“I seem to recall that climbing the wall was your idea.”
“Ouridea,” I said.
He rolled his eyes, and then he looked down at his hands. Laced them together. Quietly, to them, he said, “Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t mention—what?” I gave a start, having not prepared myself forthatof all things to come out of his mouth. I blinked at him, wide-eyed.
He scowled. “Don’t lookthatsurprised.”
“I’m not surprised,” I said, surprised.
His mouth twisted into an annoyed line.
I bumped my shoulder against his. “I’m joking with you, Rus. You’re welcome. Besides, saving you from Damnit means you owe me. Don’t think I’ll forget about that,” I added, jabbing my finger into the side of his torso.
He wiggled away from it. “Ow.Okay, fine. After you get me out, anything you want—within reason.”
“Within reason,” I agreed. “Which brings me to my next question.”
“You had a question before?”
“It’s a segue, keep up.” I pushed myself to my feet and pressed my fingertips together. “Okay, so. Here’s the good news and the bad news. Which do you want first?”
“The how-to-get-me-out news,” he answered wryly. I rolled my eyes and waited for his real answer. He sighed and threw up a hand. “Bad first, then. End on a happy note.”
“Optimist,” I said. “And here you said you were a charming pessimist.”
“Yousaid that. Bad news first is simply practical,” he explained. “Start with the problem, end with the balm for it.”
Regrettably, he had a point. What had Eula said about him?Meticulous?He really was. He leaned back on the bench railing, arms folding over his chest again, as he waited for me to explain.
“Bad news,” I started. “You’re not missing.”
“Hm?” His eyebrows scrunched. “What do you mean?No onenotices I’m gone?”
“No, I mean youactuallyaren’t missing. Eula said she talked to you the day before yesterday and Oliver is pretty confident that you’re still around—”
“Ah,Oliver,” he interrupted bitterly, “so we’re taking opinions fromhimnow.” That was almost the exact expression Oliver had on his face when I first brought up Cyrus. Childhood friends, even if they weren’t anymore, still had baggage. “Well, I guess with him here, I shouldn’t care if I’m missed at the party, right? My family doesn’t care, regardless, and my clients are probably finding new representation as we speak, which is abysmal for my career.”
But then I had an idea. “You keep talking about a party.Whatparty?”
He stared at me like I’d grown another head. “The bicentennial?”
“That’s not for another month.”
“I assure you it’s today. I met you earlier, remember?”
In a rush, I came to sit down beside him again, a chill prickling my skin into gooseflesh. Because it was suddenly coming together. How he was here and also out there. Why he wore a suit. Why he acted like heknewme in the firstmeeting—or at least knew of me. We’d met, I guess. Just not yet. “Rus, it’s still July.”
He blinked. Then sighed. “I work a lot, but I haven’t workedsomuch I don’t know what month it is, Sophie.”
“No, I promise you it’s July.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the date. But as I did, the numbers blurred.
To August 16.
“Wait—no. Iknowit’s not August. Not yet. I haven’t even finished the Grove yet, I promise,” I said quickly, turning my phone off and back on, but it still said the same date. “This is so weird.”
He watched me thoughtfully as I fumbled with my phone. “Do you also not have reception?”
