Page 9 of I Hear You

The guy behind the counter—Adam—smiles back at me, but there’s something unsettling about the way he’s staring at me. So intently, unnecessarily leaning over to grab each book before he scans it. I take out my student account card and pay for the books, doing the mental math on how much will be left for other supplies.

“Do you know if the school has a jobs board of any kind?” I ask him as he’s scanning my card, trying to break the awkward silence of him staring at me.

“Yeah, it’s on the school’s website, but all the summer jobs are probably taken. Your best bet is to walk down Main Street looking for help-wanted signs. If you want to give me your number, I can let you know if I hear of any new ones.”

He leans on the counter and I realize he has the perfect view right down my shirt. I’m not sure if I should take him seriously or not, but I give him a half smile, only raising one corner of my mouth.

“Thanks, that’s sweet, but I’m sure I’ll manage,” I say and grab my books as he hands me my receipt.

Before he can press the suggestion further, I turn and leave.

When I get back to the dorm room with my books, I’m relieved that Taylor’s already left. I don’t know if I would have won out against her sweetness and sad eyes if she started asking me to go to the barn again. I put my books on my desk and leave again to track down something to eat. I’m just now realizing I’ve eaten nothing but a few chips since before I got on the bus and I’m starving.

I end up grabbing a sandwich and a salad from the dining hall, and sit down to eat them at one of the indoor tables. No way am I going back out into that heat when there’s air conditioning inside. Going back to my dorm room to eat doesn’t feel quite right because we never discussed food in the room rules.

I pull my headphones up over my ears and turn my music on from my phone. There are only a few people lingering around the dining hall, but putting on headphones seems like a good way to keep to myself. Small talk with strangers isn’t something I have the capacity for right now. There’s been enough of that for one day.

I scroll social media on my phone, but after a few minutes, without even thinking much about it, I open my old email account and scroll all the way to last summer and start reading an email at random.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: June 02 10:21 PM

Subject: Re: Summer Plans

I don’t really have any summer plans. This is probably my last summer of freedom. Hopefully, by next summer I’ll be training with a college football team.

Mostly I plan on hanging with my friends, working a summer job to make some extra cash, and of course… emailing you.

What are your plans? Besides emailing your favorite person in the world, me.

I’m actually at a party right now at my friend's place. It’s the first one of the summer. There must be like 100 kids here. Everyone from our high school's upper class is here pounding cheap beer, playing beer pong, and making out with the same people they’ve been making out with for years.

To clarify, I am making out with no one. That girl I told you about still get’s extra flirty around me, but tonight for some reason she’s decided I’m not worth the trouble and has been all over one of my best friends.

But Mads, I would much rather be sitting in a coffee shop reading or writing or even better listening to you read me poems. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends. I am lucky to have the group of friends I do, but… lately I’m over it all. Lately, I cannot wait to get out of this tiny town. Does that make me a cliche?

Your Best Friend,

Ender

I remember when Ender started signing his emails,your best friend. We were both fifteen, and I admitted I’d never had a best friend. I explained it’s not that I didn’t have any friends, I just never had best friends.

When I was younger, I had a hard time fitting in. There was more than one run-in with the mean girls. As I got older, there were other obstacles. Best friends wanted to do things like have sleepovers. That was something I couldn’t do, not with my mom. Ender knew not to push after that explanation and instead let me know he was now my best friend. He never let me forget it, and from then on, signed off every email,your best friend. I started signing off on all my emails,your BFF, shortly after, and I meant it.

Ender was my best friend, and I hoped I was truly his.

Having a best friend you’d never met in real life was strange sometimes. A friend whose voice you’d never heard, laugh you’d never heard. Touch you’d never felt and hugs you’d never experienced. I didn’t even know much about what he looked like. Still, there were certain things about our unique relationship I wouldn’t trade for anything. Being able to be so honest and vulnerable with him being top of the list.

After I finish my sandwich and throw away my trash, I head toward the dorms. It’s only eight p.m. but I’m exhausted. I put on some pajamas and crawl up into my bed, planning to read one of my newly acquired textbooks until I fall asleep. I want to be up bright and early to start my job hunting.

Chapter four

Henderson

“Potatoooooo!”Iyell,cominginto the house and turning off the alarm. Before I can even get the last number punched in, my sweet eight-year-old corgi is standing at my feet excitedly shaking her stump of a tail and pawing at my ankles. I crouch down and give her ears a good rub as she tries to give me kisses.

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