Nineteen

Chapter Seventy

I wake up drenched in sweat. My eyes are matted together and it takes everything in me to open them. Somehow I feel worse this morning than yesterday. The sun feels as if it could kill me in any moment.
I roll to check my clock and I see that it's past one thirty. I've slept the day away, once again.
I roll to the side of the bed until I'm on the edge. I use every fiber in my body to raise myself to my feet. I literally groan out loud from the effort it takes.
My feet feel like they've never been used before. I make a mental note to never put myself through that much again.
I pad across to my closet to find some clothes when I notice a note on the floor, right below the door.
When I reach down to read it, I see that it has my name across the front in a glitter font. I like it.
I open it to see
"my dearest Emory, please join me for dinner tonight. I'll pick you up at 7; wear your best dress. P.s. I hope you like the glitter. Take that as a hint for your outfit. Love, Collin."
I have to read the note three times before I believe that it's actually from Collin. It sounds like something Link would say.
Link. I forgot all about him.
I grab my phone to see a text from him already.
"Feeling better today?"
I reply with yes and I'm instantly greeted with his name on the screen with an incoming call.
"Hello?"
"Emory Shay, have you been avoiding me?" He laughs.
I laugh with him; it's a contagious sound.
"I have not. I've just been busy."
"Well I've been busy too, but I've still made time to think about you."
My heart kind of flutters. I'm unsure if he meant it in the way that I took it, but it sounded as such.
"You're just better than I am, I guess."
He laughs. "We have always known that."
I love how easy it is with Link. We know each other, even after all the years that passed, we fall right back into the kids we were many moons ago.
"Do you remember when we rode your motorcycle to a park, and your aunt had to come get us before someone called the cops?"
He laughs. "She was so mad at me for doing that. She didn't know that I had done it about a million times before that."
I'm not laying on my bed, staring out the window. "I was only 14."
"I was 17, I think. I can't remember."
He gives me a sense of calm in my life that seems like a storm lately.
"I have a job interview at a bookstore on Tuesday ," I blurt out.
"You'll get it," he says. "Then maybe you can save some money to move out of the dorms."
I want to live somewhere else, but I don't think a bookstore job can afford that. I'm still hoping maybe Clark will like the idea.
"I hope," I say.
We wrap up our conversation and say goodbye. He promises to call me later, only after I promise I'll answer.
After I hang up the phone, I take the next hour to study and do some homework.  I've almost forgotten I'm here as a college student and not on some wild vacation.
By four o'clock I'm absolutely starving and my head is killing me. I grab a granola bar from my desk and devour it, but it does nothing for my stomach. I need real food.
I remember my note from earlier, but I choose to ignore it for now. I still have time if I'm going to go out somewhere.
My head throbs at the words going out. The last thing I need is another wild night to wake up from. I really just want to stay in and sleep.
I grab my purse, throw on some perfume and foundation, and slip into some flip flops. I grab my keys on the way out of the door and make my way into the Florida heat.