The Mortal Heart(8)

“You mean, like, Salem stuff? Witch trials?” A strange expression passed over Marian’s face. “For your ABS paper?”

“Exactly. He solved the translation problem I’ve been stuck on for a week. He’s an intellectual genius, and different from anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“Intellectual genius? Hello? I’m right here.” Marian pretended to pout. “Okay, fine. What project, which hypothetical someone, and when can I administer the appropriate best friend interrogation?”

Lila smiled. “The Lux. And you’ll meet him. Today, in fact. For lunch. Plenty of time to give your approval before our first kiss, which sadly has yet to happen.” She flopped back on the futon with a groan.

Marian held up her toothbrush, laughing. “So if you aren’t kissing, what are the two of you doing? Just going over old documents together?”

Lila covered her eyes, embarrassed. “Sometimes our shoulders touch.”

“What time is lunch? I have a shift at two.”

“Crap.” Lila sat up again, checking her mother-of-pearl watch. “Crap. Crap. Crap. I said we’d meet him in twenty minutes.” She was out of bed in a flash, which meant something she wasn’t ready to admit.

This was serious.





Lila Jane saw Macon across the crowded tables at Q Shack, which was crawling with Duke students. She and Marian were already at a table, and she elbowed her best friend, who had her back to the door. “He’s here. Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Marian said, giving her a strange look. “But if you want to talk about who’s nervous—”

“It’s just that he’s so—him. And you’re so you. And I want you both to like each other so much.”

Marian smiled, grabbing Lila Jane by the arm. “Relax. If you like him, I’m going to like him.”

“Promise?” Lila Jane reached around Marian’s neck and squeezed her in a best-friends-forever sort of way.

“Promise,” Marian said. “With the small caveat that if you choke me to death, I won’t get to meet him at all.”

Lila Jane smiled and relaxed just as Macon made it to the table. “There you are,” he said, taking off his coat. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find the place. I’m afraid I don’t actually get out all that—”

Marian looked up at Macon towering over them, and he abruptly stopped talking and taking off his coat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, then turned to Lila Jane without waiting for his answer. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“No.” He took a step back. “Of course not.”

“Wait—you know each other?” Lila Jane pushed back her chair, scraping the floor. She shook her head. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Yes, please do,” Marian said, her eyes fixed on Macon.

“I can explain,” Macon said. “It’s nothing. Harmless. A flirtation.”

“A what?” Lila Jane looked like he’d slapped her. “What are you saying?”

Marian shook her head. “No, Macon—what are you thinking?” She stood up, grabbing Lila Jane by the arm. “Listen to me. You have to stay away from him. Macon Ravenwood is the kind of trouble you know nothing about.”

“Clearly,” Lila Jane said, yanking her arm away. “But it seems like you know all about him. You two had a thing, didn’t you? And now it’s awkward, and I’m in the middle of all of it?” She grabbed her bag. “Don’t let a harmless flirtation like me get in the way.”

“Jane,” Macon began. “Please.”

“It’s not what you think,” Marian said.

But Lila Jane Evers was out the door before either of them could tell her anything worse than what she already thought she knew.





Marian finally found Lila Jane, on the top floor, in the most remote stacks at Perkins, surrounded by a pile of ancient, open books. She had a finger in one book to hold her place, a glove in a second, and a sock in another.

This was her safe space.

Marian sat on the floor next to her best friend and leaned against the wall of books behind them. “Memoirs? What is it with you and memoirs?”

Lila Jane shrugged, closing the book in her lap. “It must be daunting to work out your own story. Lord knows, I never have. And this week wasn’t a step in the right direction.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Mare.”