Page 57 of Between Never and Forever
When the shower kicks on, I roll off my mattress and open my “dresser,” digging through it for clothes. I throw on some underwear, jean cutoffs, and a t-shirt, then toss my hair into a ponytail. I need to head into the club today and let Mack know about the tour. See if she’ll let me pick up a few more shifts this week before we leave.
I’m putting on eyeliner when an incessant buzzing comes from the floor by my bed where Levi’s shorts still lie discarded from last night. It must be his phone. He did say the guys were blowing him up.
I go back to finishing my other eye when the buzzing starts again. I glance at the shorts, then at my door. The shower is still on, and my curiosity is getting the better of me.
I walk to my mattress and sit down, then reach for Levi’s shorts. The buzzing has stopped by the time I pull the phone out of his pocket. It’s on 10% battery, and it’s locked in that annoying way that doesn’t preview what calls and texts you get. I tap the screen and the passcode prompter comes up.
I’m debating trying to break into it when the phone buzzes again, and my restraint snaps.
It’s only four digits.
I try 1-3-1-6 first and smirk to myself, but it’s not the winner. I didn’t actually expect John 3:16 to be his passcode, but how hilarious would it be if it was? I’d never shut up about it.
I think for a minute, then punch in his birth date.
Bingo.
What a square. I broke into his phone in two tries. Doesn’t he know you’re not supposed to use your birthday? I snicker as I pull up his contacts and put my phone number in. I save it underSexy Girlfriend, then snap a selfie to save as my contact.
Then, because apparently, I’m one of those nosy girlfriends, I open his messaging apps.
The first thread is one titled Spring Break Boyz and there are fifty unread messages. I roll my eyes with a laugh as I open it and scroll through it. Messages from guys named Dalton, Dylan, Josh, Scott, and someone saved as B-Ramz have been blowing him up the last two days. A lot of pictures of beer and the beach. Lots of messages calling him a dick for ditching them, and him responding with middle-finger emojis.
I smile so big my cheeks hurt when I see he sent them a picture of me on stage last night. I look good, too. Quickly, I forward the picture to my phone number. The last several texts are telling Levi to hurry the hell up because he’s going to miss check out and they need to get to the airport, and him apologizing and saying he’s on the way.
It's so weird seeing this side of him. The college guy side. I feel like a wildlife photographer in some remote corner of the world researching a new species. Eighteen and nineteen-year-old frat boys are certainly an interesting bunch.
When I finish that thread, I close it out and go to the next. It’s his mom. I sneer at it. I wonder if she’s still a judgy bitch.
I open the thread and scroll. It’s just a bunch of check-ins. Mostly one- or two-word responses from Levi, assuring Mrs. Cooper that he’s alive. I snort a laugh when I get to a long paragraph she sent last week preaching to him about the importance of modesty and purity. Apparently, she was not down with the Miami trip and was worried it would corrupt him.
Too bad photos aren’t allowed in the club, because then someone could send her a video of me giving her precious angel baby a lap dance. Damn, she’d flip her top. Just the mental image has me smiling.
I close out of her thread and go to the next.
This one makes me sit up straighter. Some person named Jules.
I click open the thread without breathing, and the most recent text is from her asking Levi to call her. I check the time stamp. Friday morning. He read it but didn’t respond.
Jules
Please call me when you get a chance. It’s important.
I scroll up. Their exchanges are pretty basic. Wishing luck on exams and stuff like that. Then I get to one where Jules mentions Levi’s mom. Calls herMs. Judyand everything. She’s on a first name basis with Levi’s mom?
I click on her contact and pull up her photo. She’s a blonde girl who looks vaguely familiar. The longer I stare, the more I think I know her.Jules. And then it clicks.
Julianna Lark.
She went to Levi’s church, I think. She was a year older than we were. She was always nice enough. Never treated me like trash like everyone else did. Never called me crack baby or sneered at me in the hallway.
But still.
Why the hell is Julianna Lark asking Levi to call her? Why the hell is she even in his phone at all?
The hairs on my arms stand up and my throat tightens. This couldn’t be the ‘one time,’ could it? Was he dating her? She’s definitely someone old mommy dearest would approve of. My jealousy spikes and I scowl at the phone.
Then I feel like an asshole.
