Just the image of his name on her phone is enough to make her smile. Every time her phone vibrates, she knows—or hopes, but the feeling is so deep inside of her that it feels like knowledge, like a fact would — that it is him sending her a message. A how are you? or one of the silly inside jokes that they have begun to cultivate.
His name, in the blocky text font. Her hand tremble with a delighted urgency to press the buttom and read it. She smiles at the screen and wonders where he is, and how he is thinking of her.
She turns up music loud enough to rattle the walls— thank God her parents aren't home — and she dances like a maniac. She dances off her anxieties and her worries, she even laughs at herself. Her life is going to be okay, no matter how this turns out. You only live once, she sings, so you better make the best of it.