All It Took

8.Alison

Killing Me Softly With His Song // Fugees

Me: Where are you?

Me: Can you talk?

I've called Jeff's phone so many times I've lost count. As soon as I got home from his practice, I started a mental countdown to when I figured he'd be alone. He has post practice therapy or ice baths, shower, driving that guy back home and then getting to campus. I figured 90 minutes was a safe estimate. I waited that long before I tried calling, but it went immediately to voice mail.

Not too unusual if he's studying or driving, so I didn't let it bother me. I waited another half hour, then called again.

Nothing.

Then I started texting. All of my texts say delivered, but not read. He's not checking them.

Now it's been an additional two hours and I'm going out of my mind. Every possible scenario has crossed my thoughts.

Were they in a car accident?

Did they go for dinner and his phone died?

Is Jeff ghosting me? Maybe he saw me. Maybe he's angry I was at his practice.

Maybe Reign knocked him out.

Or killed him.

In the rational side of my brain, I realize I'm showing signs of hysteria, but I can't help it. I'm worried. Since we started seeing each other, neither of us have gone this long without speaking unless we were asleep.

Me: Jeff I'm getting worried

It remains unread. It's too late to try to go find him. Besides, I don't even have a car. I can't afford one on my budget and everywhere I really need to go is within walking distance. I take the bus or a get a ride if I need to see my dad. Misty is more than willing to drive me around when she can. But its times like this that not having a car is a disaster. I end up falling asleep waiting for him to text or call back.

Sometime after midnight, my phone jars me awake. This time it's the buzz of a message, not a phone call. I sit up in a panic and check the notification.

Jeff: Sorry. Been busy. Talk later.

What the hell? He gives me a heart attack all evening and that's all I get? At this point, I deserve to hear his voice, and a better explanation than just that he's busy. I sit up straighter, my righteous indignation kicking in.

In fact, I deserve a face to face apology for the anxiety I've gone through. I get out of bed, pacing the room, while I start to call him back and demand more information.

I'm just about to hit the call button when I stop and try to do some breathing. I need to calm down first or I'm probably going to make everything worse. I shouldn't call him with guns blazing, ready for a showdown. He just took extra long to reply to me. It's not like he ghosted me for a week or something.

After breathing and thinking, I realize I'm overreacting. I know firsthand how grueling the season is. Guys are pulled in so many different directions. It's stressful and overwhelming, especially for a freshman. Jeff is still getting a handle on managing everything. College is a huge step up from high school. Even I've had to make adjustments and I'm only in online classes. Time management is a real thing, and some people don't have it.

But I know Jeff does. He's great at time management. Which must mean something else is going on. Maybe he's too tired to talk, which is understandable. Maybe he thinks I must already be asleep—which I should be—and he doesn't want to wake me up.