Destination Reached

SOPHIA

I stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the ceiling fan spin continuously around. There was gecko in the corner, right by the water damage that Abby had insisted was not a problem(I had called a repairman and they'd be coming by in two weeks). The first time I'd seen a gecko in my room I'd screamed bloody murder, so much so that Jake had nearly tripped over his own feet racing into my room to see if I was being hacked to death by a cold blooded serial killer. Now of course, I was used to them, and once Jake realized I was in no immediate danger and my heart rate returned to normal, we'd had a good laugh about it. They were sorta cute, I supposed.

    I rolled to my side, unplugging my phone from where it had been charging all night. For once, I had woken up before my alarm, and, because I heard no sounds of pots, pans, the coffee grinder, or the clinking of mugs, maybe before Jake as well.

    I scrolled through Instagram for a few minutes, smiling at the picture of Maia and I on my feed she'd posted yesterday, and trying my best not to stare too long at the picture on Kai's story of Jake and baby Ellery. I also successfully resisted the urge to click on Maia's profile and look for the thousandth time at the photo of me and Jake at the beach.

    It was easier than it had been. Especially since now every time I looked at it, I was also confronted with Tommy's comment, which had haunted me since I'd gotten the notification.

    I pulled up Reagan's contact and tapped the FaceTime button. I was pretty sure she'd pick up. It was noon there.

    Sure enough, within three rings Reagan's beaming face swam into view. I recognized her background immediately. She was at a favorite local café of ours  that doubled as a bookstore and served the best tomato soup and grilled cheese ever.

    "Hey girl, hey," she said. "What's up?"

    "Nothing much," I whispered, burrowing under the covers in order to muffle my voice.

    Her brow furrowed, "Why are you whispering?"

    "It's early here," I answered, yawning for effect, "and I think Jake's still sleeping."

    Reagan's freckled face lit up in delight at the mention of his name as she waggled her ginger eyebrows suggestively, "And how is loverboy?"

    "Reagan," I shook my head. "He's not—"

    "Soph, for the love of god, you are literally a rom-com in the making," she interrupted me. "Let me live vicariously through you."

    "We're just friends," I said quietly, smiling.

    "Just friends, my ass," scoffed Reagan. "We all saw the Insta photo, Soph."

    My stomach curdled guiltily, and I buried my face in the mattress, "Ugh. Don't remind me."

    "Speaking of loverboys..." Reagan hummed, sipping on her matcha latte. "Guess who I'm out to lunch with?"

    I paled, "Is he—?"

    "Inside," Reagan reassured me, "ordering. He'll be back soon though."

    I bit my lip, "So did you...you know?"

    "Tell him about Jake?" Reagan nodded. "Not like you gave me much choice." After I'd seen that comment I'd called Reagan in a panic and basically begged her to tell Tommy about Jake for me. I just couldn't stomach it. Not when he clearly knew of his existence, and clearly realized I had not told him some pretty vital information about my living situation despite texting and calling frequently. Ugh. Why didn't I just tell him in the first place?

    "How did it go?"

    "Fine," she shrugged. "Weird."

    "Weird how?"