Page 5 of All Jacked Up

Ransom: I’ll look into that.

Me: You do that.

Not only was Ransom the only person I could label as a friendin Madison, but he was also the only contact I had there. My mother didn’t check in. The few times we’d spoken, I had called. I wasn’t planning on going home for the holidays. She wasn’t going to pay for my plane ticket, and I saw no reason to spend my hard-earned money on seeing her when she didn’t want me there.

Instead, I was going home with Jellie to New Hampshire. Unlike my mother, Jellie had two parents who worried about her. They called often, and I’d met them both on Parents’ Weekend last month. Her mother invited me to dinner with them and included me in the other things they did. I tried to decline because I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. I hated to be a charity case, but the way she’d insisted made it impossible.

I’d come here in hopes of getting a journalism degree and writing a book, like the many I’d lost myself in over the years. But I had never imagined I’d find somewhere that I fit. It was as close to feeling at home as I’d ever felt.

Noa

Age Twenty-Two

Ransom: How’s the college graduate?

Of course he’d know the exact moment that our commencement ended. He’d have looked it up, taken the time to think about it. Remember me. We rarely went a week without texting. If I went more than six days without sending him a smart-ass comment, he’d check in with me, asking if I was alive.

Me: Not sure if she’s ready to be tossed into the adult world.

I answered him truthfully. If I thought about it too hard, my anxiety would take over. The diploma in my hand had gotten me a position as a junior editor at a publishing house in New York City. They’d helped me find an apartment that I could afford, and the senior editor I’d be working under was friendly, helpful, and not difficult to look at. Arden Neilson was four years older than me—tall, tanned, blond, and charming.

Ransom: You, of all people, are ready to adult.

Me: At least one of us believes that. Keep telling me more lies. It helps.

Jellie waved me over to where she stood with her family. She’d gotten a position at a digital design company in Boston, and we’d be parting ways for the first time in four years. That was also causing a bit of panic.

Ransom: I don’t lie. At least not to you. You’re ready.

Knowing he thought so helped. A guy I’d not seen in person in five years could text me, and my day would brighten. I’d feel more confident. Our friendship was odd but made sense, all at the same time. We’d become pen pals with a modern twist.

Me: I hope so. How are things in Madison?

There was a long pause, and I thought he must have gotten busy at work. That happened sometimes, and he’d get back to me hours later. I started to slip the phone back into the pocket inside my robe when it lit up again.

Ransom: Crosby was shot last night. He’s dead. Than was there.

I paled as I reread his words. I hadn’t known Crosby Cash personally, but I knew how close the Carver boys were to the Cashes. You rarely saw Than Carver without Crosby. My chest hurt. Several things ran through my head as a response, but I didn’t type them out. I settled on the one thing that I cared about the most.

Me: Are you okay?

Because I knew everyone in his family would be worried about Than. But he loved his brother. This would affect him.

Ransom: I don’t think any of us are.

Me: I’m here to listen (read) if you need to talk about it. Things. Or just vent.

I wanted to tell him he could call me if he wanted to, but we’d never taken that step. All these years, and it was just the texting. Even back when he’d gone to school with me, he would simply nod as we passed in the hallway. He never stopped and spoke with me or showed me any kind of attention. Some girl was always beside him, his arm draped over her thin, tanned shoulders most often. It had bothered me—no, it had stung. The constant reminder that I didn’t fit in his world of the beautiful elite. But once he’d graduated and the texting continued, I had let that go. Because he’d left all the others behind. Gotten bored with them. But me, he’d kept.

Ransom: Thank you.

Noa

Age Twenty-Four

My fingers hovered over the screen of my phone as I stared at the text I hadn’t written yet. Unsure if I was going to. This was a big deal, and most of my successes and lows I shared with Ransom. But this time, I was afraid to because what if I failed? I didn’t want him to know.

The phone began to ring, and Jellie’s name appeared on the screen. I’d texted her the news only moments ago, and she was already calling. Smiling, I hit Accept.

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