Page 126 of I Hope This Finds You Well

A rush swells in my chest as I reach for the envelope, but Miley pulls it back. “I didn’t even open it, but the way you’re looking at it like it’s a bomb, I’m thinkingnotsnooping was a huge mistake.”

She hands it over and I peek inside. Of course it’s not a note. It’s just the desk crap he tried to give me when he came over. For the best, of course. A clean break is honestly the best way.

I drop it into my box. “I’ll catch you around, Miley.”

She blinks up at me and gives a rushed but sincere smile. “Bye, Jolene.”

No Outside Food Allowed

My mom gave my room a thorough deep cleaning before I arrived, and the chemical fresh scent from the products she’d sprayed over every surface lingers.

I threw out most of the stuff from my old apartment. I don’t want to surround myself with those things, those memories, again. Everything I was afraid would happen happened. Yet relief is what rules me somehow. I inhale the lemon disinfectant and let it cleanse my lungs with carcinongens.

I pull the lid off one of the few boxes I’ve brought upstairs. Inside sits Miley’s zebra and the envelope from Cliff she’d given me as I left.Things forgotten in your deskisprinted in his writing on the front.

Recycling it would be nothing at all. If I do that, I can move on to all the things I’ve actually planned to do this afternoon: setting up my room, going with my mom to the store to get new things, researching programs at local universities. If I open this now, it would mean going back to that cubicle, back to that person.

I stare at it for too long. Finally, just as I’ve decided to take it to the bin, my mom calls my name from downstairs and I whip around, my arm hitting the envelope and spilling its contents onto the floor.

I bend down to gather it. It’s just napkins, Post-it notes that have lost their stickiness, old receipts. But my heartbeat halts as I pick up the first item: the Post-it note I’d grabbed off the donut box Cliff brought for the whole office that readsNot Poison ;). Next is the sketch he made to show me the set ofKidstreet. The napkin with the name Robin Winters written on it, from when we got milkshakes. The receipt from my bowling shoe rental. The ticket stub from the movies.

Why was I such a pack rat? I put all these things in that bottom drawer because they didn’t feel like garbage. They all meant so much to me. It’s so obviously laid out here.

Undeniable.

He knew when he came to see me. He knew when he left.

He knew.

I clock a Post-it note I’ve never seen before. There’s a doodle of a cat.Underneath is written:You’re brave.

Instantly my phone is in my hands. It’s urgent and ill-advised and impulsive.

He’s probably in Vancouver by now. He probably has moved on from our last conversation.

But it’sCliff.

I bring up his number and type one line:I miss you.

I throw my phone on the bed. I don’t deserve an answer. Last time we spoke, he was reaching out tome—despite everything I did—and I turned him away. Why would he give me another chance?

After watching my phone obsessively for a full hour, I accept that no reply is coming. It’s time to move on. So I go downstairs to join my mom and get on with all the errands we planned for the day.

But late at night, as I’m brushing my teeth, my phone buzzes. Only one word sits on the screen, but I exhale with relief. My favorite word.Milkshakes?

I can do this. I just need to breathe through the tightness inside as I open the ice-cream-cone-shaped door.

This is Cliff. It won’t be bad even if it goes terribly.

The place is mostly empty, and the only sound is the buzz of the refrigerators. One bored-looking teen in a retro all-white creamery uniform stares at his phone behind the counter.

Cliff’s already sitting at the booth in the back, two Tiger-Tastic shakes waiting. He’s got a collared shirt on and a fresh haircut with just a bit of gel. So perfectly Cliff.

His gaze draws to me as I shakily make my way over.

“Hey, Jolene,” Cliff says when I reach him and lower myself into the seat across from him. He gives me a tentative stare, like he’s not sure what I’ll do next.

“Hey, Cliff.” I return a wobbly grin. There’s so much to say. But being near him... his eyes... my insides whoosh, and all the words I’d mapped out in my head leave me.