Chapter 36
Ten minutes later, the four of us gather in the Forgotten Lounge as Lionel launches the software from his computer, pulling up our progress.
Sumner and I double-check Salvon’s work, determining there’s an important difference in the diameter of the induction coil which—when operated at the right acceleration—results in producing an energetic frequency capable of interacting with the aurora.
It seems promising. From the look on Sumner’s face, he also believes it seems promising, but it doesn’t stop me from holding my breath as Lionel feeds the software this new information.
We wait. No one speaks. William folds his hands together and presses his lips to his fingertips. Sumner’s gripping the back of the couch so tightly his knuckles turn white.
And then, instead of the usual grating error buzz, a delicate trill. Lionel’s hands fly away from the keyboard.
“Holy shit,” he breathes. “It works.”
Elation soars through me, but I don’t get ahead of myself. Because we still need to physically replicate the digital isoborometer’s engine to an exact science.
We spend the rest of break trying to do just that.
Lionel finds the proper size gears in town and William correctly determines we’d underestimated how much copper wiring we need.
This leads me to catching Mr. Lombardi unlocking his classroom Sunday afternoon and, after shoving Sumner in front of me, I exclaim, “I can’t believe you think Socrates was the first to calculate the tilt of Earth’s axis. ”
Sumner’s brows furrow as Mr. Lombardi turns to him. “Actually, Mr. Winchel, you’re thinking of Eratosthenes, who is in fact remarkable in his own right—”
It gives me more than enough time to slip in and out of his classroom with a surplus of wiring. When Sumner rejoins us in the lounge half an hour later, an amused smile plays on his lips.
“Suppose I deserved that,” he says. “Though it’s insulting you think I’m not aware of the important distinctions between ancient Greek scholars.”
We haven’t talked about our fight, pouring focus into the one thing we can control.
It doesn’t stop me from noticing him. How he moves closer when offering suggestions.
How he supports William’s observations. The way he hooks his thumb under his chin and taps the side of his cheekbone with a crooked index finger when he’s deep in thought.
We’re so close, but no one dares to speak this into existence.
Even Lionel reins in his usual optimism.
By Sunday night, with six days until the gala, I wonder if we stand a chance.
Back in my room, I pick up my phone to text Analiese.
Maybe it was a mistake not to let her in from the beginning, but then a thought occurs to me.
I’d made the decision to keep William’s truth from her knowing I was breaking rules and going against authority, and I did it to protect him.
Instead of turning to her, I’d trusted Sumner.
Because, despite our turbulent history, I knew he’d believe me.
And maybe I didn’t trust Analiese would do the same.
I lower my hand, putting the phone down.
It’s more than that, though. Hadn’t I told Jared I was questioning what I wanted?
I’d been honest with Mads. I’ve spent so long solving this weird and unexplainable mystery that I’ve inescapably fallen in love with researching the wide unknowns.
I’m more like my father than I realized, and if I was bold enough to do all that, then maybe I can place trust in my next choices.
So I act on it.
At our meeting on Monday, I tell Mrs. Vidar-Tett I’m going to apply to UMich and allow myself to believe my future is full of wide possibilities.
The next day, I text Analiese and say we should talk.
When she doesn’t respond, I send her a voice note explaining the William dilemma from the beginning.
And before I meet everyone in the Forgotten Lounge on Friday, where I’m intent on finally confronting Sumner, I make the most important call.
My mom picks up on the first ring. “Delaney.” Her tone is soothing and honey-sweet. “How is my favorite child?”
I pause outside of an empty classroom. “Mom, it doesn’t count when you say we’re all your favorites.”
“Even if it’s the truth?”
I bite back a smile. “It’s really good to hear your voice.”
“You won’t believe how much I’ve missed hearing yours,” she says. “You usually don’t call this late. Are you okay?”
I adjust the phone to my other ear. I could mask it, let her believe I’m okay because it’s a familiar pattern.
Slotting myself in places carved from expectation, molding into the person others want.
It’s how I’d become Analiese’s sidekick.
Jared’s quiet younger sister. Ellerby’s star scholarship student.
My father’s observer. My mother’s problem-less child.
Not all of those are bad, but it’s time I defined myself on my own terms.
So I say, “I need to tell you something.”
And before I lose my nerve, I admit everything.
How I never enrolled in anatomy and physiology, purposefully skipping the exam over the summer even though I told her I’d taken it.
I tell her premed isn’t my future and how guilty it makes me feel because I know it’s what they wanted for me.
I confess I’m applying to UMich’s physics program instead.
I even tell her about the pain surrounding my period, how it’s detrimentally affecting me, and how I want to get to the bottom of it but don’t know how.
And then I tell her I miss Dad so much I don’t think the ache in my heart will ever go away, and maybe that’s what scares me the most.
“Oh, Delaney,” she says when I finish. “I’m so sorry.”
It’s not what I expect her to say. Emotion catches in my throat. “You’re not mad?”
“Of course not,” she emphasizes. “Your dad and I always wanted what’s best for you, but only you know what that looks like. This is your life, sweetheart. You’re in the driver’s seat.”
A knot inside me loosens. “It felt simpler to do what you wanted,” I admit. “I was so afraid of getting it wrong.”
“That may have been our fault. Mads and Jared always knew what they liked and wanted to go after, but you were a bit of a mystery. Our encouragement might have been overbearing. You have to know, no matter what you decide, he would have been so proud of you. Not many people are brave enough to chase the things they want most in this world.”
And I hear it. The pride in her voice.
“And I’m always here for you. I hope you know that, but we can find someone for you to talk to,” she goes on.
“As for your pain, let me do some research—maybe get some referrals. We can find out what’s going on, okay?
And if the first doctor we see isn’t helpful, we’ll move on to the next.
Maybe I can even get you an appointment when you’re home for the holidays. ”
A swell of gratitude rises in me. “Thank you.”
She tells me she’ll see me at the gala tomorrow. For a fleeting moment, I allow myself to believe everything will be okay.
It’s only after we’ve said goodbye, when my thumb taps to end the call, that I realize my dad’s ring is no longer there.