Chapter 14
When I get back from winter break, I realize there was a wrench in Nova’s thought process.
For the first three weeks of January, I’ll be alone behind enemy lines.
Willa decided to stay home for J-term and spend time with her pup, Brigitte, who she misses terribly.
Nova’s mom invited her to come on her European press tour.
But I knew I wouldn’t want to be home that long—and I was right.
My Christmas went just about as well as my Thanksgiving, though my mom did say she enjoyed the photos I put up on the wall.
She even bought me some frames in varying shades of blue.
We went to the hardware store before the New Year and chose a nice crisp white to paint the walls before hanging them up.
A blank slate. A new start. It actually looks pretty nice.
Still, I was relieved to get back to campus as soon as it reopened.
I signed up for a three-week one-credit class called Shipwrecked: An Introduction to Maritime Archeology.
I’m actually super psyched about it—so psyched that it doesn’t occur to me during that first night alone in my room, or the following morning, or during my three-hour class, that neither of my best friends are here. It isn’t until I walk into the half-full cafeteria that the truth hits.
I’m on my own.
Oh, there are familiar faces of course. I spy Logan and Grant with some guys from their teams. Nox will undoubtedly join them soon.
That’s where I go half the time I’m in the cafeteria, but it feels wrong without Nova.
She’s sort of the linchpin to that connection.
I’m not sure they’d want me over there on my own.
Across the other way, I see Katie and Annabelle with a few other girls from our dorm.
I make a beeline before the guys notice me, but as soon as I sit down, I realize something is off.
It takes a few minutes to understand why.
I’m not really friends with these girls.
Willa is. Without her, I’m not entirely sure what to say or how to act.
She’s the social one, the outgoing one. I’m just the beneficiary of her kindness.
Whenever I’m around, she always knows how to pull me into the conversation, to keep me involved.
I don’t really know how to insert myself on my own.
So instead, I smile politely. I mimic the reactions of the girls around me, part of the table, yet not.
I eat quietly, and the second I’m done, I sneak away without anyone really noticing I’m gone.
Three days pass in pretty much the same way.
On Tuesday, Logan waves when he sees me scoping out the tables, but I just smile, then make my way over to the girls.
On Wednesday, Grant is behind me in the checkout line and invites me to go sit, but I politely decline.
On Thursday, Nox’s glare practically burns a hole in my parka the second I step through the double glass doors, so I keep my head buried in a book and opt for takeout instead.
By Friday, I’m pretty much resigned to my fate, until I hear someone call my name after class.
“Clara! Hey, Clara!”
I spin. A slightly familiar-looking boy with curly brown hair and a friendly smile is waving me down. I wait for him to catch up, cocking my head to the side. He reads my confusion, his dark eyes warm.
“Evan,” he says, extending his hand in introduction. “We met once before. I’m one of the student heads of the Ocean Conservation Club.”
“Oh, right!” He’s a senior. I remember seeing him around some of the department lectures, too.
“Professor Carson asked me to review the freshman intake forms for the study abroad program. I saw that you submitted one.”
My lungs contract. I know exactly what form he’s talking about because I spent half of my Christmas break typing, deleting, retyping, and redeleting everything I wanted to say.
As the department head, Professor Carson is solely responsible for deciding who will get the two junior-year study abroad spots for my class.
According to the email she sent out, the intake form was just to gauge interest before the real application process next year, but I still agonized over every word. “You work for her?”
“Yeah, in her lab,” he explains, matching my stride as we traverse the snow-covered campus paths. “I did the exchange program last year.”
“You did!?” I practically squeal. It’s mildly embarrassing.
To my immense gratitude, he laughs it off. “So my hunch that you might have some questions was right?”
“Yes!”
I bombard him all the way to the cafeteria, expecting he’ll make a quick exit the second I pull open the glass doors, but to my surprise, he follows me inside.
The juniors and seniors have their own food hall closer to their dorms, but it’s more of an unwritten thing.
We part ways to order food, and my salad is ready first, so I grab an open table by the checkout where he’ll easily spot me.
A minute later, I sense a presence and look up.
“So what— Oh. Hey.”
Correction. There are three presences, and they all look especially gigantic looming over my little seat with their big muscled arms and probing expressions.
“Are you ignoring us on purpose?” Logan asks, squinting at me. “Did Nova tell you to do that?”
No, she didn’t, but I should’ve known it would needle him. Idiot. “No, I—”
“Is this about the snowball fight?” he asks, still trying to gauge my reaction. “Because we were just messing around. We didn’t think you guys would actually get upset.”
“We aren’t,” I answer quickly—a bit too quickly.
He shifts his expression, suddenly aware.
A flush rises slowly up my neck from the intensity of their stares.
I may as well hold up the text thread on my phone titled Operation Payback.
Lying really isn’t my forte. “We’re good.
” I try to cover my tracks. “We’re even. ”
Nox snorts.
“You are pissed.” Logan grins, his emotional response to pretty much anything. “I knew it!”
Shit! “We’re not. Really, we’re not. I just—”
“Clara?”
I spin with a gulp, more relieved than Evan will ever realize that he chose this exact moment to interrupt. “Hey. Hi! Sit, please. They’re just leaving.”
“We are?” Logan asks, tone far too curious.
I resist the urge to turn around and glare.
Grant comes to my rescue. “Let’s go, guys.”
Instead of footsteps, I hear a plastic tray slap down on the table behind me. I glance over my shoulder, but Nox keeps his eyes on his food. The jerk. Logan rolls his lips into his mouth, fighting a laugh as he takes a seat. Grant at least looks apologetic.
I present the three of them with my back.
“So, where were we?” I ask Evan. “Oh! The research facility on the reef!”
Evan continues where we left off, telling me about the classes he took, the labs he worked in, the trips they made to various research locations all along the eastern coast of Australia. I’m so fascinated, it’s almost easy to ignore the three boys eavesdropping behind me.
Almost.
If not for the little pinprick of awareness needling the back of my neck, I’d forget they were there. But their presence comes roaring back the moment Evan vacates the table after having invited me on a tour of Professor Carson’s lab.
“Is that a euphemism for something?” Logan interjects just as I’m starting to stand. “Because it sounded dirty to me. Inviting you to the lab. Did that sound dirty to anyone else?”
“Professor Carson is the head of our department,” I answer with a sigh, reluctantly releasing my tray as I sit back down to face the onslaught. There’s no getting out of this unless I run, and I won’t give them the satisfaction. “Her lab is legendary. He’s just being nice.”
“Eh. I don’t know.” Logan scrunches up his face. “He’s going to show you his specimens? Really?”
“From Australia!”
“He wants in your pants,” Logan announces.
“Oh my god. He does not.” I drop my forehead into my palm. “Not everything is about that, Logan.”
“You’re right,” he agrees. “Not everything is about that. But this is. The guy wants in your pants.”
I sink farther into the tabletop, wishing it would swallow me whole.
“It’s okay,” he consoles. “You’re hot. Embrace it.”
Kill me now.
I turn to Grant for support. He’s usually the nice one. But he shrugs and nods at Logan. “He’s right.”
Without thinking, I look to Nox. He’s staring at me without an ounce of humor on his face, something inscrutable in his eyes. “You’re skipping the pool.”
It’s a statement, not a question. I run a quick calculation, realizing he’s right. Tomorrow is Saturday. Evan invited me to the lab at nine. I won’t have time to swim first. Heat blazes up my chest, but I smother it, feigning indifference with a shrug. “It’s one week.”
His nostrils flare.
I stand abruptly and grab my tray, needing to escape this pressure cooker. “See you guys later.”
My phone pings the second I step outside. It’s from Nova.
YOU HAVE A DATE TOMORROW?! And I had to hear it from LOGAN!!!!!
I glare through the glass, catching the hockey player snickering into his phone. Nox, at least, isn’t laughing. But his stormy expression puts the fire under my feet. Lightning practically crackles between us and I hightail it out of there, needing the escape.
Evan does, in fact, show me the lab the next day. And he keeps it extremely professional, so ha! Marine biology nerds unite. Not everything is about sex.
Except maybe it is.