Page 82 of Changing Rules

“You said yourself she won’t answer your calls,” Marco chimes in.

“I’ll send her a text.”

“You sure she’ll read it?” Drew arches an eyebrow.

I stop in my tracks and hide my face in my hands. For several seconds, all I do is breathe. “I don’t know,” I finally say, “but I need to do something. I can’t let her think I’m with Stacey, not after everything…”

Drew says. “I know, just… I’m not sure she’s going to listen. Those pictures speak louder than any explanation you could give her.”

I grit my teeth, biting back a curse. “If I don’t do something, I’ll regret it for my entire life.”

With that, I storm to my car. First things first—I’ve got to call my rep.

I standat the breakfast bar and stare at my phone, silently willing Bella to read the statement my rep put out, willing her to believe me.

Milo huffs at my feet. I brought him home, but I’m already second-guessing the decision. He got far more attention from my parents, I’m sure.

“I’m going to call her, bud,” I tell him. “Cross your fingers for me.”

Holding my breath, I pick up the phone and navigate to Bella’s contact information. The line rings and rings and rings, but she doesn’t pick up. It’s what I figured, but it still stings. I want to hear her voice so desperately. Every day, the distance between us breaks my heart a little more.

When her voicemail picks up, I end the call and pull up my messages app.

Me:

Hey. I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I need to tell you this. You probably saw the pictures, and I really hope you’ve read my statement. Either way, I’m not with Stacey. She came over to talk, that was all. I told her I can’t be friends with her. I told her how much I love you

Me:

And I do. I love you, and I miss you so fucking much, it kills me. Please, I need to hear your voice

I wait and wait, but no reply comes. An hour later, the restless energy building inside me wins out. I stand and pace the living room. I need to do more. Anything. I fish my phone out of my pocket, open Instagram, and type out a new message. My texts still show as delivered. Maybe I can get her attention this way. I hit send then navigate to her profile, desperate to check up on her. I just need to see her face. Instead, all I find is a blank space in place of her feed. No number of followers is displayed, and a message that reads “Something went wrong” pops up on my screen.

My mouth falls open, and I stumble back.

She blocked me.

With trembling hands, I close Instagram and dial Marco. If I call Meg directly, she won’t answer. Her boyfriend is my only hope.

“Hey. What’s up?” Marco’s voice in my ear grounds me a little.

I blink. “Hey…um, is Meg with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Can—” I clear my throat. “Can I talk to her?”

“Let me check.” The line is muffled for a second, and then he says, “Babe, it’s Xander. He wants to talk to you.”

“And why would I talk to him?” Meg says, her tone sharp.

“Babe, please, do it for me.”

“Fine,” she says, her voice coming closer. A heartbeat later, she lets out a harsh breath, and the line between us crackles. “What do you want?”

“I can’t reach Bella.” I rub at my sternum, desperate to ease the pain in my chest. “I think she blocked me.”

“And?” Her answer is the only confirmation I need.

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