"He didn't say anything to you?" Mel whispered.
I opened my mouth but only shook my head.
"Apparently," she said, "Dart is spending this semester operating a YMCA-type place somewhere overseas. Lilah didn't tell me where Henry went, but she kept talking about some castle and Switzerland. That sounds like a place he would go." She shrugged. "All I know is the house across the street has new tenants this semester. They're gone."
I tried to remain calm, tried to not show that it felt like I'd just been slapped. What I was going to tell Alex tonight, and what I'd hoped to tell Henry five minutes after that … It was all for nothing now. I took a deep breath, needing to collect myself. There would be a later time and place to process what that meant to me. Right now, there was a greater problem at hand.
"Jules?" I said, slowly approaching her.
She lifted her head and stared up with blank eyes, strands of red hair tangling in her tears.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
Her eyes searched my face for answers. But I had none.
"I'm so sorry." I lowered myself beside her and slid an arm around her trembling shoulders. She leaned her head against me and quietly sobbed, while I stared at the wall, trying to remember what it had been like before my feelings changed, wondering why my chest felt like it had been hollowed out with a spoon.
Part III
Spring
"They're certainly entitled to think that, and they're entitled to full respect for their opinions … but before I can live with other folks I've got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn't abide by majority rule is a person's conscience."
From To Kill a Mockingbird
Chapter 18
"Spring. A word?"
I stood in place, my backpack hanging off one shoulder. "Shh"-I choked on my own tongue-"Sure, Professor Masen." I smiled as brightly as possible while walking with dread toward the front of the emptying classroom.
He sat at his desk, doing the chin rub. "We're three months into the new semester. You've canceled our last two appointments and missed a deadline."
"Oh, uh, I know. I'm … " I was about to say I was going through a personal crisis, but how lame was that? And I couldn't very well tell him the truth-that I'd lost interest in writing my thesis. Not something you should admit to your advisor.
Despite the skipped appointments and deadlines, I was hoping Masen hadn't noticed. But evidently, I wasn't that lucky.
For the past few months, I'd been having trouble concentrating. Things weren't coming as easily as they should, and every single one of my professors had it in for me-I could tell. I didn't know how I'd managed to get so far behind, which subsequently added to the stress. One minute I was in full-blown panic mode, and the next, I couldn't be more indifferent. Either way, I was not being productive.
Masen cleared his throat. "You've been … what?" he asked, attempting to finish my unfinished sentence.
"I've been … really busy in my other classes," I fudged. "Anthropology is kicking my ass."
He read something on his computer screen that I couldn't see. "You're taking a really full load again this semester, but it isn't too late to drop a class."
"Drop a … "
"You only need fifteen units to keep your scholarships."
"I can't drop a class," I blurted, indignant at the very suggestion.
My professor gazed up at me and leaned back, his ancient chair squeaking. "Then I suggest you fix whatever is broken," he said. "Time is running out."
"I know, and I will," I promised, even though I had no idea how to repair what was wrong with me. I couldn't even name it. I was afraid if I fed my symptoms into WebMD, it would spit out that I had a broken heart.
…
I usually didn't get car sick, but this particular stretch of highway on the way up to Washington was twisty and turny like a roller coaster. I half expected to look over and see Mel with her hands off the steering wheel like we were taking a corkscrew at Six Flags.
"Mel," I said, my right hand holding onto the grip above the door while my left pressed against my churning stomach, "I swear to you, if we hit an on-coming truck and actually live to tell about it, I'll run you over."
She took a hand off the wheel to tilt her white sunglasses, but she didn't slow down.
"Why are you in such a hurry? Spring break is a full seven days."
"Thought you were in a rush to get out of dodge," she said, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. "If I may quote you." She cleared her throat. "‘I will go anywhere, to the world's end, with you, Mel.' That was two days ago. Changed your mine already? How fickle."
She let her foot off the gas and we slowed way down. The car behind us honked.
I glanced through the rear window. "I'd just like to arrive in one piece." The car was now tailing us. It honked again as we continued to decelerate. "Mel, have you ever heard of road rage? It'll be bad enough if we splat into a tree, but to get shot, too?"
"Overkill?"
"Ya think?"
Mel laughed and floored it, the tires of her Jetta squealing against the concrete.
She'd been inviting me up to her grandparents' house for years. I'd always turned her down, due to papers and projects and protests. But this time, I was more than happy to take her up on it, even though picking up and leaving for a week when I should've been catching up on homework was not the most industrious of decisions. But I'd done it anyway.
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. When I opened them again, a mile-marker sign whizzed by. We were somewhere in the middle of our journey. Three hundred more miles to Vancouver, Washington.
Yes, this little vacation was just what the doctor ordered, if that doctor was of the philosophy of running away from your problems. I needed space, I needed to clear my head, and I needed to get back on track. Somehow, somewhere, I'd fallen off course. When I'd made the big change the last time, I'd switched majors, braided my hair, and figuratively burned my bra. I had no idea how to deal now.
I swallowed down the pukey mass bubbling up my throat. "Are we there yet?" I whined.
"We're stopping in a sec. I'm in desperate need of sustenance-more specifically, a candy bar."
"What happened to the one you brought with you?"
Mel's brow furrowed. She reached back to the floor behind her seat, pulled a plastic shopping bag forward, and sat it on her lap. She sifted through it, keeping one hand on the wheel.
"Huh, I could've sworn … " She lifted her sunglasses so she could see into the bag more clearly. "I had two, actually," she mumbled, bemused. "There're only wrappers now. Didn't … Wasn't … Ohhh." She let out her breath, smiled in extreme relief then went back to looking glum.
I stared at her for a moment, absolutely befuddled, until I realized how Mel's train of thought was just plain impossible to follow sometimes. "Uh, yeah, what's going on over there?" I asked, tracing circles in the air around her face.
"I just realized I had one of my daze-outs."
"Daze-outs?" I echoed, wondering if I should make her pull over so I could drive.
"Yes, I've recently raised a new theory about me and junk food."
"Ahhh. I'm all ears."
"It's quite simple, really. Someone offers me chocolate cake or donuts or something, I kind of black out, then come to and I'm covered in crumbs and feel like I want to barf, and yet I have no recollection of eating anything. It's the strangest thing. We've been on the road for four hours and I've already scarfed two candy bars, Spring. I don't even know what kind they were, but they were good, I think. Like I said, I don't remember."
"You should write this up for The New England Journal of Medicine, get that publication you've been after."
"Don't make fun of me; I'm dead serious. Have you seen how much weight I've gained? Six pounds since summer."
"No!" I gasped mockingly. Mel had a fabulous body. "Don't feel too badly. I've gained four."
"Really? You don't show it."
"I have my own theory about that."
"Listening," she said, accelerating to pass an RV.
"Well, you know that I'm a huge fan of the invention of the light bulb, yes? And no one loves the second gen iPad more than me."
"Keep talking."
"But I am convinced that the greatest invention of our time is the lowrise, dark denim, bootcut jean. Hides absolutely everything."
"Oh, babe, you are so right. Cheers to that." She held up a can of Diet Coke, toasting herself.