Emily gave her phone a cursory look before getting onto a bus that smelled like a wet dog.

No messages from Evan or Kelly... Time to put it away and get some homework done during the ride...

After she got off the bus, she needed to rush through the deluging rain to her after-school mother's helper job.

First, Emily sloshed through puddles to a nearby elementary school to pick up the little girl, Janine, from her Girl Scouts meeting. Then she walked the soggy seven year old home and helped with her homework until Mrs. Flynn got home from the gym and a "Mommy and Me" class she took with the baby. After that, she played with the two kids while their mother made dinner.

She didn't have time to check her phone again until she arrived back home at eight o'clock with a slightly damp forty dollars in her pocket.

Emily sat at her desk and took her phone out of her backpack. Evan had sent her "See Emily Play" by Pink Floyd. 

She listened to the song while she opened the top drawer of her desk. She took out a ragged envelope, added the two moist twenties to the stack of bills already collected there and removed a letter from beneath the pile. She unfolded it on her desk and stared at it.

The music finished and interrupted Emily's daily contemplation of the paper.

She thought about which song to send back to Evan.

It has to be The Who's "The Real Me" because I wonder if Evan can see the real me... And if he does, can he handle it?

After she pressed send, she picked up the letter once more. But before she could reread it, she heard the text alert again. Evan's response was so immediate that she realized he didn't even listen to the song first.

I think so. Come back and let me look again.

He already knew the lyrics...

Emily folded the letter and put it away with the ragged envelope of cash. Her palms were suddenly sweaty.

I already know what I have to do... It's the proper thing to call Evan and tell him my decision over the phone instead of via text... In theory this should be a quick and easy thing... But I'm dreading it...

The phone rang twice, and she wanted to hang up. But that would just delay the inevitable.

It's too late now... My name is already on his call log...

Evan picked up. "Hey. I'm glad you called!"

I'm about to ruin his good mood... This feels terrible...

She blurted, "I just called you to tell you that I'm not coming back this weekend. I have plans already." Then she rambled through her rehearsed explanation of the dance and sleepover.

Evan listened to her script and then made a determined little snort on the other end of the line. "I still have a day to change your mind."

Emily made her own little huff back at him. "Knuckleheaded knuckleballer."

He laughed and she could hear the smile come back into his voice.

"Exactly! And the first thing baseball teaches you, is that there three strikes before an out."

"Rules are rules," she agreed.

Is he talking about him or me?

She heard Evan yawn and pictured him stretching out in his bed. His voice even sounded drowsy.

"Anyway, as much as I'd like to fall asleep on the phone with you again, I have a game tomorrow and need to get to bed early tonight."

"Since I won't be getting any sleep tomorrow, I'd better rest tonight too. Sleepovers don't exactly live up to their name."

"You made me go to sleep at ours," Evan countered.

Emily giggled. "Good night Jersey."

He sighed. "Good night Brooklyn. I'll call you tomorrow."

So I guess now we'll speak every day...