“What did you guys talk about?”
He paused. “Our dad.”
Noah had mentioned his father to me only once. He had left the family when Noah was very young and moved to parts unknown, randomly contacting his sons with a card every few years. The last time his father had reached out was with a postcard, sent a week after Noah’s eleventh birthday.
“Why did Jeff want to talk about your dad?” I asked cautiously.
“Because he found Jeff.” He sighed. “He Googled him, can you believe that? Found out about Jeff being in the army and got in touch with him. Jeff was always his favorite.”
“Wow.” I wasn’t sure what to say. Noah’s voice didn’t reveal any clear emotion, but I knew he must be struggling with this new development.
“I’ll tell you something,” he said, and I could hear a fierce determination in his words. “I’ll never be that guy. I’ll never have to search for my kids on a computer, and they won’t ever have to search for me.”
“You’re not him,” I said. “You could never be like that.”
Noah didn’t respond. His silence was a sign that he was angrily mulling things over. “I could come over,” I offered. “We could hang out.”
“Sorry, I have some things to do. Thanks, though.”
It was rare for Noah to not want to get together. He was really upset, and I felt helpless. I didn’t know how to make him feel better, and I hated the idea of him sitting alone with his angry thoughts.
“Maybe later, then. I can swing by for a few—”
“No,” he interrupted. I was taken aback by the force of his refusal, but then he softened. “I appreciate the offer, Charlotte, I do. But I want to be alone, and I have a ton of work to do tonight. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Sure. Okay.”
We hung up. I remained sitting on Avery’s bed, watching Dante and twisting my bracelet around my wrist. I knew Noah wasn’t mad at me, and there was nothing I could really do for him except give him the space he needed. But he was holding back with me, not telling me what he was feeling or what he was doing, exactly.
Dante whined in his sleep and I reached over to give him a reassuring pat. “Everything’s fine,” I told him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
After all, I thought, there was no place to go. I was settling into limbo, but as long as everyone else was there with me, I would be fine.
I hoped.
four
Like any normal person, I dreaded the first day at a new school. I told myself that this time was different because it was college, but I still felt the uncomfortably familiar clenching of my stomach as I parked the car, glanced over the campus map and gathered up my purse and backpack. I was marching into unfamiliar territory. Again. When was it going to get easier? I could picture myself at eighty, pushing a metal walker across the floral carpeting of a nursing home for the first time and feeling the exact same way I did now.
Better sleep would have helped my nervous mood. I had gone to bed early the night before after spending an exasperating hour working with my secret stash of equipment. My attempts to contact something had been unsuccessful, though, so I’d given up and gone to bed, only to be awakened at two in the morning by a strange sound coming from downstairs.
I had listened to the rumbling noise for a while before figuring out that it was Shane, who could snore loud enough to drown out power tools. If Shane was spending the night on our sofa, it meant that Dad had decided to stay with Mom.
Shane had made me an omelet when I’d woken up. I’d told him about the burgundy car from the day before, and he’d listened with serious interest. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he’d promised. “You let me know if you see it again, okay?”
“Absolutely.” I’d remembered the medical bill from yesterday. “Are you working on the DVD today?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Need help?”
He’d beamed. “That would be great.”
I’d finished my breakfast and headed out for the first day of school. Now I was on campus, trying to locate the Yerian Building on a wrinkled map so I could make it on time for my first class of the day. My first college class, I mentally corrected as I hurried across the crowded walkways. It wasn’t that I was in a rush to get to English 101, but the late-August sun, combined with South Carolina’s thick humidity, was already causing my T-shirt to cling to my back. I hoped the classrooms were equipped with intense air-conditioning.
I was in luck. As soon as I pushed through the glass door of the Yerian Building, I felt air so cold I was sure the school sponsored a penguin breeding program.
The building’s lobby reminded me of a decent hotel. Clusters of beige sofas surrounded wide coffee tables and potted plants too green to be real. I pretended to look for Room 107, but in reality, I was stealthily checking out the other students.
An interesting mix of people roamed the large lobby. Silver-haired women mingled with tattooed guys. A boy about my age nodded as he talked to a man who was old enough to be his grandfather. There were more than a few pregnant women and fortysomething guys. There was no one type, I realized. Everyone was so different that everyone was normal. Including me.
My stomach began to unclench. This was good, I decided. No obnoxious frat boys, no glittery cliques. I could be whoever I wanted to be. It was a clean slate, devoid of rumors or speculation or pity.
Then I spotted a girl near the back of the lobby, gazing out the tall windows. I wouldn’t have noticed her at all, but she was dressed head to toe in sky-blue. She turned her face slightly, and I immediately recognized her.
“Bliss!” My voice echoed throughout the two-story room. A few people turned their heads, and I blushed. I strode over to the windows, trying to appear confident instead of completely mortified.
“Charlotte, hi.” Bliss fidgeted with her purse—a tiny satchel also sky-blue in color—and cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”
Bliss Reynolds and I did not share a positive history. We’d both spent the previous school year as seniors at Lincoln High School, where she’d worked hard as the school news anchor and I’d edited her stories with Noah. She viewed me as a constant threat to her position as lead anchor, while I saw her as merely annoying. When her grandfather had died in March and she was out of school for a week, I had taken over her job. It wasn’t something I’d wanted to do, but our teacher had insisted. Despite my best efforts to be mediocre, I had won rave reviews from the student body—and jealous anger from Bliss. I had thought she would never let it go, but Bliss had proved to be a better person than I’d given her credit for. After my mother’s injury, she’d stayed late every day to make sure my work got done. And when I’d returned to school two weeks later, she was nothing but nice to me. I almost missed her snarky comments. Almost.
“I’m taking classes here this year,” I told her now. It was crazy how happy I was to see a former classmate, even if it was one I didn’t get along with well.
“Me, too.” She snapped the clasp on her purse. “I was supposed to go out of state, but then my grandfather died, and my mom needs me right now. I’m helping her out and earning some credits here so they’ll transfer next semester, maybe.”
I nodded. “Same with me. Although I’ll probably be here all year.”
“Oh.” Bliss smiled hesitantly. “So, is it a long commute for you?”
“Not really. You?”
“Not at all. We live over on Woodlyn. It’s my grandfather’s house, actually.” She got a kind of faraway look in her eyes.