Space (Laws of Physics #2)(26)

The line cracked, buzzed, but was otherwise silent for several seconds until finally she said, “You should have told me.”

“Told you? I thought you knew.”

“No! I had no idea!”

I had to press the phone closer to my ear because her voice was quiet, and I struggled to keep my voice loud enough to be heard on her side. “How could you have no idea?”

“You never said anything! I can’t read your mind, Mona. You never say anything about how you’re doing, how you’re feeling, what you want. All you talk about is telescopes and—” she cut out again, and so I counted.

One, two, three, four, five, six—

“—we’re all going to eventually use blackholes to power settled planets in different solar systems.” She sounded exasperated. “The only time you mentioned him was that one time, when he changed his last name. I kept waiting for you to ask for his new name, but you didn’t. And then, when I tried to get you to talk about Abram, you kept changing the subject. I kept expecting you to talk to me about him, about what happened after you left, but you didn’t want to hear it and—God, honestly?—I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to make anything harder, after what you did for me. But Abram had been everywhere this year, his songs are everywhere, his face is everywhere, and still nothing from you until right now. Until he’s there, in front of you, and you have no choice but to confront it.”

Yikes.

She had a point. I’d never talked to her about Abram, or what happened the day after I’d left. I’d only told Poe about Abram because I’d been drunk—very sloppy of me—and Allyn knew nothing about my fateful trip to Chicago at all.

“Okay. Yes, it’s my fault. You’re right.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. It’s not your fault. It’s—”

Another break in the line. One, two, three, four, five, six.

“—but you have to stop pretending like you don’t have any emotions.” Her voice was steady now, louder. “If you have feelings for Abram, then tell him. Maybe he feels the same, maybe he doesn’t, maybe he’ll break your heart, maybe he’ll disappoint you, but you can’t expect him or anyone else to know what you’re thinking if you keep quiet, or if you keep denying your feelings, or pretending they don’t matter. You have to stop acting like you don’t need anyone. You have to let people care about you, and I’m not just talking about this guy, or whatever guy or person you ultimately—”

One, two, three—I thought about interrupting her, explaining that telling Abram the truth now wasn’t about hoping for a future with him, but rather giving our past closure. However, my sister was really on a roll with this rant and I doubted I’d be able to get a word in. At this point, I just wanted to get off the phone, tell Abram the truth, and finally place all this messiness behind me—four, five, six.

“—come visit me, you’re always invited. I mean it. Okay?”

“Okay. Thank you. Sounds good. I appreciate you supporting me in this decision.”

“Uh, no problem? I mean—uh—wait. Are you coming to visit me or what?”

“Sure. Yes. I can do that.”

She huffed. “When?”

I closed my eyes again, scrunching them shut tighter. “When?”

“Mona!”

“I’ll email you.”

“Fine. I’ll come to California. I’ll visit you.” It sounded like a threat.

“How about next week?”

“Next week?” I could tell I’d surprised her with the offer, but I was serious.

“Yes. Next week. I have nothing for the next two weeks but prepping my stuff for next semester in Europe, and everything is basically done. I can come next week.”

“And we’ll hang out?” She sounded so hopeful and—despite the blanket of numbness to protect me from the Abram-angstravaganza—my heart softened.

“Yes.”

“Awesome! Okay. Well.” Even with the static on the line, I heard her take a deep breath. “I guess I’ll see you next week.”

“See you next week.” I opened my eyes, sighing, nodding resolutely, and turning away from the corner to face the room.

Step one, done. Step two, after a shower!

“And good luck with Abram,” she added. “And though I’ve never believed he was actually in—”

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and so forth. I waited until the count of twenty before the line made a definitive click-off sound, followed by a beeping dial tone.

Frowning, I reselected her number, wanting to ask Lisa to finish her sentence, but also end the call the right way, with I love yous and plans to talk about my trip to see her next week. But each time I tried to dial her number again, it wouldn’t connect. Peeking out the window, seeing the blizzard-like, whiteout conditions, I understood why.

I gave up, for now. Gathering a steadying breath and placing my phone next to the letter on the side-table, I dragged myself into the bathroom to take a shower.

Soon, all of this choas would be set to order.





6





Geometric Optics





*Mona*