Page 29 of Meet Me at the Metro

“You don’t have to. At least not right now. I can’t tell you how much I wish I could be there for you, sweetie.”

“I wish you were here, too,” I exhale, feeling the distance between us suddenly become more apparent. “I miss you and Dad so much. I didn’t ever imagine being away from you guys being this hard.”

“Still, you’re doing amazing, baby girl,” Dad says somewhere off in the background. My tight muscles immediately start to ease. “And we’re so proud of everything you’re doing. You keep holding that stubborn head of yours up high and working hard. Don’t let anyone or anything back home keep you from doing what you came to London to do, alright?”

“I love y’all” is the only response I can muster without turning into another puddle of emotions. I settle back against my pillow and curl up beneath my tangle of blankets, somehow already feeling so much better after hearing my parent’s voices.

“We love you more,” they say together.

“You don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything, honey,” Mom insists. “Anything. Whether it’s the middle of the night or the middle of the day—if you even just need to talk, you call, okay?”

“Okay. I promise I will.”

“You get some rest. Send us a message when you wake up, alright? Because may I remind you that you still have yet to send me any pictures!”

“Oh lord.” I roll my eyes, feeling relieved to find myself giggling. “I’ll send some tomorrow!”

“You told me that yesterday!”

“Well, sorry! That was before I ended up getting my heart broken! I’ll send some, okay?”

“We’re holding you to it,” Dad says, smiling. “Goodnight, baby girl.”

“Goodnight.”

I end the call and wipe away any residual tears from my eyes as I tuck my phone somewhere beneath the entanglement of sheets around me and relax back against my soft mattress.

I settle my thoughts on my Dad’s advice, mulling over it in my head as my gaze skims the faint outlines of the musical theatre posters hung against the walls of my moonlit bedroom.

Don’t let anyone or anything back home keep you from doing what you came to London to do, alright?

I blink against the darkness around me until my eyes grow so heavy that they can’t stand to stay open another moment longer, and I make a promise to myself not to dream about anything but London—and maybe the people dwelling in it.

I wish I could manage to erase John from my life as well as I’ve managed to erase him from my dreams these past seven days. As hard as I’ve tried moving on from our relationship, my efforts to forget about him come up short every time a text message from him pops up on my phone. Although I’ve left every single one of them on read, my silence in our thread of messages hasn’t stopped him from sending more.

My ringtone breaks through the silence as Professor Henderson clicks to a new slide of his lecture projected at the front of the classroom and conjures everyone’s heads back at Connor’s and my table.

“Phones should be silenced or left at home, Miss Mattice.”

“Sorry. Yes sir,” I obediently nod, rather than arguing with ‘I thought it was silenced’like I want to.

Henderson immediately continues reading through his list of bullet points ahead. I pretend to listen as I carefully reach into my bag and quickly silence my phone. My eyes unwillingly catch sight of the text message displayed on the screen.

I’ve got news. Please call.

Connor must have caught sight of the text, too, because he sighs at the same time as I do. “Block the idiot already.”

“Oh, I’m about to,”I whisper through gritted teeth, annoyed that even being an ocean away and a week into our breakup, John is still managing to mess things up for me.

He smirks, “Dare you.”

I quickly accept the challenge as I discreetly unlock my phone, click on his contact, and block his number entirely.

Connor does his best to keep his chuckles beside me quiet. “How mad do you think he’ll be when he sees that his messages aren’t delivering?”

“Hopefully livid.”

“Alright, students,” Professor Henderson calls from his podium. For a moment, I’m sure that the two of us are about to be booted from the lecture for our quiet yapping, but instead, he announces, “Class is dismissed early tonight. Please don’t forget to work on your summary and critical analysis of Act I of ‘Othello.’ I expect you have them ready to present and discuss by the beginning of class on Monday. Have a good weekend.”

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