I had two deliveries waiting for me when I got home. One was my acceptance letter to Azusa Pacific University. It was my fourth acceptance letter now, and it was still just as exciting as the first. I thoroughly read each and every page, then set it in my desk drawer with the others. The other delivery was my cocoon chair I’d ordered from IKEA. I smiled and went to look for a box cutter to free it from the packaging. After I’d pulled the parts out of the box and put them together, I knew I’d only be able to hang it with help.
I went to Beau’s room and knocked. There was no answer.
I let myself in but he wasn’t in his bed. His bed was made. Several boxes were on the floor filled with his things. It surprised me to see those boxes. He had mentioned moving out but I didn’t think it would be so soon.
I sent him a text: What’s with the boxes? Are you running away from home? Because these couldn’t possibly mean you’re moving out already!
My phone buzzed as I hit Send. How could he have responded that quick? But it wasn’t Beau. It was Seth. I read his text as I left Beau’s room.
Guess who now has his phone back?
I couldn’t help but smile.
Um … your brother?
No.
Your best friend? What was his name again? Corey? Kevin? Something that starts with a hard C sound.
I went to my room and plopped down on my bed next to a pile of clean clothes. I began to fold laundry in between texts.
He answered back: My best friend’s name is Mac. With a hard M.
Really? Who’s Corey then?
I have never mentioned a Corey. Or a Kevin.
Really? You once told me a story about a guy who broke a skateboard in half with his head.
Oh yeah! Look at you and your amazing memory. That was Kevin. Kevin is not my best friend, though.
The guy can break a skateboard in half with his head! Why have you not secured him straight into friend spot number one?
Maddie! You are a horrible guesser! It was me! I have my phone back.
I laughed and shot off another text: Oh, right, that’s what we were talking about … Congrats! But sorry, I’m already through my texts-from-Seth withdrawal. I don’t want to have a relapse.
I picked up a T-shirt to fold and noticed the stitching was coming out of the sleeve. And my blue blouse had a bleach spot on the front. I added them both to my pajama pile, glad I was going shopping with Trina soon. I could use new clothes.
My phone buzzed with Seth’s response.
I feared all my friends might be over their withdrawals. I’m obsolete now.
How is it? Coming back into the real world after serving time? Was it a shock to your senses?
I sent the text and picked up another T-shirt to fold. Then the smile that had been plastered on my face since I had read his first text slipped off, replaced with a numb tingling. Seth was back online now. He was going to find out about me winning the lottery. Everything would be different between us. I knew I was being selfish, but I just wanted another week or two with a friend who didn’t know about my lottery win. Someone who didn’t always mention my money. I’d tell him eventually, but I just wanted a little longer.
I threw the T-shirt into the pile and went back to my computer. Facebook was up on my screen and I scrolled through it to see when the last time someone had mentioned me and the lottery online had been. There was lots of talk about the party happening this weekend, but unless someone already knew, it wouldn’t have been obvious that I was throwing it. I had to scroll several pages back to find the lottery mentioned by a friend Seth and I didn’t share. Maybe he wouldn’t see it. My phone buzzed with Seth’s reply. It’s like riding a bike, Maddie. A social media bike.
I bit my lip, waiting for his next text to come through. The one that would say, By the way, congratulations.
My phone buzzed again.
No running. Just moving. I found a place. It’s awesome. I’m going to send you pictures. I’m here now.
“What?” I said out loud, confused. Then I realized the new text was from my brother, answering my question about the boxes in his room. Photos of the inside of an empty apartment began popping up on my phone.
Where is this? I texted back.
Beau shot me the address.
It’s in the Heights? Are you crazy?
The Heights was an upscale gated community up on a bluff that overlooked the valley. Rent in a community like that had to be super expensive.
I got a deal.
Congrats! I’m excited for you. You’re going to be Mr. Popular at UC Irvine next semester.
Another text from Seth popped up then.
By the way, I got your text. I can totally come to your birthday party this Saturday.
Funny. You’re a month too late.
I always am.
You’re always a month late? You should work on that.
I sat in my chair for ten long minutes, waiting for Seth to respond. He didn’t. I wondered if he’d walked away from his phone. I tapped my fingers on my desk, tempted to call him. We never called each other. We had only ever texted.
Speaking of parties, I texted, there’s one this Friday. Are you going?
It seemed like everyone knew about my party. Did he? Even without a shared online friend group, it was possible he’d heard about it through the friend of a friend. Or it was possible I was being paranoid.
Yes, I’m going to a party. My grandma turns eighty on Friday. I guess that’s some sort of big accomplishment. I told her almost everyone was living to eighty these days so she shouldn’t be too proud of herself.
I snorted. You did not.
I totally did. But I think she knows I was kidding.
I hope so.
That’s obviously not the party you were talking about, though.
No … not exactly.
So wait, are you going to a party on Friday?
Yes.
One of these days, we’re going to be at a party together and it will be epic.
One of these days I was going to tell him about winning the lottery, then we’d see about the epic part.