Come Find Me(53)

“We met because of something we both found,” I say.

“I’m not following.”

“There was a signal,” I say. “On Elliot’s satellite dish.”

Joe blinks slowly, trying to process. “What are you talking about?”

    “The dish, pointing out at space. Here, wait.” I race to my room and fish through my backpack for the flash drive. It’s in my hand, extended toward Joe, as I walk toward him. He hasn’t moved from his spot in the hall. “Here. It’s all here. Last weekend, I pulled a signal. Only it’s coming through where no signal should be. I’ve been trying to see if I can replicate it.”

He stares at the flash drive in my hand but doesn’t take it. “Back up a second. You’ve been by the house?”

I push the flash drive at his chest again. “Joe, you’re not listening. There’s a signal. And Nolan’s been receiving it, too.”

He doesn’t answer. I wonder if he’s debating something. If he believes me. I hold the flash drive in my open palm, begging him to see.

“I know who he is, Kennedy.”

“What? Who?” My arm drops to my side.

“Nolan. Nolan Chandler. I know who he is, what happened to his family.”

“This has nothing to do with—”

“This has everything to do with this. Listen to yourself. Two people receiving a signal. Two people who—”

He stops talking, turning to face the window.

Quietly, I ask, “Two people who what, Joe?”

He fixes his eyes on me then, his jaw moving softly side to side. “Two people who have suffered a terrible loss, Kennedy. Two people who have endured something horrible, much younger than is fair. Two people who both want something desperately.”

My hand tightens on the flash drive, gripped in my closed fist. “What is it, exactly, that you think I want?”

    He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “Well, for starters, you don’t want me to sell that house.”

I shake my head. “You think I’m lying? To keep you from selling the house?”

He runs his hand through his hair and winces. “I don’t know. I’m just saying. You don’t want to sell the house, and now there’s apparently a…” He searches for the word. “A signal? From space?” He says it like it’s impossible. Incredulous. And coming from him, it suddenly sounds that way. Like everything we’ve been doing is for nothing.

“What happened to trust, Joe?” Was it just a word, an empty promise, to keep me in line?

“It has to be earned. Look, Kennedy, I believe that you believe this, I do. But—”

“Elliot could tell us what this all means. That’s why I went to see him.”

“Kennedy!” he yells. I’ve pushed him to yelling.

“Please, Joe. Please, I know you can bring this to the college. I know there are people who can read it, who can figure out if there’s something there.”

“Kennedy, you don’t know what it’s like there, at the school right now….”

I frown, confused. “What’s it like?”

“They’re reeling from…” From the loss of my mother, and Will, both professors there. From the fallout of my brother. From a student who turned a weapon against his teacher, and his mother. And where must that leave Joe? I’ve never even thought about it. What this must be like for him now.

I nod, feeling like everything is slipping from my grasp.

    Fingers shaking, I leave the flash drive on the laminate tabletop, an offering. I go to my room, to bed, but I don’t sleep. I think of Nolan, and everything he’s feeling, and how cut off from the world he must be, over there right now, alone.

“I know,” I whisper to the dark night.



* * *



—

The next morning, Joe has uncharacteristically beaten me to breakfast. He has the flash drive in his hand, twirling it between his fingers. “I will take it to a guy I know, Kennedy.”

I suck in a gasp, reaching for his arm. “Thank you, Joe. Thank you.”

He stares at my fingers on his sleeve, and he nods. His throat moves as he swallows, but he slides the flash drive into his pocket. “I will do this one thing for you. And then, after, you will do something for me.”

I step back, already leery. “What?”

“You will let the house go.”

I open my mouth, but he puts up one hand.

“Kennedy, you have to let it go.”

I tip my head in the faintest nod. If it can even be perceived as that. But once he sees the signal, he’ll believe me. Once we do the first part, he won’t demand the second. He’ll understand.

The house is important. This is important.





At school, I can finally log in to my account, ready to send Kennedy an email to apologize for last night. In the stark light of morning, I think about what I must’ve seemed like, showing up at her house unannounced, on the edge of panic, or worse.

I only know that I felt calmer as soon as I saw her, and by the time I left, this felt like a problem we would deal with together, like everything else. That is, if her uncle will ever let me near her again.