Page 42 of Reclaim

“She knows your situation, Jagger.” He hands me my phone. “Just ask her.”

“I hate that it’s this big fuck off reminder, you know? I start up my pacing, and Hendrix falls back on the couch, waiting for me to be done. “Just when I was starting to get past it.”

“If it’s not okay for her, she’ll say no,” he assures me. “Then you’ll know if she’s worth it or not.”

“She’s fucking worth it, Drix. It’s me who’s not.”

“Fuck that. Stop making this more difficult than it is.” He gestures to the phone. “Call her already. I can even leave the house if you need me to.”

“Fffffuccckk. I feel like a teenager, you know that? When your parents put all these restrictions on you and you have to jump through fucking hoops to get from a to b.”

“That’s very empathetic of you,” he says sarcastically. “Because we did whatever the fuck we wanted when we were younger.”

“Shut the fuck up, and hand me my phone.” Stepping into my room, I close the door and leave Drix and his positivity on the other side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I press call, and wait for her to answer.

“Hello,” she answers gleefully. My body slumps, falling back on to the bed in abandonment at the sound of her voice. Every day I ask myself what makes her want to give up her time and talk to me, and then every day I thank whoever is out there, because I couldn’t give up contact with her if I tried.

“Em.”

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, no. I’ve just been thinking about us meeting up.” I pause, thinking of how to express my thoughts without being a dick. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Dick.

“I want to take you out,” I tell her. “Eat dinner, take our time. Have no restrictions. Not have to worry about public transport. It all feels so juvenile,” I reveal. “I want more than that for you.”

“Jagger, I don’t need all that stuff.”

“It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a choice.”

“I think the choice is overrated. We can eat together, with no restrictions and no need to worry about time or transport, at your place.” Just like Hendrix, she suggests coming over like it’s no big deal. “Unless that’s too much too fast. It’s your space, and I don’t want to encroach on that.”

“No, that’s not it at all,” I chuckle in relief. “I am one hundred percent okay with you being in my space.”

‘Well then it’s settled. Pick a time and day for me to be in your space.”

“What are you doing now?” I jump at the opportunity, ready to have her in front of me.

“Now?”

“Yes. If I wait any longer l’ll convince myself it’s a bad idea.”

“Okay, let’s shelve that conversation, because it’s not a bad idea, but for now,” I hear her moving around on the other side of the phone. “Text me the address and I’ll be there soon.”

“It will probably take you forty minutes or longer to get here,” I warn her.

“It’s Sydney. It takes you forty plus minutes to get anywhere. Do you need me to bring anything?”

“No. Just yourself.”

Jumping in the shower real quick, I get ready and straighten out my room. Ready to do the same in the living area, I see Hendrix has already tidied up and is just about to leave.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting out of your hair,” he says, grabbing keys and a wallet off the table.

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