FOURTEEN
Please don’t die.
I stare at the screen in shock.
From: Lonerguy279
To: Pinkstar737
Subject: I don’t want a “virtual” hug.
Dear Pinkstar737,
I want to meet you. In person. I attend UGA as well, and think it’s time to talk face to face.
Meet me tonight at 7.
Sincerely,
Lonerguy279
Attached to the email is directions to a diner in town.
He wants to meet me.
Tonight.
And I am freaking out.
How can I meet him in person? We’ve talked over email for so long that I’m scared to actually see him in person. What if he doesn’t like me anymore once we meet? What if he doesn’t email me anymore? How can I live without his emails? Is it possible we can have a friendship outside of the computer?
I hesitantly hit reply.
From: Pinkstar737
To: Lonerguy279
Subject: RE: I don’t want a “virtual” hug.
Dear Lonerguy279,
I’ll be there.
Sincerely,
Pinkstar737
I hit send, then shut my computer.
“What did I just do?”
…
“I’m meeting Lonerguy279,” I tell Micah as I’m hanging out in his dorm room that afternoon. Marisa has a part time job, so she is working. It’s practically the only time I get to hang out with him anymore, but I don’t mind. He’s in love.
He immediately stops playing the guitar. “You’re going to go meet somebody you’ve only talked to online?”
I nod.
“Alone?”
I nod again.
“Have you told Cam?”
“No,” I answer.
“Are you going to?” he asks.
“I don’t know. He probably wouldn’t want me to go. He doesn’t even like me emailing him. I mean, meeting Lonerguy279 is safe. We met through my therapist. She wouldn’t have set me up to write somebody crazy,” I say.
“Isla, you met the guy through your therapist. People don’t go to therapy for no reason,” Micah says. “What if he is crazy?”
“He’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve talked to him every single day for the past year and a half. Before I came to college, I would literally sit in front of my computer waiting on his emails,” I tell Micah. “He was my entire life. He’s not crazy.”
“You talked to him everyday for a year and a half and never told him what happened to you. I’m sure there are things you have hid from this guy, because it’s easy to hide stuff when you’re behind a keyboard. You could be meeting a murderer,” he says. “I don’t think you should go.”
“I can’t not go,” I say. “I’m not… ready to lose him yet.”
“You have us. Me and Cam. You even have your roommate now,” Micah says.
“I only get you when Marisa is at work,” I remind him.
“We’re in the beginning stage of our relationship. We can’t stand to be away from each other right now,” he says. “Give us a few months, and then we will invite you along. Besides, you’re the one who helped me get a date with her to begin with. You’re destined to be the godmother of our kids someday.”
“Kids? It’s that serious?”
“You’re not changing the subject,” Micah says. “I want you to be around to be the godmother of my kids someday. Please, don’t go.”
“I have to, Micah. I have to know.”
“Then tell Cam.”
“He won’t let me go and you know it,” I say. “And I have to go. Please just trust me on this. This guy… he’s not a murderer. I know something bad has happened to him too, but I don’t know what. I don’t want to know. He’s kind. And I promise he is not going to murder me.”
“You know I can’t let you go alone. Cam would kill me.”
“I know,” I say. “I was hoping you could go and kind of watch from a distance. I’d ask Cam, but he is so protective. He wouldn’t leave my side. He’d scare the guy off. And I have to do this.”
“Are you sure you have to?” he asks.
“Yes, I am.”
He sighs. “Fine, Isla. I’ll go sit in a booth where I can watch, just in case. But know that if anything happens to you, Cam will kill me. So I will never get to have those hypothetical children that I spoke of. My unborn children’s futures rests in your hands.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
…
As I take a seat in an empty booth in the diner, my phone vibrates with a stream of texts. I already know that it’s most likely Micah who is sitting in a corner booth. He’s close enough to intervene if needed, but not close enough to hear our conversation.
Micah: Please don’t die.
Micah: Think of my future children.
Micah: And Marisa.
Micah: I’d have to haunt her and her future boyfriends.
Me: I’m not going to die. But if I do, Cam will not kill you.
Micah: Yes, he will.
I roll my eyes.
Micah: Don’t roll your eyes at me.
Me: Then chill. Cam is not going to kill you. But I might.
Micah: Geez… somebody is cranky.
Is he serious right now?
At least he is distracting me from being nervous.
Because I am nervous.
Like, I have to remind myself to breathe in and out.
Micah: I’m just concerned about your safety.
Micah: Also, I MAY have texted Cam and he may or may not be on his way here at this very moment.
My eyes widen at his confession.
Yep, definitely going to kill him.
The door opens, making my heart stop momentarily. I look up and see Scott walk in.
Okay, so it’s not Lonerguy279 yet.
But, seriously… did Micah tell everybody that I am here?
Scott takes a seat across from me.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I say. “But you guys need to chill. I’m not here to meet a murderer.”
“I know that you’re not meeting a murderer,” Scott says.
“How do you know?” I ask. “Have you hacked into my email account?”
It wouldn’t surprise me if he had been reading every email I’ve sent and received over the past year. That’s totally something he would do.
“Isla, I am Longerguy279,” Scott says.
“What?”
I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open.
“After… everything happened… we drifted apart. And I missed you. When Dr. Sanchez asked me if I wanted to be your anonymous pen pal, I jumped at the chance. I didn’t know how to talk to you, but I didn’t have to try so hard when I was Longerguy279,” Scott says.
“But I said so many mean things about you,” I say. “I mean he… you… were my escape from all the bad things. I told you so much.”
“I know. I felt like I was deceiving you,” he says. “When I got those emails and saw in black in white what I was doing, it killed me. But I didn’t know how to stop. But then seeing that you still loved me, despite everything, it gave me the strength to keep going.”
“Wow,” I say. “I can’t believe it was you.”
“I’m sorry, Isla. You needed me, and I quit being your brother. When you needed me most, I abandoned you. It kills me to think about how I treated you.”
“Scott, I forgave you a long time ago.”
He smiles. “I love you, Isla.”
“I love you too,” I say, then laugh. “Do you really like Korean pop music?”
He nods. “I really do. But I think I just liked it because it made me feel closer to you. Though, I got to admit, those boys in BTS sure can dance.”
I shake my head at him.
“Do you think I could learn to dance like that?”
“Absolutely…” I pause. “Not. You’re white. Sorry. There is not one dancing bone in your body.”
“I’m Asian,” he says.
“Umm… no, you’re not.”
“No, I am. I’m Caucasian. Get it. Asian. Caucasian.”
“That’s not funny. Like, at all.”
“Whatever. I’m Asian on the inside,” he says. “Do you think I could make it as the first ever white Korean pop star?”
I put my head on the table. “I give up.”
The door opens up again, and this time Cam walks through the door.
“Oh, thank God,” Cam says, as he gets up to the table. “Scott, you’re here. Can you talk her out of this? She doesn’t need to meet some strange guy she’s been talking to online. If you can’t talk her out of it, I’ll carry her out of here.”
“Wow. Why don’t you guys discuss this while I go get a milkshake,” I say, standing up.
I walk up to the counter and see Scott and Cam talking. I just smile.
I’m lucky. I have a lot of people in my life that love me. What more could I ask for?
…
“Cam said he would carry you out of the diner?” Zoe asks.
I nod my head. “He did.”
“Wow,” she says. “I bet you wouldn’t mind being carried out of there by him. But what a chauvinistic thing to say. Yet, oddly romantic.”
“He is kind of perfect,” I say.
“Ugh oh. It sounds like your crushing on him,” she says.
“I am,” I admit. “Like hardcore. But also, I’m not ready to be anything more than his friend. Cam knows that. He’s okay with just being my friend.”
“I see why you like him. He’s a sweet guy,” she says. “You two are kind of perfect for each other.”
I hope so.
Like, really, really hope so.
“What about Scott?” Zoe asks. “Is he single?”
“Yeah. Why? Do you like my brother?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Maybe. He’s kind of cute,” she says. “Do you think he likes Chinese girls?”
“He definitely has a thing for Asian girls,” I say, thinking about our earlier conversation. “Scott has issues, like me. So try not to let it hurt your feelings if he doesn’t want a relationship past friendship. It can grow. It just… might take some time.”
“I understand,” she says. “Have you guys had a rough life?”
I nod. “Like, more than you know.”
“What happened?” she asks. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“It’s a long story, but I don’t want to go into all the details. Here is the short version. Scott was dating this girl for, like, two years. I thought they would be together forever,” I say. “And she died. Along with all of our best friends. Scott was out that day. He had a doctor’s appointment. But I was there. A guy in our class came in and shot them all. He didn’t shoot me. But my friend, Olivia, she lived. She’s in a coma, not expected to ever wake up.”
“Wow. I don’t even know what to say,” she says. “How are you even functioning?”
“Lots of therapy,” I answer. “And Lon… umm… Scott. Scott helped me through the worst time in our life.”
“Scott lost all his friends and his girlfriend, but you saw them die,” she says.
“I did,” I say, trying not to think about it.
“Wow,” she says again.
“Yeah. So that is our story,” I say.
“No. Not it is not your story. It’s just part of your story. Your life is your story,” she says. “You obviously haven’t let that define you.”
“It’s a work in progress,” I say.
Every single day that I wake up is a miracle. And I’m tired of being defined by what happened to me. It’s a choice, and I’m finally choosing right. It feels very free.