Love Story(76)
Author: Jennifer Echols

“I know you,” Summer said. “There is no way you would spring for Thanksgiving dinner in the dining hall. You’ll be right here in the room, boiling ramen noodles in your hot pot.”

I had thought I would be relieved when Summer and Jřrdis left on Tuesday, not because they bugged me, but because it would be nice to have the place quiet and to myself, and I could get some writing done. Since my talk with Gabe, I’d been working on my end-of-semester portfolio. I’d figured out a way to save my grade, save Hunter’s grade, and get my internship after all. I’d included my stories from the class, plus Hunter’s stories that I’d copied in the library. And around them, I’d filled in the real journey Hunter and I had taken. The stories themselves might still be exploitive and debauched, but the portfolio as a whole made some sense out of the experience, and—I hardly dared say—some art.

All I had to do was get Hunter’s permission.

I worked hard at first, halfway glad I’d been fired and determined to make the most of this windfall of time before I found a new job. But the hours and the silence weighed on me. I found myself lying on my bed, staring out the window, wishing for someone interesting to walk by, waiting for any noise upstairs, just to know there was someone in the building with me, keeping me company. I gripped both sides of the bed whenever I heard footfalls in the stairwell.

They didn’t sound like Hunter. I wondered if he had gone home.

Wednesday morning I woke with my laptop open on my tummy. Hunter was rummaging through my dresser, packing my suitcase.

I yawned and sat up. My laptop tumbled closed on the pillows. “Is my dad going to be there?”

“Absolutely not,” Hunter said without looking up from his neat folding. “But I hear you’re out of a job, so that’s no excuse for staying. There’s lots to fly to Louisville for.”

“The end of the fall meet,” I murmured. I missed the horses.

“There’s the end of the fall meet,” he agreed. “And there’s, you know, Thanksgiving, which you usually spend with the people you love the most. And then there’s me.”

He stopped folding. We exchanged a long look.

“Have you bought the tickets already?” I asked. “I thought my grandmother cut you off when you told her we were together.”

“That was the deal,” he said. “But she’s been calling me for updates about you. I guess I’m still employed for now.”

“Even after you were so naughty?”

“Even after that. She can’t admit this, but all she ever really wanted was to know you were okay and didn’t hate her.”

I blinked. “I don’t hate her,” I said, realizing this for the first time.

“Come with me to Louisville, and tell her.”

“All right.” I feigned reluctance. “Give me a few minutes to wrap up this writing and get ready.”

He nodded and pointed toward the larger bedroom. “I’ll wait for you out there. Jřrdis needs a lot more faces cut out for her project next semester.”

“Oh joy.”

After he left, I opened my laptop. While I was showering, I would print out the collaboration I’d been working on so Hunter could read it on the airplane. I hoped he approved. I prayed he would get it. There was a small, glimmering chance he would love it.

Thankfully it was almost ready to go, but it had no title page. Thinking of Hunter, whose opinion mattered to me even more than Gabe’s at that moment, I typed, love story.

And laughed.

In the larger bedroom I plugged the laptop into Summer’s printer, then stepped out the door with my bucket of toiletries, headed for the shower. As I looked back, Hunter glanced up from his magazine and scissors and grinned at me. This smile was for real.