"Hey, do you have a hammer and a nail that I can borrow? I didn't even think to pack one."
"I didn't bring one either. Sorry." Her voice cracks as she apologizes.
"What's wrong? If we're going to live together we need to talk to each other. I'm not really good at this sort of stuff, but I am a good listener." I walk toward her and take a seat on her bed. "I can tell that something is wrong. Did I say something wrong at the coffee shop? I'm really sorry if I did."
"It's not that," she whispers. "I don't know how to say this without sounding like a bitch."
"Then sound like a bitch. I promise to forgive you."
Felicity turns and I can see that she's been silently crying. Her face is blotchy and red, tear stains running down both sides. What the hell did I do to this girl? I want to hug her, but I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do or not.
"I'm not rich."
"So. What does that have to do with anything?"
"We're the opposite of rich. Literally the opposite. I wouldn't be here if everything wasn't covered. I need to find a job so that I can buy things like coffee or snacks to keep in here. My parents can't help me at all. I have five siblings at home that they need to provide for."
I feel bad for even walking into the coffee shop now. I forget that not everyone has a trust fund or a bank account that will never drop below a certain amount. Not everyone is as lucky as I am in that department.
"Without trying to offend you or sound like a bitch," I pause because that causes her to smile, "I don't care that you're not rich. I do have one rule, though."
"What do you mean you have a rule?"
"The only rule about living with me is this... if you ever need anything, big or small I don't care, and you can't afford it, you will ask me. My parents are the nicest people on the planet. Money doesn't matter to them as much as happiness. We are blessed to have money and they would be pissed at me if I let you go without. Understood?"
She thinks it over for a second before she nods her acceptance. I have a feeling that she'll never ask me for anything but the offer is there if she ever needs to take me up on it. Plus, I need someone to go out with if I ever get the nerve up to go out.
She stands and throws her arms around me. Apparently now is the time to hug. I'm going to have to remember that.
October 18, 2005
Luke,
It's been so long since I've heard from you. I'm not going to lie. I'm starting to worry about you a little. Elliot said that you were fine, but it also felt like he was trying to avoid the conversation. I need to know you're okay. Please write me back if you can. Or call. You can always call me. Even if you only have five minutes. I would love to hear your voice. I miss it. I miss hearing you say my name.
More than anything, I'm sad. I'm sad that you haven't written. Not hearing from you makes the heart ache ten times worse. I need something, anything. Please.
I'm not opposed to begging, obviously. There is so much that I want to tell you and I don't want to tell you in a letter. About school. About me. About the things, I've learned. I want to share my life with you. I don't even know if these letters are reaching you anymore. I hope they are. I hope you read them and know that I still feel the same about you as I did before you left. I hope you still feel the same about me.
Miss you.
XOXO
Reagan
December 6, 2005
Luke,
I went home for Thanksgiving and it wasn’t the same without you there. I was hoping that you might call while I was at your house but you didn’t. I had to excuse myself from the table after dinner to get some fresh air. My emotions were about to get the best of me and I don’t want Elliot asking questions.
I did take a chance and popped into your room. Elliot and James started a game of football in the backyard with our parents so I knew I had a few minutes. I may have borrowed a t-shirt out of your drawer. I’ll gladly return it to you the next time I see you.
When is that going to be? Your mom was saying that you aren’t coming home for Christmas either. I don’t want you to think that I’m not proud of you, or that I’m ungrateful about the fact that you’re serving our country. That’s honorable on so many levels. I just miss you and I want to see you.
XOXO
Reagan
STARING AT MYSELF in the mirror, I can't decide what I want to do first. It's been almost six months and I haven't even attempted to change who I am. This was supposed to be about reinventing myself, becoming the person I've always wanted to become. I need to start eventually. I think I'm afraid to lose the person that I am in the process. Reagan version 1.0 isn't a bad person. She just needs to be spruced up a bit.
I can't start talking about myself in the third person. Not even to myself. People will think that I'm crazy. I might even start to think that I'm crazy.
I keep telling myself that this has nothing to do with the fact that I haven't heard from Luke. Not one letter since school started. I check the mailbox every day hoping I will find a letter, one word, anything from him. It's been silent. Even Elliot hasn't mentioned him in a few months. I know he must be safe, alive, but I don't know anything more. He was deployed again shortly after I left Pacific Grove. Elliot wouldn't tell me where but judging by the tone of his voice and the way he was trying to avoid the conversation, it might not be some place safe. That hasn't stopped me from writing him like I always have. In fact, I have a letter that I need to mail to him sitting on my desk.
I shake my head and try to clear away thoughts of Luke. Out of nowhere it hits me. I have a plan. I know what I want to change, what I don't. I realize that I won't change what's inside, that I'll still be the girl who loves with all her heart. I'll still be the girl pining after the man that may never come home. I don't want to change those things about myself. What I want is to prove to myself, and to Luke the next time that I see him, that I am worth more than just one mind-blowing kiss. I want him to want me as much as I still want him.
The door bursts open and Felicity runs inside, kicking the door closed behind her as she strips down and searches for something to change into.
"Rushing off somewhere?" I ask as she pulls a thick sweater over her head.
"I have to be to work in less than five minutes. My exam took longer than I thought it would. I'm going to be late if I don't run." She's out of breath which tells me that she ran here from across campus already.
"Why don't you just call them and explain that you're going to be a few minutes late? I'm sure it's not a big deal. They know you're a student."
"It matters to me. I need this job, remember? I need the extra five minutes on my paycheck. I'm barely making it as it is."
Felicity took the first job she found. She works at the library as much as they'll allow. She spends almost all her time there, studying or working. If she could get paid to study, she would. I'm sure they pay like crap and I get that she needs this job, but I just wish we could hang out more. There's so much that's happened this past week that I want to tell her.