Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Christmas came and went, as did New Year’s Day, and Bree didn't hear from Trent. When she went back to school, he still hadn't called. She'd gotten the impression that he would, so she continued to wait for at least a text from him, but none ever came.

She didn't understand why. He'd finally kissed her, and for Bree, it had been just as magical and amazing as she'd always dreamt it would be. But.... maybe it hadn't been for him. Maybe Trent was not as enamored with her as he had been with the idea of her.

One afternoon, a few days after school started again, she sat on her bed, staring at her phone, debating about whether or not to call him.

Her roommate, Lilly, walked in and sat down on her own bed next to Bree. "What are you doing? Please tell me you're not thinking about calling Jason."

"Oh, God, no." It was enough to make Bree toss her phone aside. "Gross. I'm so glad there was nothing wrong with your car."

"Yeah, the jackass just didn't know how to put gas in it, apparently." She rolled her eyes and picked up her laptop. "So, what were you doing?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. Just thinking about calling one of my friends I saw at the cabin. Things were kind of weird when I left. I just wanted to see if he was okay." She tried to play it off, but Lilly could see right through her.

"A friend you wish was more than a friend?"

Bree shrugged. She'd never told her anything about Trent, only mentioned his name a few times when she was talking about her friends in general. "It doesn't matter. I'm not calling him anyway."

"Well, I just saw that other music major who lives a few rooms down out in the commons area. He was practicing the guitar. It's that same guy who rescued yours when it was stolen. Maybe you should go talk to him. I bet the two of you could make beautiful music together." Lilly wagged her eyebrows at Bree.

"He lives here? I didn't know that." They lived in a coed dormitory, so it didn't surprise her to know a guy lived nearby. She just didn't realize it was the same one who'd gotten her guitar back.

"Yeah. He's super nice. Every time I see him, we chat. He asked about you today. He asked me if I was your roommate and said he'd been at the soup kitchen with you that time. I asked him if he knew about your guitar getting nabbed, and he admitted he was the one who got it back. You should go talk to him. His name is Sam Fowler."

"Maybe I should." Bree looked at her phone again. If she went and talked to Sam, what would happen if Trent did call her? Maybe she should just text Trent first. What if he was waiting for her to text him? A simple, "Hey," never hurt anything.

"Or… you could keep staring at your phone and do nothing." Lilly shrugged and returned her attention to her laptop.

Her roommate was right. It was time Bree took matters into her own hands. If she had done that years ago in the high school parking lot, she wouldn't be staring at her phone now, would she?

With a deep breath, she picked up her phone, opened her contacts, and found Trent's name. "Hey, how's it going?" she asked, and set her phone down.

It seemed to take forever for him to answer but when he did, he just said, "Fine. How are you?"

"Good. Did you have a good Christmas?"

"Sure. Hey, who is this?"

Was he being serious? Did he really not know who she was? "This is Bree."

"Bree who?"

"Okay then. Never mind." Wow--so that's how he was going to play it. Frustrated, Bree tossed her phone aside and flung herself back onto her pillow.

"What's the matter?" Lilly asked.

"Nothing."

"Did you text him?"

"Yep."

"Did he answer?"

"Yep. Bree who."

"Oh. Maybe it's not his number anymore."

Fighting tears, Bree rolled her eyes. "He's had the same number since eighth grade. I'm sure it's not that. Either he's trying to be funny, or this is his way of blowing me off."

"I'm sorry, hon. Maybe you should ask him who he is."

"Yeah, that wouldn't make me look like a stalker." She rolled her eyes and got up off of the bed. Standing in front of the mirror, she wiped her eyes. It seemed stupid to cry over something she never had. With a deep breath, she picked up her guitar case and walked out into the hallway. Maybe it was time to get to know Sam after all.

"Is this seat taken?"

Trent looked up to see a beautiful blonde with long, straight hair and a gorgeous smile standing next to him, a full tray in her hands. "Uh, no." She reminded him of Bree--sort of. She wasn't quite as pretty as his friend, but the hair was similar, and she had a nice smile.

"Thanks. It's crowded in here."

Trent looked around the cafeteria. Apparently, he had picked a busy time to swing by for lunch. Normally, he had an accounting class right now, but the professor was sick. "Guess so."

She set her tray down and waved across the way at a brunette who gave her a thumbs up. "You don't mind if my friend sits here, too, do you? All the other tables are really crowded. I'm sorry--it looks like you were trying to read or something."

Dropping his phone into his jacket he assured her it was fine. "I was just on social media."

"Oh. Cool." She sat down. "I'm Heather, by the way."

"Trent. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around. Do you live in Dowdy Hall?"

"I do." It was a men's only dorm, so he wondered how she knew that.

"My ex-boyfriend lives there."

"I see. Sorry."

"I'm not." She rolled her eyes and took a bite of her sandwich before she said, "He's an asshole."

"Well, then, I'm not sorry."

She giggled. "Are you seeing anyone, Trent?"

The way she asked was a little more suggestive than he would've expected. "Uh… no." He couldn't help but feel for the phone in his pocket. He had thought a few weeks ago that maybe he would be by now. But he'd tried to call Bree and gotten no answer, and she hadn't ever called him back. He'd sent a text or two as well. It had occurred to him that maybe she'd changed her number since high school, but he wasn't sure who to ask about that, and it seemed weird to contact her on social media. She had left, after all. He'd finally kissed her, and she'd gotten in her uncle's truck and rode away. If that wasn't an answer, he didn't know what was.

Heather's smile was sweet, and he got the impression she wanted him to ask her out. Maybe he would….