"So?" he chides.

"So? So what?"

"What are you gonna write back?"

"Fuck." I release the phone like it's fire in my hands. "I don't know! What should I write?"

"I don't know, dude." He's as panicked as I am. "Something witty? She thought you were funny right?"

"I guess. I don't have anything funny to say!" I pick up the phone again. "I'll just—" I type out a text and hit send without thinking.

"What did you say?" Minge asks, his voice high pitched.

"I miss you."

"I MISS YOU!" he yells in disbelief, then throws his body back into his chair. "What the fuck? You didn't even work your way to that. You just went straight for it. Now she has nowhere to go! What if she doesn't want to say I miss you back? Then what? What will she say?"

"Shut up." I'm on my feet, pacing the floor. "You're making me fucking nervous."

"I'm just saying... you should have eased into the feels. That was a shit move."

"Fuck!" I link my fingers behind my head and stare up at the ceiling. "How long has it been since I texted back?"

He shrugs. "Like, thirty seconds."

"She should have written back by now."

"You need to calm down."

"I was calm!" I shout. "You and your easing into feels bullshit made me nervous. It's your fault!"

*

"How long has it been?" I ask him.

He looks at his watch. "Three minutes."

I pick up my phone, make sure the ringer's on and it's charged, and then throw it on the couch.

*

"How long now?"

"Seven minutes," he says. "I told you to do something funny. Not I miss you."

"Shut up."

My phone beeps with a text. We both lunge for it. I punch him in the gut when he gets to it first.

"You're fucked," he groans, his arm pressed against his stomach.

"Quit being a pussy and man the fuck up." I close my eyes and breathe deeply, waiting for the adrenaline to settle. When I open them, Minge is back on the recliner, but he's on his feet, squatting at the edge. "What the fuck are you doing?"

He ignores my question. "What the fuck did she say?"

I look down at my phone and open the text. "I miss you too!" I laugh, relieved at her words.

He cheers.

And then we hug, jumping up and down as we do.

It lasts a few seconds before we both realize that we're twenty-one-year-old dudes and not nine-year-old One-Directioners.

He clears his throat and does something that looks like flexing his muscles.

I belch.

Because right now I think it's important that we both remind ourselves that we're manly assholes.

"So what are you going to write back?" he asks, just as I hit send.

I grimace.

"What the fuck did you write?"

"Um..." I hesitate to tell him.

This time he punches me in the gut, swiping my phone out of my hand at the same time.

"I LOVE YOU!" he shouts. The same disbelief as last time. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

I rub the back of my head in annoyance. "I don't know. She should know that I love her, I thought... I just... I just wanted her to know."

He rolls his eyes so high, I'm sure he can see the back of his head. "Now we're going to sit here anxiously and wait for her to write back. What if she doesn't say it back? What are you gonna do then? Do you even fucking listen to me?"

"Shut up!" I know he's right, but I don't want to think about it.

*

"How long?"

"Two minutes from the last time you asked me." We're both squatting on our seats, staring at the phone in the middle of the coffee table.

"Come on, Luce," I whisper.

"She can't hear you, dickhead."

"Fuck you," I clip, my eyes never leaving the phone.

Finally, after what feels like forever, she writes back. This time, neither of us move. We just stare.

"I'm scared," I tell him.

"You should be, asshole."

"You're supposed to be my friend."

We both keep staring at the phone, not looking at each other when we speak.

"Yeah," he says, "and friends are supposed to listen to friends. I don't see you listening to me."

I squeeze my eyes shut and work up the nerve to pick up the phone. I tap the screen. Open the text. And then read it out loud. "I love you, too. I'm coming home tomorrow. I know it's late notice, but could you pick me up from the airport? I think I'd like you to be the first face I see."

"FUCK YEAH!" he squeals.

I fist pump the air.

And then we hug.

Jump up and down.

Spin in circles.

High five.

Then sit back down and crack open a beer.

"So what did you write back?"

"That I'd move heaven and earth to be there."

"Lame."

"Also, you need to cover my shift tomorrow."

"I don't even work there."

"I don't even care."

-LUCY-

"So he's meeting you at the airport?" Claudia asks.

I finish dressing after my shower and look down at myself. "Yeah," I shout so she can hear me from her room on the other side of the bathroom door. "I texted him this morning with the flight details." I open the door so she can see me. "Does this look okay?"