Hey. Sorry, I was in class when you called. I have like fifteen minutes until my next one, so if you get this, call me. If you’re already sleeping . . . I love you. Have sweet dreams, Mike.

I am so fucking sorry, baby. My phone went dead and I forgot my charger at the fucking hotel. [frustrated sigh] I miss you so fucking much. How long are classes? Like an hour and a half? [long pause] I’m just going to wait up, okay? Call me when you get out.

As I walk out of Campbell Hall, I listen to one ring, two rings, three rings, four rings—

“Hey,” Mike rushes to say on the other end of the line, urgency pushing through the grogginess in his voice.

“Did you fall asleep?” I ask, tucking a pencil behind my ear as I walk to the commuter parking lot.

“Yeah. Shit. What time is it?”

“Five a.m. your time. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“No, no.” Mike yawns, and I hear the rustling of covers. “I’m awake.”

Guilt gnaws at me, knowing what a huge show he just played, and I say, “You should get some sleep—”

“Don’t you miss me?”

The truth is, the sound of his voice makes me feel empty, like my heart is missing from my chest and I don’t know where to find it.

“You know I miss you,” I say, even though the words don’t feel like enough. I miss my parents and my brother and my potbelly pig, Teacup, but the thought of them doesn’t make me want to sleep in a dark room all day.

“Then talk to me.”

“I wish you were here.”

“Me too,” Mike says, the sadness in his voice matching my own.

“Five days,” I remind him, because in this moment, I need it to be only five days. I don’t care about Danica’s ultimatum or the fact that Phoenix is still living in his house—I just want to hug him, feel him, kiss him, hold him.

“Ten.” A deep sigh pushes through the phone. “We added two more European tour stops on the way home. Shawn thought it would be a good idea, but I really didn’t want to, Hailey. I just want to come home to you . . . But it’s only five extra days . . .”

“Ten days?” I ask to make sure I heard him right, and Mike growls at the hopelessness in my voice.

“I should’ve told him no.”

“No, no, it’s a good idea.” I force the words of assurance from my mouth, even as my chest grows yet more hollow. “I mean, they’re on the way, right? Might as well.”

Mike exhales another frustrated sigh. “I hate being so far away from you.”

“How many miles?” I ask to try to cheer him up.

“Too fucking many.”

I open my car door and sit inside, my eyes focused on my steering wheel, while my mind is somewhere else. “How often do you have to do this?”

“Tour?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Usually a couple months out of the year.”

“Every year?”

I watch students walk past my car, one after another, while I wait for Mike’s answer. Eventually, he says, “You can come along. Next time, come with me.”

“I have school,” I say, hating the way the hopefulness in his voice disappears.

“Oh, right.”

Someone honks their horn behind me, and I glance in my rearview mirror. With an irritated growl, I say, “I’ve got to go. Some asshole is honking for me to give them my parking spot.”

“Tell them to fuck off,” Mike says, and I throw my hand up between my seats.

“Fuck off!”

Another long honk, another angry growl. “I’ve got to be at the shelter in twenty minutes anyway. I should go.”

“Forget the shelter,” Mike says, but the fight is gone from his voice.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” I promise. “You don’t have a show tonight, right?”

“No, just some appearance at a record store or something.”

“Okay, I’ll set my alarm and call you around eight, okay?”

“Okay,” he relents.

“Try to get some sleep. And make sure you have your ringer on.”

“I love you, Hailey.”

“And remember to send me a picture.”

“I love you, Hailey.”

“And hug a koala for me sometime before you come home.”

Mike chuckles. “I love you, Hailey.”

“I love you too,” I say, a soft smile touching my lips even as I flip off the still-honking asshole behind me.

“Ten days,” he says, and my smile slips away.

“Ten days,” I say, putting my car in reverse.

Chapter 46

On Mike’s tear-stained pillow, sleep doesn’t come easy. After we got off the phone, I worked a two-hour shift at the animal shelter, had a quiet dinner with Phoenix, and crawled into his bed, where I finally let go of the emotion I’d been holding in. It’s not an ugly cry, full of convulsions and sobbing—it’s a hopeless cry, one where hot tears escape the corners of my eyes to slide over my cheeks and onto a cold pillowcase. I fall asleep and wake up over and over again, until I’m not sure if I’m in a dream or in reality, and both feel like a nightmare.

Mike gave me five extra days—days I didn’t want—to figure out how to fix things, how to keep him and school. But the problem is, there is no way to fix this, and there never was. I want to choose happiness, but happiness is two pieces of my heart that are pulling in different directions.