Conversations From Afar

66 / creeping

I haven't allowed myself to check Instagram because that means I'll refresh Cam's tagged photos and possibly see another one.

I open Instagram. She posted a #tb from before there was snow; it's a picture of her and Cam and Cam's black-haired, blue-eyed friend Finn. They're sitting on a park bench, smiling around bagels and Cam's arm is the one extended to take the selfie. She looks so mature and highlighted and bronzed and perfect and the way she's leaning into his side is too familiar and scary.

I hide the phone under my textbook and rewrite the definitions for my Human Sexuality exam, haunched over the table with my chill Spotify playlist playing at a loud, somewhat ironic volume.

We've been playing telephone tag, sometimes intentional and sometimes not. I miss him, and it hurts when he doesn't respond for hours and hours, so when he does I feel prickly and hesitant.

I'm scared that he's hanging out with older, smart girls; I'm also scared that he's not and will regret wasting his college years with me.

It's all very confusing.

It buzzes on the table, nearly levitating with excitement.

Cam: Kat, check your email after your exam tonight