If You're Out There(22)

“I hope they don’t disappoint,” says Logan. “It’s Nick, right? Nicholas Reid?”

“Um . . .” The boy regards us there. “Yes. I’m sorry. Have we met?”

“No,” I say, taking another step forward. “But I think we have a friend in common. I don’t know if Priya ever mentioned me, but I’m—”

“Zan,” he says, his face lighting up. “Of course!” He smacks his forehead with the snack bag still in hand. “I’ve seen your picture.”

“Yes,” I say, standing a little taller. No dignity left to lose. “I’m sure this is weird for you—me coming here like this. And I don’t want to put you in a bad spot or get you in trouble with Priya. But I thought maybe if I came here and spoke to you . . .” I brace myself. “Has she said why she won’t talk to me? I hate to ask. But I’m having a hard time dealing with all this. Even if it hurts, I think I really need to know the . . .” I trail off, distracted by Nick’s expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m sorry. Really. I wish I could help you. But Priya broke up with me.”

My mouth falls open. “What? When?”

“July.”

“No way. That’s not possible.”

“If it makes you feel any better, she won’t talk to me either,” says Nick.

“I—” I’m stunned. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Wow,” says Nick, pleasantly startled. “Thank you. I felt the same way.”

“Wha—” I still can’t believe it. “Did she say why?”

He scratches his head, his wispy hair gaining volume. “It was a very efficient breakup. Vague but firm. I know we hadn’t been dating that long, but I certainly thought I deserved more than an email.”

“She broke up with you over email?”

“I was in England with family, so I suppose doing it in person was off the table. A phone call would have been nice.”

“That’s so weird,” I say. “Did she seem unhappy leading up to it?”

Nick thinks for a moment. “It’s hard to say. We’d only been able to talk here and there on the phone in the days before. Tough with the time difference and all. I was actually planning to fly her out to London later that summer, once she got settled into her new place.”

“And then just like that . . .” says Logan.

Nick rubs his tired eyes. “Pretty much. For a while she wasn’t picking up her phone. I thought she was busy with the move at first, but then I started to get worried. Finally I sent her an email. She wrote back the next day and ended it.”

I can’t stop shaking my head. “This is not the Priya I know. Even if she couldn’t stand you, she’s too nice to end things that way. And, dude, she was crazy about you.”

“Yeah . . . Well, I hate to think it. But there is another possibility.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to put this delicately.” He takes a moment to meet my eyes. “Did she ever mention anyone else?”

“No,” I tell him honestly.

“Here’s the thing.” He runs a hand through his fluffy hair. “Before we split up, I sort of . . . peeked at her phone. She was in the other room and her phone dinged and I picked it up. It was wrong of me, I know that, but I was sort of . . . caught in a moment of weakness. Anyway, the contact was just an initial—J. Which I found strange. The message said, ‘Can’t wait, Priya.’ With a happy-face emoji.”

“Can’t wait for what?”

“Don’t know,” says Nick. “I never snooped like that again. I put the phone back, and hoped it was a friend of hers. But to be honest, I’d been feeling for some time that there was something she wasn’t telling me.” Nick somehow manages to look even more miserable.

“Hey. Nick,” I say. “Priya’s not a cheater.”

But as I say it, a flurry of thoughts surfaces. In the months before she left, she’d grown funny about her phone—never wanting anyone to touch it. I’m surprised she left it out that day with him. And there was that time outside the restaurant. I’d heard her laughing out back by the Dumpster, and when I walked out with the garbage, she was clutching her cell phone to her chest.

“Who was that?” I asked.

Her expression shifted suddenly, and she said, “Uh . . . Friend from Model UN.”

Nick sighs down at his Combos. “Even with my suspicions, the breakup was still a shock. I really loved her.” He opens the bag. “But if you ask me, the part about you is a bigger surprise. She always struck me as a ‘sisters before misters’–type girl.”

“Ladies before mateys,” I say reflexively.

“What?”

I wave him off. “Nothing. You were saying?”

“I guess. Well. From the way she always talked about you . . .” He frowns. “I’d already assumed she was going through something. But to cut you out . . . It must be something big.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe.”

Nick furrows his brow as he chews, perking up. “These are actually quite good. Want one?”

I decline, gently, and clear my throat. “Sorry if this is weird, but do you think you could you show me the email she sent you? I’m trying to understand.”