Page 92 of Fundamentals of Chemistry

On Saturday, I bid Silvia and Tim farewell and took the train back to Connecticut. The ride toward Newbury seemed much shorter than the ride away had felt. There was a heady feeling of anticipation at what—or who—I might find when I got back.

Jack still wasn’t responding to my texts, in spite of—or maybe because of—my needy voicemail. But Alan had agreed to pick me up from the train station. Perhaps Jack would be with him again.

I could see the scene in my mind’s eye.

The train door would open revealing Jack in a white Oxford shirt—with the top buttons undone, teasing a glimpse at his smooth chest. He would be holding a large bouquet of sunflowers and would smile his best, crooked smirk when his eyes fell on me.

I would drop my bag on the platform and run to him, jumping into his waiting arms, like a hydrogen atom drawn into a hydroxide ion. Then, he would kiss me passionately, while the other travelers cheered and wolf-whistled around us.

I would tell him I loved him, and he would tell me he loved me too.

He would wipe my tears and promise to never make me cry again.

We would live happily ever after: running around Cedar Lake, stealing kisses between classes, and laughing at each other’s bad jokes until we had side stitches.

But when the train pulled into Hampton Station, there was no one waiting for me on the platform. I found Alan sitting in his car in the parking lot, heater on full blast to fight off the winter chill.

“How was your holiday?” I asked when he pulled out onto the street.

“It was good. Quiet,” he replied, eyes on the road. “How was yours?”

“Good. It was nice to see Silvia.”

Alan hummed in response and kept his eyes on the road. Neither of us spoke for several minutes as we cruised back toward campus, skeletal brown trees whipping past us.

The silence was going to drive me insane.

“Did you see Jack over the break?”

Alan chewed on his lip but didn’t look at me. “Yeah, we hung out a bit.”

“Did he… say anything? About me?”

Alan sighed heavily. “Look, Mel, I like you a lot. But Jack’s my best friend, and I really don’t want to get in the middle of this.”

“I understand,” I said, but I couldn’t help but press. “I know he’s mad about something, but I really have no idea what. If you could tell me literally anything, I would…”

Alan gave me a hard look that was very un-Alan-like. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

Okay, so Jack definitely told him what was going on. And Alan was upset with me too. I racked my brain for the millionth time trying to figure out what I might have done, and for the millionth time, I came up empty.

“Do you think he’ll talk to me?”

Alan sighed again. “I don’t know.”

I bit my tongue to keep from screaming out my frustration, and we sat in silence for the remainder of the drive.

Chapter 28

The End?

After thanking Alan again for the lift, I carried my bag up the two flights of stairs to the quiet third floor hallway. I gave the door to number thirty-three a forlorn look before sliding my key into my own lock.

Being back somehow felt worse than being away. I was so close but also farther away than ever.

No. Fuck this. I was getting to the bottom of this mystery from hell.

I dropped my bag, spun on my heel, and strode across the hall. I knocked on Jack’s door with three sharp raps. I held my breath, listening over my thundering heartbeat for the sound of footsteps coming to the door. Silence.