The phone was ringing.

I bet if there was a study done, they would find a relationship between high levels of anxiety and amount of time talking on the phone.

Well, it wasn't technically ringing. Phones didn't really ring anymore, did they? They chirped or chimed or played whatever Taylor Swift song was currently popular. Maya's phone was on vibrate. Because Maya was in the middle of class. The noise wasn't loud, but she could tell that the professor had noticed. Stealthily, Maya's hand moved toward her bag. All of her classmates were graciously pretending that they didn't notice any sound. And they shouldn't really have heard any. Normal phones on vibrate didn't sound like chainsaws.

Maya turned the sound off and checked the screen.

Lucas.

It seemed as though she had failed. Finally, she had gotten him to text her, most of the time. Their junior year of high school, he had basically turned into an old man, mostly due to Mr. Matthew's influence. Always insisted on calling people. Said that people didn't talk like they used to because of phones and Facebook and Twitter. Maya had gotten fed up with it and struck up a deal. He could call her, but only if he wanted to have a real conversation. No calling to say that he was on his way or ask if she was having a good day.

So either this was about something urgent, or he had broken the rule. Because they always had their most real conversations at night.

Maya's heart started beating faster.

Maybe it was Katy.

She picked up her bag and walked out of class. She didn't even care. She called Lucas back right away. "Is something wrong?" Maya asked as soon as he picked up.

"No."

Maya leaned against the wall outside the classroom, her bag dangling to the floor. "You idiot. I was in class."

He didn't have to ask why she might think something might have been wrong. He knew. But they would go on. Normalcy was her stage, and one that she desperately needed.

"The class with the pervey professor? The one obsessed with naked people art?

Maya laughed. "It was just getting good. We're studying the David statue."

"So hot."

"Go back to Brokeback Mountain, cowboy."

"Give it a rest, bedbug."

It felt good. The rhythm of the conversation. Always steady, always light.

"So why'd you call?"

Silence.

"I have to talk to you about something."

"Now?"

"In person."

"And you couldn't text me to tell me this?"

Silence.

Too many silences. Maya wished she could see his face right now, so that she could decipher the sort of silence this was.

"Lucas, what's going on?"

He sighed. "Don't worry. I just wanted to call you this time. Are you free tonight? Can I come over?"

Don't worry is the worst thing to say to someone to get them to stop worrying. "Sure," Maya said.

But he could hear the anxiousness in her voice. "Relax. Go enjoy your art porn," he said.

Nope. She was not relaxed. She wouldn't be relaxed right now if she was getting a massage on a beach while a puppy played with a bunny nearby.

"OK. I'll see you tonight."

"Yes, ma'am."