count on me (l.h)

"how's my favorite girl?"

chapter forty-five: how's my favorite girl?

FRIDAY NIGHT. The week had continued to drag on, proving to be all sorts of boring and uneventful. This was officially the longest I had gone without calling Luke since he left back in July. I was not a fan of the change. I wasn't upset with him, of course, and we had still talked plenty over text, but I missed his voice. He often sent me a voice message when he could, which always cheered me up. 

I wasn't expecting to be able to call him tonight because he had a gig, and it wouldn't be over until around ten or so his time. It was earlier here, so I didn't mind staying up to test my luck. Most nights, he was too tired to call. And I couldn't imagine that would suddenly change.

Part of me worried slightly that he had seemed to lose a sense of motivation to get a call in, but I was doing my best not to take it personally or as some kind of bad sign. I knew he was exhausted and I never wanted him to tire himself out more by worrying about me. If we weren't texting as often as we did, I would have more of a reason to worry. When he was too tired to call or needed to rest his voice after a long day, he'd send me typed novels and strings of text. It was only a daft, insecure voice in my head that tried to make his lack of calling into some sort of thing.

When it hit eight-thirty my time, I knew there'd be no way the boys were still on stage. Although I hadn't witnessed backstage or what it looked like behind the scenes, I had heard enough stories from Luke that I could imagine they were in their debriefing stage. It seemed the boys would talk amongst themselves as well as their crew about the show. I guess they learned something new every night; whether something new happened that they liked or disliked, they were able to evaluate and go on. But it was late enough that it was possible they were already getting their things together to head out and back to their hotel.

I planned on giving it about ten or fifteen minutes before trying to call; if I was lucky, I could catch him at the perfect time and he'd be able to talk. But I didn't allow myself to get my hopes up. Some nights, Luke was good at texting and keeping me updated on goings-on, but other nights it was clear there was a more hectic air about and he couldn't do such things as easily.

Sitting at my dining table, scrolling through a hundred different pairs of jeans that were on sale that I had no business purchasing, I instead opened my messages and typed out one to Luke.

/ Lu /

Hey you :) hoping the show went as well as
you hoped it would. I bet you rocked <3

Depending on how long it took for Luke to respond, I'd have a better idea of where he was at in the process of getting everything wrapped up. After going back to the jeans and waiting nearly ten minutes, I was surprised to not at least have a text back. I didn't let it bug me, I just hoped that he wouldn't forget to at least text me before falling asleep.