Free Thousand Words by Jennifer Brown

again.”
    “Okay, good.” I climbed the stairs to my room. “Talk tomorrow?”
    “Sure. Love you.”
    “Love you, too.”
    But even as I hung up, I couldn’t help wondering if that was the prevaricatoriness Dad was always talking about that I was hearing in Kaleb’s denial.
    And I couldn’t ignore the little voice in my head that was saying if he slipped up once, who was to say he wouldn’t slip up again?

AUGUST/SEPTEMBER
    Message 81
    Daaaaaamn that’s HOT!
    We started school on a Tuesday in August. Kaleb drove away the following Thursday afternoon for freshman orientation. The college suggested that the best way for freshmen to battle homesickness during orientation was to avoid contact with home for the entire week so they could concentrate on getting used to living on their own and getting to know the campus.
    We stayed out until the very last second of my curfew Wednesday night, kissing and holding each other in his parents’ basement as if to make up for time we knew we were going to be missing. I cried when he dropped meoff. It felt so final. I didn’t know how I’d ever make it through a day, much less a week, a month, a semester without him.
    I was a zombie at first, thinking about nothing but Kaleb. About what he was doing and who he was doing it with. So in love and missing him so much it physically hurt. I hadn’t seen him as often as I’d wished during the summer. But this was different. At least during baseball season I could stop by if I wanted to, I could see him if I wanted to. With him at college I had no choice but to be away from him.
    He didn’t call me when his week was up. And he didn’t answer when I called, either. I was convinced that something horrible had happened to him, that something horrible had happened to us, so by the time we finally talked, a week and a half after he left, we fought.
    I called, and at last he picked up, but he was too busy to talk. In the background I heard plates clinking and girls’ laughter.
    “I was worried about you. You were supposed to call me days ago,” I said.
    “I’ve been really busy. You don’t understand. They make you do all kinds of stuff during orientation. You don’t have time to talk to anyone. I’ve barely even talked to my roommate. And I really do have to go.”
    My eyes felt full and I bit my lip, feeling numb. He was so pulled away, I barely knew his voice. “Okay. Will you call me later?”
    “Maybe tomorrow or the next day.”
    Now my eyes were burning and I knew I was going to cry if this kept up. First his boys, then his orientation, now he was too busy. Why did it seem like there was always something more important to Kaleb than me? But I missed him so much, I wasn’t going to say anything. “Okay. I love you.”
    He paused, and again I heard girls’ voices in the background. “Um, I’m not alone in here.”
    “So what? You can’t tell me you love me?”
    “Not right now.”
    “Because there are girls there?”
    “No, because there are people here, Ashleigh.” His voice was low and breathy in the phone, as though he was cupping a palm over the receiver or talking facing the wall or something. “Don’t freak out.”
    “I’m not freaking out,” I said, the tears finally spilling over. I swiped at them. I always cried when I got mad. I hated that about myself. Wished I could be cool and venomous. Icy. Instead, I always turned into a four-year-old, and it was embarrassing. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask you to tell me you love me. I miss you.”
    “That’s because you don’t understand. You’re still in high school.”
    “So now I’m some immature little high schooler? You weren’t thinking that last month when you were passing my picture around the table at Pizza Crib.”
    “I didn’t pass that picture around. I’ve told you that.”
    “Oh, okay, so Nate just saw it all on his own.”
    A part of me was surprised that I was bringing up the Nate thing again. Kaleb had sworn he was