Page 82 of Something that Could Last

I tear it open and skip over the letterhead and all the formalities that accompany a letter like this.

Dear Mr. Daniels,

Blah, blah, blah

We regret to inform you-

Wait! What? Not selected for this internship? My heart sinks. I almost forgot how badly I want this, how much this opportunity means to me. I’ve been rejected. I wasn’t good enough to make the final cut. This is a devastating blow, a punch in the gut. I’m unaccustomed to these feelings—inadequacy, rejection, denial. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. I pick the letter back up and continue where I left off.

You have been selected as an alternate

should any of the candidates be unable

to participate for any reason.

I check the postmark on the envelope, noting that it was sent out the day before I left. It’s been sitting here almost two weeks. The internship starts in less than a month, and I can’t imagine anybody dropping out at this point. This was a once in a lifetime chance and I blew it. All I can think about is how badly I want to talk to Abby right now. I wish she was here. I’d lose myself in those soulful eyes and the soft touch of her skin. Her soothing words would reassure me that I’m not a total failure.

I know I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. This was a highly competitive internship, but I worked my ass off to make the grades and complete all the required volunteer hours. Apparently, my three-point-eight GPA and countless hours of community service weren’t enough.

I try not to dwell too much on the sense of rejection and failure that plague my thoughts, focusing instead on the fact that I’ll get a phone call this evening and will hear Abby’s voice for the first time in over twenty-four hours. It was so late when I got home last night that I opted for a quick text instead of a phone call, just in case she was asleep already. She wasn’t, of course. She texted me right back, and as much as it pained me to do so, I told her good night and set my phone on the nightstand, willing myself to leave it there. I wanted to spend all night on the phone with her like a love-sick teenager, but I wanted her to get some rest. My two weeks spent falling for her must have been exhausting on her part. All those hours she worked, trying to find time for me along with everything else. She needs a break and that’s what I’ll try to give her.

Four weeks later...

I’M IN PANICmode, trying to pack as quickly as I can and search for my damn phone at the same time. I haven’t seen it since yesterday morning when I got the call that changed everything, which means I haven’t spoken to Abby since then, either. We’ve talked almost every day since I left, and on the days we didn’t get to talk, we texted. A lot. But I have no idea what her phone number is. I didn’t bother to memorize it since I had it saved in my phone, the one I’ve been searching for since last night.

Son of a bitch!

I’ve looked everywhere. Under my bed, in my car, the fridge, the oven, every damn drawer in this house. I’ve questioned all the staff.No, no one has seen it. I even dug through my dirty clothes in case I left it in one of my pockets. Nothing. I’ve called it several times, even though I know by now the battery must be dead. It was my only link to her and now it’s gone.

Luke is no help, either. He and Tiff aren’t speaking. They had some kind of falling out and she stopped answering his calls. He erased her number and said he’d “never talk to that lying whore again!” So that option is off the table. I can’t even find out what happened between her and my best friend because I don’t have time to talk to him.

I’ve looked on social media, but I can’t find Abby anywhere. I created a damn Instagram account out of desperation after Facebook and Twitter both left me empty-handed, but she’s nowhere to be found. I understand she’s busy, but damn, what twenty-one-year-old college student isn’t online? I can’t even find out if she received the gift I sent her, a new pair of hiking boots she desperately needed. I can’t call to ask her how she liked them. I can’t tweet her or write it on her wall because she doesn’t. Fucking. Have. One.

I can’t even tell her my good news. Great news, actually. Somebody withdrew from the internship at the last minute, so I’m boarding a plane to Africa in a couple of hours. I got the call yesterday morning, something about a medical emergency, but I didn’t hear much else after they told me I was going. I hate to think someone else’s misfortune is the only reason I’m getting this once in a lifetime opportunity, but I’ve dreamed of this since I learned about the program my freshman year. They asked if I could be packed and ready to go by Sunday night and I said, “Hell yes.” Yelled it, actually. Scared the shit out of the housekeeper.

It was sometime between then and yesterday evening that my phone went missing. I’d love to share this news with her, but I can’t find her. Short of driving to West Virginia and telling her in person, I have no way of letting her know I’m going to be overseas for the next six weeks.

When I arrive at the airport, it finally occurs to me that her boss would have her number.Why the hell didn’t I think of that before?I ask to borrow my father’s phone and frantically search Google for Rosie’s phone number.

“Pick up, pick up,” I plead as I make my way to the gate. I let it ring for what feels like an eternity, praying somebody will answer, but nobody does. I try again, desperate to reach someone. My flight is now boarding and I’ve run out of time. I check the search results again, just to make sure I’m calling the right number, and see a list of opening and closing times. Shit! It’s Sunday. Rosie’s closed over an hour ago. It’s too late. I’m all out of options. Defeated, I hand back my father’s phone, ignoring the questioning look in his eyes.

“Mr. Daniels.” I lift my gaze to a middle-aged man with glasses and greying hair. “I’m Steven, the project manager. Looks like you made it just in time.” He gives me a friendly smile, completely unaware of my inner turmoil. I take his proffered hand for a shake and try to return his gesture, but my smile comes out tight and strained. I need to focus on the path that lies ahead of me now, on this journey on which I’m about to embark. But all I can think about is Abby. When I get back, I’ll find her. Nothing will stop me from finding her.

Abby

MY EYES AREred and puffy. My nose is raw from wiping it continuously for two days straight. I haven’t eaten. I can hardly sleep, and I don’t have the energy to run. The one thing that would probably make me feel better, I can’t do, because I’m too weak to do anything but work and cry.

When Jacob calls, I try to keep the emotion out of my voice, but I know he hears it. He asks me all the time if I’m alright. I lie and tell him I’m fine, but I’m not. I’m a wreck. I have been since he left. I have this feeling deep in my gut that I’m never going to see him again. No matter how much he promises and how much he plans, the crippling sense of loss and dread won’t leave me.

I finally regain a little bit of my appetite on the third day, and then I collapse onto my bed and fall fast asleep from sheer exhaustion and a full belly. I awake feeling refreshed and resume my routine of running and working. Jacob and I talk every single day for the first eleven days he’s gone. Not that I’m counting or anything. After that, we talk intermittently. Some days, just lots of texts. Some days only a few. We’re both busy, but it hurts a little. I don’t feel like he’s making time for me. He doesn’t work and he’s not in school right now.

What could he possibly be doing during the few hours I’m not at work that he can’t make time to call me?

He broke the news to me that he didn’t get that internship he applied for via text. He tried to downplay it, but I know how important it was to him. He must be devastated that he didn’t get chosen.

I’ve yet to tell him I love him. I’m afraid to. I’m afraid he won’t say it back, but even more afraid he will. What would we do then? He’s there and I’m here. We both have a year left of school and we’re hundreds of miles away from each other. We’ve been trying to work out a time when he can come and visit, but I need some time off work if he’s going to make the trip down here again. At least a three-day weekend, but I can’t afford to lose the tips, and he has engagements through the next several weeks. Add to that the rapidly decreasing phone calls, and I’m in a serious slump.

God bless Tiff. She does her best to keep my spirits up. She does silly things to try to make me laugh, but all I can muster is a sad smile. She and Luke haven’t been talking. Apparently, he confessed his undying love for her, and she completely shot him down. He tried to persuade her to rethink her decision, but she won’t budge. She wasn’t interested in anything serious while he was here, and he led her to believe the same. Now he’s in love, and she’s just ready to move on. I knew she would break his heart. As far as I know, Jacob isn’t aware of this development, but I don’t say anything. It’s not my place to tell him.

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