four

Jordan’s phone vibrated. It was a text from Connor, his best friend back home.

Hey, Jord. Been thinking of you today, it’s almost fall break. Hang on til then

Connor had never been one for displays of emotion. Jordan knew he ought to be grateful for the words that were meant to be encouraging, but he only stared at his phone blankly before turning it over, face-down, on his desk.

“It’s called ‘Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy.’  I hope you don’t mind.” Jordan could hear Olivia’s voice in her mind, just as clearly as if she were reading her letter out loud to him.

Mind what, Olivia? That you named our book after it? The book that’s supposed to be about how much we love each other? You hope I don’t mind that your heart’s too big? No matter how many jokes you make about it enabling you to love me more, in the end, it’s not funny, and it’s not anything to write a poem about.

If Jordan had wanted to take up Ashton on her offer to help with poetry, he would not have asked for help in writing a poem. He’d have asked for help in figuring out a better title than some heart disease. It didn’t matter that that was what Olivia had titled it. What mattered was that it was such a callous thing to title a book that was supposed to be all about their love, their eternal love, the one thing that had convinced Jordan to give up his dream college and enroll in a college that nobody had ever even heard of. And now, what was it for?

But, no. He didn’t regret spending that last year as close to Olivia as possible. Maybe it had delayed his dreams or a year, but he didn’t regret it. Olivia had been worth it.

The End

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