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When I got to college, I found Devon. She was the closest thing to Nixon I’ve ever had, but it’s not the same. My friendship with Nixon was… more. It was everything.
Nixon: I deserve that. The Nixon in those photos is the only one left. The other version died the day he left Pebble Creek.
Savvy: One day, Nixon. Nothing more.
Nixon: One day, then we’ll revisit the topic?
Savvy: You’re impossible.
Nixon: It’s called strong willed and persistence.
Nixon: Can I call you?
Savvy: Uh… Do people still do that?
Nixon: Answer the phone, Savvy.
I barely have time to read the text and my phone is ringing. I contemplate not answering. I don’t owe him anything, but that isn’t who I am. I'm nice. I'm the girl you can royally screw over and I’ll still smile every time I see you.
And I'm a sucker when it comes to Nixon Russo.
Sucking in a sharp breath and blowing it out slowly, I press accept, holding the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Damn, Savvy. I didn’t think you were going to answer.” Nixon’s voice is so much deeper than it was the last time we spoke. It’s gravelly yet smooth. It’s the type of voice you could listen to for hours, the perfect one for an audiobook narrator.
“Well… I did,” I whisper, unsure of what else I'm supposed to say.
“How’s school?”
“Good. Only a few more weeks and I'm done.”
“That’s good. I'm glad.” He’s quiet for a few seconds and an awkward silence descends over us. This isn't how it’s supposed to be. This isn't the relationship we had.
“Are we really doing this shit?” I sigh.
“What shit?” I can hear the frown in his voice. I'm sure his brows are pulled together and if I were sitting in front of him, he’d be staring deep into my eyes.
“This superficial small talk. That’s never been us, are we really going to do this?” I move through my apartment and find the small box I have in my closet of things from our childhood.
“I hate small talk. I just… I don’t know how to go back to the deep shit.”
“I don’t know… maybe you can start by telling me what happened. Why’d you push me away?” I know I'm being mean, but I don’t know how I'm supposed to act. I want my best friend back. The one staring at me from the top picture in this box.
“Dammit, Savvy. I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I want to explain all of it to you, but I want to do it in person. When you come home, I promise.”
“You hurt me a lot, Nixon.” I trail my fingers over his smiling face and think back to the day this picture was captured.
“I know I did and I’ll never stop regretting my choices and actions, but I'm back. I want us to go back to how things used to be.”
“I'm not sure I can ever trust you like that again,” I whisper, the weight of my words falling hard.
We’re silent for a few minutes. I’d wonder if he hung up, except I can hear his soft breaths on the other side of the line.
“I understand… Please don’t write us off, not yet. One day, Savvy, just one day.”
“Only one.” I repeat what I already texted him.
