“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him.

“I wanted to.” He shrugs, and a small smirk forms across his lips.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a sip of my drink.

“I miss you,” he says.

“I know,” I respond, and his eyes falter slightly. “I miss you, too,” I say, and his eyes perk up.

“Let’s go. I’ll take you home,” he says, motioning with his head to the side.

I glance at a very interested Camden and then back to Dex. “Dex,” I sigh.

“Come on, Chrissy,” he pleads, but I see Camden and think I should be with him. He’ll be here long after Dex leaves for school. I just wish my heart agreed with my brain.

“I came here with them.” I nod my head toward my group of friends.

“So what? I came with them, but I just want to spend some time with you.”

“I can’t, Dex. I’m sorry.” Before I stop myself, I place my lemonade on the table and wrap my arms around him so tight I’m surprised he’s not suffocating. He holds me just as firm, and I try to commit the smell of Dex to memory as my face rests in the crook of his neck. “Good luck in school. You’ll do great.”

Without looking him in the face, although I would love to be able to study his face for an hour just to burn the image into my head, I turn on my heels. Running around the opposite side of the stand, I hunch over and sob.

Ranting to myself over and over again that it’s for the best. I would only bring him down. He can’t be worried about me when he has his whole future to figure out. Then I hear his friend come over and just the sound of his voice is enough for me to doubt my decision.

“What are you doing with that girl? You have Bella over there waiting for a rematch from last week. Come on, man.” Dex must not move right away because his friend continues. “I know she was hot, but enough of the slumming it, man. Let’s go.” Then it’s silence except for the employee working the stand, the clinking of pans replacing the beating of my fast heartbeats Dex ignites. Repeating my mantra that he’s better off without me over and over until I compose myself enough to join my friends.

22 years old

“HULK, LET’S GO, man,” Brady screams up the stairs. I can only imagine Sadie, tapping her foot. We’re due to meet up with Jessa and Grant in order to be on time to Trey’s parents’ house. My phone vibrates on the bed as I shrug my t-shirt over my body.

Picking it up, still shaking in my hands, a number I don’t recognize crosses the screen. Wavering on whether or not I want to chance this being something at the house, I hit ignore because I don’t want to be bothered with my dad’s so-called “business” today. Then thoughts of someone raiding or maybe some loser found out where my dad’s operation is. Worse case, someone ratted him out. Figuring someone who I have programmed in my phone would have made the phone call to alert me, I wait to see if they leave a voicemail. Which they do—my phone vibrates a second later.

Clicking speaker, I place the black rectangle on my dresser while I gel my hair. My fingers are manipulating each strand, placing it in the perfect spot when her voice comes across. My hands stop mid-air and I my eyes fixate on the phone. Closing my eyes, that sweet sound that’s only lived in my dreams the past years still unglues me to the core. “Um … Dex. I’m in town and … um … I was wondering … if maybe we could … um … talk.” Her voice is practically shaking from the awkwardness of the phone call.

“HULK!” Brady screams again. Debating in my head what I should do. I could easily claim ignorance that I never got the call. Say that I was already out of town. Excuses run through my head as to why I would leave her wherever she is. Then the images of her alone, or worse, not. Knowing even with the distance that has formed between us over the years, I could never, would never not go to her if she needed me.

Walking out my door, I peer over the railing to a sour Brady. “Man, I gotta do something. You guys go without me,” I shout down.

“What is so damn important?” he asks, sensitive to the fact he can tell something’s off with me. Brady is like the father of our friends, protective of us all.

“A friend needs me,” I say, remaining vague. If Brady knew the half of what I did when I leave this house, he’d probably have an anxiety attack.

He stands there staring up at me and wavers at the door. Probably counting in his head how long he has before Sadie, his fiancé, comes in search of him. “What’s up, man?” he asks, stepping up a few stairs.

“I’m not sure yet. I need to make a call.” I’m honest with him because Brady has a sense of comfort about him. Although, I’m fairly certain our secrets are shared with Sadie, he keeps things mostly to himself.

“Do that, and we’ll wait.” He jogs back down the steps, and the front door shuts behind him.

Sitting on my bed, I bite my lip. It’s been so long. Not that she hasn’t crossed my mind; I’m not sure a day goes by that I don’t wonder where she is and what’s she’s doing. I question why she left and never answered my calls. The guilt that I somehow left her behind always resonating inside somewhere within me, even when she’s the one who disappeared on me. The small piece of electronics sits in my hands like a ten pound weight. There’s no turning back, no erasing from my mind once I press that call icon.

Pushing back my fear, I press the call button, release a deep breath and bring the phone up to my ear. She answers on the first ring, confirming something is seriously wrong. “Dex,” she answers. Another stab of the knife that she still has my number programmed, but I don’t have her obviously changed number.

“Chrissy?” I say her name out loud for the first time in four years. How can her name seem foreign on my tongue?

The line is quiet for a few seconds before she continues. “Hi. I’m in Western … at this place called The Loft. Could you come down here?” she asks.

“What’s wrong?” My foot begins tapping on the floor.

“I just need to talk. If you’re too busy—”

“No—give me five,” I quickly tell her.

“Okay.” Her voice is so shallow, I dread what I’m about to discover.

Leaving the house, I lock it up and then walk over to Brady’s Camaro. Sadie rolls down the window. “I have to head to The Loft.” Sadie’s forehead wrinkles, and she turns to Brady, who takes a deep breath. “We’ll drop you off,” he says, nodding his head to the backseat. Sadie opens the door and gets out, allowing me to slide the seat up and fold my over six-foot frame into the back.

We drive the familiar path in five minutes. A million thoughts about what I’m about to walk into stream through my mind. When we pull up outside the dingy college bar, Sadie climbs out of the car, pulling her seat forward to allow me access to exit. “We’ll wait,” Brady says, but I wave him off.

“Don’t bother. Not sure I’ll make it to Trey’s parents’.”

“We’ll wait,” he repeats, and Sadie smiles. Damn happy ass couple.

The second I enter the bar, I spot her. Two booths to the right, sipping a glass of golden beer. My body hyper-aware of hers instantly responds with a warm current that travels from my stomach to my feet. She’s still gorgeous with her blonde hair highlighted from the lone stream of light through the back door that’s propped open.

Taking the two steps, I give a wave at Pete, which makes Chrissy’s eyes tear from mine to veer his way. Sliding into the bench across from her, our eyes lock for a brief moment. Neither of us speaks a word while we take each other in for the first time in years. “How are you? It’s been a while.” I break the awkwardness, and she twirls her straw around her glass.

“Okay.” Her shoulders rise and fall. “Just got back into town a few weeks ago.” She never looks up, and I can feel her leg anxiously bouncing up and down under the table.