Page 106 of Wayfarers

What I want to say is that I feel really bad for forcing Knox into this confession. That I didn’t think the rules of this all the way through. “How do you want me to react?”

“Don’t let me put that on you.”

“No, for real,” I say. “Do you want me to be curious? Ask questions? Because I can definitely do that. Do you want me to tell you that I can’t imagine how much that sucked? Because it sounds like it did. Or do you want me to make a noncommittal sound and then share my secret, because I feel like you’ve more than earned it?”

Knox

“How about noncommittal sound followed by big secret,” I say.

“I said ‘secret,’ not ‘big secret.’”

“But you’re kinda acting like big secret.”

“Would I be prefacing a big secret with a noncommittal sound?”

“It does seem like you would be making a committal sound before the reveal of a big secret.”

“You never hear anyone talking about making a ‘committal sound.’ What would that even be?”

“Maybe like a determined grunt?”

“Do one,” Sylvie says.

“Are you stalling? See, this is why I think big secret.”

“No, I just want to hear your rendition of a committal sound. Is that so wrong?”

“Fine.” I sit forward in my seat, strain until the veins in my neck pop out and my face turns purple. “GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” I sit back in my seat while the blood drains from my head. “Happy now?”

Sylvie is laughing so hard she can’t speak. “Dude . . .” She finally composes herself. “I thought you were gonna poop your pants.”

“Well, fortunately I didn’t. But you know what I did do? I committed? Didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“Now I believe the time has come for you to make your noncommittal sound and tell me your secret.”

Sylvie sighs.

“Is that the sound?”

“The fact that you need to ask means it’s noncommittal by nature.” She sighs again and gets very quiet and her smile fades from her face. “Cal. Cal. Cal was a friend of mine. Like best friend for a long time. We were actually supposed to go on this trip together but we sorta grew apart in the days leading up and it just didn’t work out.” She stares down the road ahead. Her hands grip the wheel tightly.

“Good enough friends to be talking about in your sleep?”

“I mean, sure. Haven’t you had dreams about random people? Obviously you can have dreams about a friend.”

“Why did you two fall out?”

“I didn’t say we fell out,” Sylvie says. “That sounds so . . . combative. I said we grew apart. We embarked on different journeys. Or whatever.”

“Do y’all still talk?”

Sylvie shakes her head. “Not so much,” she murmurs.

“Never?”

“Nope.”