAH!" he squeals.

I fist pump the air.

And then we hug.

Jump up and down.

Spin in circles.

High five.

Then sit back down and crack open a beer.

"So what did you write back?"

"That I'd move heaven and earth to be there."

"Lame."

"Also, you need to cover my shift tomorrow."

"I don't even work there."

"I don't even care."

-LUCY-

"So he's meeting you at the airport?" Claudia asks.

I finish dressing after my shower and look down at myself. "Yeah," I shout so she can hear me from her room on the other side of the bathroom door. "I texted him this morning with the flight details." I open the door so she can see me. "Does this look okay?"

Her brows bunch, but her lips curve at the corners. "You guys have been together how long? Do you think he cares how you look?"

"I know," I say, almost sheepishly. "But I still want to look cute for him. But not over do it, you know? Just cute-casual."

"Lucy," she laughs. "Are you nervous?"

I nod. "So nervous. And to kiss him? I think it would be like kissing him for the first time, you know? We've never gone this long without each other." I shake out my hands, trying to calm myself.

"You look cute," she comforts.

I go back in the bathroom and take one more look. Tank tops and frilly skirts—that's the way he'd always described how I dress, so I make sure I'm wearing my best ones. And cowboy boots. I know he loves those.

A sharp shooting pain goes through my stomach. Like cramps, but worse. Actually, it's been happening a lot lately. I've ignored it, but the last one was the worst yet. I grip the edge of the counter, trying to breathe through the pain. "Shit," I whisper. The tightening in my stomach is unbearable. And then I pee myself. What the hell? I start to look down at my legs, wondering what's happening. The pain gets worse. My eyes shut tight. My breathing stops. And then I pee some more. I can't control it. Just like I can't control the cry that escapes me. I hear Claud say my name, but she's far away. Everything seems distant. The pain stops. I open my eyes. My gaze already pointed at my legs. But it's not pee. It's blood. I release my breath, feeling tears flowing down my cheeks. "Claud!" I try to shout, but it comes out a whisper. And then the pain comes back. Like a thousand knives stabbing my stomach. I fold over myself, my arms crossed over my waist.

And then it happens again.

The blood.

"Claud," I cry out.

I collapse to the floor. My pretty white frilly skirt now soaked in blood. I run my hand up my leg, covering it in red. So much red. "Claudia! Help!"

The bathroom doors swings open. "LUCY!"

"I don't know what's happening!" I scream. "What's happening?"

The pain takes over. I can't keep my eyes open...

"LUCAS!" I hear her yell.

I can't stop crying.

I can't breathe.

I can't...

"Cameron..."

Empty.

Darkness.

-CAMERON-

I check my phone for the third time, making sure that I got her flight details right. The plane landed forty-five minutes ago. I watched everyone get off, everyone but her. I've tried calling. Six times. Her phone rings out. If she were delayed, surely she'd call me.

I ask the woman at the airline desk, but she won't tell me if Lucy even boarded the flight. I'm starting to get worried that maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she doesn't want to come back. Or even if she does, maybe she doesn't want to come back to me.

Then my phone rings, and Lucas's voice fills my ears. "Cameron." His voice is strained. "It's Lucy. She's in the hospital. You have to come. Now."

I tell him to text me the details as I rush back to the airline desk. I try to pay for a ticket to New Jersey, but my card gets declined. I even try the emergency card Mom gave me. Declined. I call Minge—I'll sell him the fucking Delorean if it means getting me to Lucy. He doesn't answer. I sit on the floor in the corner of the airport, shaking from crying so hard. I try my dad. His assistant tells me he's in a meeting. I curse her until she hangs up on me.