𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 with soft and mature themes.
College senior Sierra adores her best friend Brian, but he inadvertently thwarts her love life on occasion. She didn't expect to meet Nick that night, but they quickly fel...
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📱 SIERRA I love your sweet heart. You're the best thing that ever happened to me.
SIERRA Miss you so much. Your hugs, your mind, your laugh, and your super cute butt.
SIERRA Remember when I ordered that purple sweater and it was meant for a Barbie doll? 🤦🏼♀️
SIERRA Nicholas 🥺
***
"Nick?"
I shake my head, returning to Earth. "Sorry, Mom, I've gotta go," I say, my tone flat. It's unlike me, but I haven't felt like myself in at least a week. My attention span is the size of a peanut lately.
"Why don't we visit tomorrow and take you and Sierra to dinner? You sound like you could use a break, and we miss you guys."
Sierra's face flashes through my mind and I squeeze my eyes shut, but it's worse. The ghost of her touch and dulcet tone plagues me when I finally crash for the night, the spot next to me, the one reserved for her, a cold, painful reminder.
Sleeping is damn near impossible. Food makes me queasy, and I'm back to my habit of using the side door instead of the main entrance. I don't want to risk running into her, even though I'm dying to see her.
Papers don't write themselves. All I can do is cram my head full of theories and probable solutions, and survive exams. What will life look like after that, you ask? I'm terrified to find out.
"Uhh, Mom. One second."
I swallow hard, stuff my notebook in my bag, then rip the zipper across the teeth. Bidding goodbye to my roommate Brady and Tyler, I rise from the booth I shared with the lovebirds and cruise toward the hallway, out of the pandemonium. Mom patiently waits for an answer until I clear my throat. "Well, what do you say?"
I heave a sigh, then soften my tone. "We can't. Thank you for checking on me. I'm sorry I sound so stressed."
"That's okay, sweetheart."
"Listen, I'm headed to study. Love you."
"I love you, too, Nicholas."
I wet my lips after ending the call, contemplating caving for the thousandth time this week.
Nobody calls me Nicholas but my mom and her. My stomach lurches at her picture on my screen. Face leaned on her hands while beaming at me across the table.
The hallway buzzes with post-breakfast conversation while people stream through the corridors. I prefer silence or music when I study, not other people. Just one.
I hunker down in my favorite study spot in the Criminal Justice building on the second floor. Back of the building, four couches over. Minimal interruption and distraction, maximum warmth and comfort.
