Page 94 of The Relationship Clause

In all the harried panic buying the plane tickets and packing, I neglected to pack my phone charger. When my phone died yesterday, I was too busy to do anything about it and too exhausted after working to go out and buy a new charger. Of course Shane’s phone uses a different charger than mine, so I couldn’t borrow his. I meant to run out during my lunch break today to find one, but there was no lunch break. I had five minutes of spare time for me to shove a burger and fries down my throat in between meetings.

So now, it’s been over twenty-four hours since I’ve had a charge on my phone.

And over forty-eight hours since I last talked to Junie.

“Dude, are you feeling okay? You literally look pale.” Shane reaches toward me, but I swat his hand away.

My heart takes a nose-dive for my stomach, and I push away from the table. “I feel fine.” But even as I say it, a queasy, sick feeling wraps around my midsection and squeezes.

“Where are you going?” Shane calls after my retreating back.

“I need to run to the store. I’ll be back soon.” Then I’m gone.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let this happen?

After everything I know Junie’s been through and telling her she could trust me, promising I’d never leave her, how could I have let all this time pass without talking to her? I told her I’d call her when I landed in Tennessee, and I didn’t even do that. I was so busy, so worried about the company, I didn’t even give her a second thought.

That’s not completely true.

I did think about her. I thought about her a lot, actually. But I didn’t follow up on any of those thoughts.

I’m just like my parents.

This thought pulls me up short, causing me to almost run into a man walking down the sidewalk. I mutter an apology and keep going. I can’t let this ruin things. I can’t let this be the end. It was only two days. Junie will understand.

But she shouldn’t have to.

And that’s the part that bothers me the most.

I manage to find a store that carries my charger and get back to the hotel, racing up to our room. Inside, Shane is nowhere to be found. I sit on my bed and kick my shoes off.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I mutter, as I tear at the packaging. Why do companies always package things like this? With the kind of plastic so thick, you need garden shears to get through it?

After managing to rip it open, I plug it into the outlet beside my bed then plug the other end into my phone. For half a second, nothing happens. The sick feeling in my gut intensifies. Did I get the wrong kind of charger? Is the outlet even working? Or maybe my luck is worse than I thought and my phone isn’t dead but broken. But within a few seconds of these thoughts zipping through my head, a little green lightning symbol lights up on my screen, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I have to wait a couple of minutes for the phone to build up a charge before I can turn it on, but as soon as I do, notifications start erupting from the speaker. Texts and calls from not only Junie but Kiera and both my parents as well.

What in the world?

I start wading through the messages, but each one leaves me feeling sicker than the last.

Junie: Hey, I know you’re busy, but could you give me a call when you get a chance?

Kiera: Have you talked to Junie? I’m worried about her.

Kiera: Dude. Mom and Dad called me three times. TOGETHER. What did you do???

Mom: Owen, call me this instant.

Dad: I’m extremely disappointed in you, Son.

Mom: You’d better be able to explain yourself.

Dad: Of all the irresponsible, illogical, ridiculous things you could have done.

Kiera: Seriously, where are you?! Why aren’t you answering your phone??? Mom and Dad found out about the fake secretary thing AND the fake girlfriend thing AND how neither of them are actually fake. They confronted Junie at Em3rge! I wasn’t there, but I heard it was awful, and now Junie isn’t answering my calls. What the heck is going on?

Junie: I didn’t mean for it to end this way, Owen. I’m so sorry.

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