Sincerely, Yours

by G. , Whitney

  There were no more words the entire way to the airport. Every few stoplights, our eyes would meet, and his fingers would tighten around mine as each “nearing air-zone” sign whirred by, but neither of us said a word.

  I expected him to finally say something after I checked in, but he didn’t. To my surprise, he checked in for a separate flight and walked with me to the security line.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Nowhere.” His fingers trailed my lips. “I bought the cheapest ticket I could find so I could at least walk you all the way to your gate today.” He smiled. “Is that okay with you?”

  “It’s very okay.”

  Twenty minutes later, when the security agents had combed through my carryon bags, Carter slipped his arm around my waist and walked me to a coffee stand that was right next to my gate.

  “When you get back, you have to tell me everything I’ve missed over Skype,” I said. “You have to video chat with me at least twice a week.”

  “I will.”

  “And I expect you to continue writing me letters this time.”

  “I expect you to actually open them this time.” He smiled, taking a sip from my coffee. “I’ll definitely do that, too.”

  I started to say something else—just to fill time, but he pulled me close and kissed me so hard and deep, that I lost all ability to speak.

  “Attention passengers at Gate C5,” the gate agent said over the intercom. “We are now boarding first class for Flight 4457.”

  “Are you going to go?” Carter asked, slowly pulling his mouth away from mine. “You fall under that category.”

  “No…” I looked at my boarding pass. “I’m in seat 8A. That’s coach class.”

  “It’s a bigger plane.” He smiled. “They assured me it was a first class seat when I called to upgrade it yesterday.”

  “Thank you.” I hugged him. “Thank you very much.”

  “We are now boarding zone one,” the gate agent said. “If you are assigned to zone one, you may now board the plane.”

  I stood still. “So…I guess I’ll see you in six months?”

  “I guess so.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “It’ll fly by this time.”

  I sighed, looking toward the passengers who were making their way onto the aircraft. I noticed that the majority of them were couples.

  “Zone two!” the agent said loudly. “We are now boarding zone two for Flight 4457.”

  “Ari…” Carter narrowed his eyes at me, gestured toward the plane.

  “How mad would you be if I decided that I didn’t want to go right now?” I asked. “Like, on a scale of one to ten?”

  “Twenty.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “But not as mad as you’d be with yourself years from now.”

  “I don’t think that’d be the case.”

  “I do. Trust me,” he said. “You need to walk over there now, Ari.”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but from the way he was looking at me, I could see how hard it’d been for him in this situation when we’d first separated like this. I completely understood.

  “Six months is a very long time, Carter,” I said. “It was hard enough the first—” The rest of my sentence ended on his lips, with him kissing me until I was breathless all over again.

  I struggled to regain my balance, struggled to finish my thoughts, but he continued to thoroughly kiss me.

  “Get on the plane, Ari.” He breathed. “Get on the goddamn plane.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes.” He kissed my lips one last time. “Right. Now.”

  His arms slowly fell from around me and he took several steps back. “If you come near me again, I won’t be able to let you go.”

  “Well, don’t tell me ‘I love you’ and I won’t.”

  “I fucking love you.” He smiled, stepping back again.

  “This is the final call for Elite Airways Flight 4457. If you are a passenger on this flight, and are currently standing in the waiting area, please board now.”

  I rushed over to Carter and stole one last hug. Then I headed for the boarding tunnel, keeping my eyes on him until I couldn’t see him anymore.

  When I settled into my seat, I noticed he’d sent me an email.

  Subject: This Week…

  I mailed my first letter to you in an express package earlier today. It should get there sometime this week. Let me know when you make it back, and Skype me as soon as you get a chance.

  See you in one hundred and sixty eight days.

  Sincerely (in love with you),

  Carter

  The flight attendant secured the cabin door shut before my brain could even attempt to think about getting off the plane.

  Subject: Re: This Week…

  I have something to send you when I get back as well. I will definitely Skype you as soon as I get back to my flat. :-)

  One hundred sixty *seven* days, Carter. Today doesn’t count.

  Sincerely (in love with you, too),

  Arizona

  Six Weeks Gone

  Carter

  Subject: Timing.

  Did you purposely send me those pictures while I was in study hours with Erica?

  Sincerely,

  Carter

  Subject: Re: Timing.

  What? What pictures?

  Confused,

  Arizona

  Subject: Re: Re: Timing.

  You know exactly what pictures I’m talking about, Ari…You just sent them an hour ago.

  For the record, I’m not complaining. In fact, they’re currently making me reconsider waiting one hundred and twenty six days for my flight to see you.

  Talk to you later tonight.

  Sincerely (Aroused),

  Carter

  Subject: Re: Re: Re: Timing.

  Oh, I see…Perhaps, you’re referring to my naked pictures? :-)

  I don’t think I would purposely send them during your study hours with Erica. I mean, especially since you told me the exact time that you two normally get together during the week. I wouldn’t ever want to interrupt that. :-)

  One hundred and twenty *five* days, Carter. How many times do we have to go through this?

  Can’t wait.

  Sincerely (Wishing You Could Come Sooner),

  Arizona

  Dear Carter (JOSH!)

  Do you really think that I don’t know Carter’s handwriting after all these years? Do you really think he would EVER send me a letter that said: “I’m so glad I listened to Josh about you. He was so right about me fucking you one good time and [you] falling back in love with [me]. That’s also why Josh will forever be my number one. Because you had a very long and selfish moment, but Josh has ALWAYS been loyal”??!!

  Grow the hell up!

  And learn how to write a proper sentence. (Aren’t you in law school?)

  Arizona

  Dear Arizona (PAIN IN MY ASS!)

  Of course I’m aware that you know Carter’s handwriting, but since we shouldn’t waste time discussing things you know, here are some things that you don’t: Your never-ending phone calls and Skype sessions (mostly your loud ass laughter and incessant babbling about absolutely nothing: “Oh my god, Carter…I miss you so much, Carter…This distance is killing me every day”) have kept me up every damn night for WEEKS. Is it too much for the two of you to go back to only letter writing and emails?

  I think I liked you better when you weren’t talking to him.

  You grow up first.

  I will definitely learn how to write a proper sentence—from someone who doesn’t start her own sentences with the word “And”.

  Josh

  Subject: Skype App.

  Dear Arizona,

  I’m not sure what could’ve happened to my app between last night and today, but it’s not working. At all. I can’t even re-install it for some reason. I won’t be able to have my laptop looked at until next week, but I’ll use Josh’s computer to reach you tonight.

 
Sincerely,

  Carter

  Subject: Re: Skype App.

  BAHAHAHAHA!!!

  Arizona

  I closed Ari’s latest email and checked the tracking on the most recent package I’d shipped. On nights like tonight, it was if she’d never left the beach, as if she was still seconds away from walking through my front door.

  Over the past few weeks, a new, comforting routine had developed between us. Instead of our usual weekend meet ups, there were early morning emails. Instead of lengthy text messages, there were lengthy picture threads: She sent me her wet and rainy coasts in exchange for white sanded beaches, and I gave her glimpses of times with Josh and Nicole while she showed me random karaoke sessions with her roommate.

  We talked for hours every night, never running out of things to say. And despite the fact that we both had tons of work to do, we never missed a day.

  After confirming that my gift would definitely get to her this weekend, I headed downstairs.

  “Have you talked to your wife tonight?” Josh asked as I stepped in front of the TV. “If so, bravo. I barely heard your conversation this time.”

  “You’ve gone from ‘girlfriend’ to wife now?”

  “Might as well.” He groaned. “I doubt you’ll ever marry, let alone date anyone else.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I need your laptop.”

  “What for?”

  “You know what the hell for.” I reached for it. “My Skype app mysteriously stopped working today. Any idea how the fuck that happened?”

  “No, but I have told you that random things happen in this house.” He smirked. “I told you that a long time ago.”

  “Give me the damn computer, Josh.”

  Laughing, he reluctantly handed it to me. “I swear I wasn’t trying to completely kill your Skype app. I was just trying to ruin it so you’d never be able to use it again.”

  “Did you actually hear what the fuck you just said?”

  “I did.” He laughed even harder. “Wait, before you go back upstairs. I need your advice on something.”

  “Yes, your taste in clothes is terrible. Is that it?”

  “No.” He rolled his eyes. “I think—” He paused. “I think I might actually like someone. More than just a normal ‘like,’ too.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “You’re not really my type.”

  “Seriously?” He crossed his arms. “Did I ever get sarcastic with you when you were moping about Arizona? When you were crying like a goddamn child when every woman on this beach was willing to give her pussy to you and you were too blind to see it?”

  “That’s not how that happened.” I refused to entertain his warped memories any further. “Okay, you like someone. Does this someone have a name?”

  “She doesn’t,” he said. “That’s her best quality. However, I don’t think she’s aware that I actually like her beyond what’s currently happening. There’s only so much more of this ‘just friends’ shit I can take, you know? I’m not you.”

  “Is there a question coming?” I asked. “Or is this an emotional venting session?”

  “I need your advice on helping me figure out how to get away from the friend zone. Preferably by the end of the week, this month at the latest. We can discuss it Saturday.” He grabbed a pair of earplugs and stuck one in his ear. “Okay. I’ve told you what’s up. You can go now.”

  “You don’t want my advice right now?”

  “Not while I think I can actually get some sleep. I would like to attempt this before you get on Skype.” He put the other plug in his ear and rolled over on the couch.

  I was tempted to sit in the kitchen, to pay him back for ruining my app, but I decided against it. I hit the lights and headed back up to my room, opening the laptop at the very second Ari’s call came through.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey.” She smiled. “How long do you think you can stay up tonight?”

  “As long as you need me to.”

  “Good,” she said, staring into the camera. “I’ve had a pretty long day.”

  “Worse than last Thursday?”

  “Way worse than last Thursday.” She sighed. “The lead chef humiliated me in front of everyone. Even though it was the only time I’d ever been late, he said he was giving me an automatic zero grade for the day.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Her lips curved into a small, sexy smile. “Two hours later, he came back to the kitchen and apologized. He said he was just temporarily disappointed in me, but he still thought I was the best in the class. He also offered to give me two extra exempt days for the semester since I always work so hard.”

  “Are you planning to use those extra days to come home?”

  “Not exactly.” Her smile widened. “I’ll use them the same week you come here. That way, I can actually meet you at the airport.”

  “How many days do we have left again?”

  “Way too many.”

  Track 35. New Romantics

  Arizona

  I stared out my window, sighing as a heavy rain fell over the city. It’d been storming all week, and although public transit was running on a delayed schedule, my professors were refusing to be lenient in regards to tardiness. In broken English, my pastry teacher had said something along the lines of, “The outdoor rain does not affect the indoor ovens.”

  Ugh…Please let this weather lighten up by tomorrow…

  After watching one of my neighbors chase her son around gigantic puddles, I stood up and walked over to my hanging calendar. I marked an “X” over today’s date and sketched my usual heart near the edge of the box. No matter how many times I’d done this, the countdown to Carter coming to see me still seemed too far away.

  “Ari?” My roommate—Heather, suddenly stepped into my room. “Can you do me a favor while I’m out tonight?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Can you roll fifty one-inch balls of dough and freeze them? I need them for prep class tomorrow night.”

  “Only if you give me a very good reason as to why you can’t do it yourself.”

  “I don’t have a reason.” She crossed her arms. “This will be you paying me back for when I did the very same thing for you last semester. Don’t you remember?”

  I gave her a blank stare, but I definitely remembered. There’d been more than one occasion when she’d prepped dough for me, back when my heartache had made it too hard to function outside of the classroom.

  “I’ll take that as a yes!” She clasped her hands together. “I’ll tell you all about my date later, and you’ll tell me about your Skype sex with Carter?” She smiled. “Does that really help you two deal with the distance? I mean, do you ever get an orgasm from that?”

  “What?” I felt my cheeks reddening. “I do not have Skype sex.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No, we just talk and catch up. That’s it.”

  “Hmmm.” She tapped her lip. “So, all of that random moaning and murmuring ‘Carter...Oh god, Carter’ is simply your version of—”

  “Didn’t you say that you were going out?” I cut her off, making a mental note to keep my voice ten times lower from now on. “Shouldn’t you be getting to wherever you have to be?”

  “I knew it.” She put her hand over her chest and laughed. “Tell Carter I said hello whenever he calls. I’ll bring you back some dessert. Tiramisu?”

  “Perfect.” I waited until she’d left the flat, until I actually saw her walk away through my window before picking up my laptop and taking it into the kitchen.

  As soon as I’d flattened the first batch of dough, a call came through my screen. Carter.

  I pressed “accept” and waited for the picture to clear.

  “Hey,” I said as his eyes met mine, as the screen moved up and down. “Are you walking?”

  He nodded. “I’m heading across campus to let my windows up. It just started raining out of nowhere. What are you doing?”

  “
A make-up assignment.” I held up a rolling pin. “Heather’s out for the night. Speaking of which, how come you’ve never told me how loud I am when we um…” I gave him a knowing look.

  “When we what, Ari?” He smirked. “What type of look are you trying to make right now?”

  “I thought Josh was just making things up!” I said. “Am I really that loud?”

  He laughed.

  “Carter! Am I?”

  “You are.” He was still laughing. “It doesn’t bother me, though.”

  “Of course it doesn’t bother you.” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for being a true best friend, for not waiting until the very last minute to tell me about it.”

  “You’re very welcome. Is it still raining over there?”

  “Unfortunately. You can call me back, you know. I can wait until you’re inside.”

  “I’m fine.” He ignored my comment. “How long will your roommate be gone?”

  “All night probably,” I said, pushing the dough across the counter. “Would you like to help me practice being quieter?”

  “Not at all.” His camera finally stopped jerking up and down. “Take off your shirt.”

  I smiled and slowly pulled off my cami, revealing a bright, red bra.

  He was silent for a moment, looking as if it was killing him not to be here as always. “Pull your hair up for me.”

  “Up?”

  He nodded, saying nothing further.

  I plucked the elastic band from my wrist and pulled my hair into a high ponytail. Then I stared back at him, waiting for his usual words that made this distance somewhat more tolerable.

  “Carter?” I raised my eyebrow. “Carter?”

  He touched the screen, trailing his finger around the contours of my face. He mumbled something I couldn’t quite hear, but I was pretty sure part of it was, “This is torture.”

  I cleared my throat and waved my hand in front of the screen. “Um…Carter? I’m pretty sure this is the part where you ask me to take off my bra.” I smiled, attempting to mock him. “Take off your fucking bra. This is that part, remember?”