Noah: I’ve been better. Mercer is struggling.
Noah: Hell, who am I trying to fool? We’re both struggling. We’re wrecked. We just want to talk. To explain. To apologize and to do whatever’s necessary to right the course we’re on.
Noah: I’m worried about you.
Noah: I miss you every second of every day.
Noah: Come back to me,
honey. I promise we can make this right.
Date: Nov. 15, 11:30 a.m.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Check-In Required
Ms. Davvies,
It’s been two weeks without communication. I have confirmed with your adviser that you are attending your graduate classes and on track with your studies.
The lack of communication regarding your assistantship responsibilities is concerning, as well as your absence in class all week. As it stands, I will not be notifying the dean or the registrar of any of it.
But know that your absence is a hollow, hopeless midnight that the dawn can’t seem to break.
Your silence is an answer I’m not willing to accept.
Even if I’ve ruined everything, I’d still like to hear from you.
Take care,
Professor Mercer Eden
PS—Even if you never utter another word to me, please reply to Noah. He misses you. He doesn’t deserve to have to miss anyone else.
Chapter fifteen
Sawyer
My feet are heavy as I force myself through the back entrance of the arena, each step taking far more energy than it should.
Ty won’t be here. Atty confirmed that he hasn’t been cleared to attend practice or classes yet when we had dinner together last night. Ty hasn’t left their room in days. I’m not worried about Mercer or Noah showing up here either.
But now I fear there will be questions.
Lots and lots of questions.
I haven’t worked in two weeks. Cam took me off the schedule, and I’ve successfully avoided my coworkers until now.
As I enter the lobby, the familiarity of it lifts some of my unease. The smell of fresh ice and griddled hot dogs infiltrates my senses. The whistles from inside the rink and the sound of the Zamboni humming are parts of a soundtrack I’ve heard thousands of times. Several students hang out around the fireplace, studying and scrolling on their phones.
Smiling for the first time in two weeks—even if it’s only to myself—I head toward the skate rental counter.
As I circle toward the time clock, Arjun pops up, startling me.
“Sawy! You’re back!” He throws his arms around me, sending me stumbling back a step.
