I sit on Ellis' bed while he packs, depressed and scrolling up and down Cam's message bubbles. I read them over and over again: I'm sorry; I'll visit soon, or maybe you can?; I love you.
"Kat," Ellis says. Something hits the side of my head, and a sock ball lands in my lap. I drop my phone.
"What?" It's an exhalation; a sigh and a word all rolled into one dejected syllable.
"It doesn't mean anything. It's grad school, there's so much to do. I mean, it's not that different from medical school, and you like never see your other friend...Milo, anymore." He punctuates the sentence with the long, crisp sound of the zipper being pulled across his bag. His hand finds mine, and he draws me to my feet.
I stare at our socks, heavy. It's like a wet, freezing blanket has been thrown over my previous good mood. Like I couldn't possibly say anything without a tint heavy of gloom.
"Hey," he says, then he wraps his arms around my shoulders and hugs me cautiously. As if I might break, or push him away. My arms half-heartedly circle his waist, but my eyes prick. "It's just Thanksgiving. I promise Christmas will be electric, and this weekend we can FaceTime twenty-four-seven."
I make a muffled mmf sound against his button-down and he pats my back. "Have a nice time," I tell him.
He watches me closely when he pulls away. Then he's gone.
***
Love Ellis sm
YOU ARE READING
Conversations From Afar
Short StorySEQUEL TO BALCONIAL CONVERSATIONS | In which Katherine and Cambriel suffer the ups and downs of a long distance relationship | Wattys 2016 | cover by the fabulous @kdkellow
