Page 18 of Solo

“The senator would like to have dinner with you, even if you don’t come to the event on campus.”

Even in my hazy state, I know what a bad idea that is.

“No. Absolutely not. I’m not interested in being a photo op.”

“Katherine, he wanted me to tell you that he’s arranged a private room at Villa Romano. His security team will clear the venue beforehand and no one will know you’re coming. He promises that it will be just the two of you. No photographers.”

I consider this. My father is a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. If he’s promising me privacy, he means to deliver it. The question is whether I want to have him all to myself.

“Fine,” I say at last, in exasperated defeat. “What’s the date?”

Leandra can hardly contain her surprise and excitement. “Wonderful! It’s Friday, April seventh. That’s exactly two weeks from today.”

“Tomorrow,” I correct her.

She pauses.

“No, actually, I’ve got the calendar right in front of me.”

“But today is Thursday,” I say, wanting nothing more than to stop talking. My throat feels as if I swallowed a gallon of gas and tossed a match in after it.

“No, afraid not, Katherine. Today is Friday, I’m quite certain of that.”

And then it occurs to me—I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep. I know I’ve gotten up a few times to drink something and take a few pills, but I just assumed…

“Leandra?” I ask, my voice suddenly shaky.

“Yes, Katherine?”

I’m terrified to ask the question. Terrified to know the answer. “W-what time is it?”

“Four o’clock,” she says. “On Friday.”

What? No. No, no, no!

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I say breathlessly, even as I’m disconnecting the call.

That can’t be right, can it? I scramble to bring up the main screen on my phone and there it is in big, glowing digital numbers.

4:04 p.m.

Shit!

I find the remote for my television set and scan through the channels until I find one that’s twenty-four hour news. And there it is on a banner at the bottom of the screen.

Friday, March 24th. 4:05 PM.

Oh my God!

I’ve somehow lost an entire day. The day that I was supposed to spend recopying the midterm project before getting it to Markham. I should have just turned it in the way it was yesterday, when I was feeling better. Or was that the day before yesterday?

Don’t panic, Kate.

Think, Kate.

Okay. Let’s assess. I drag myself out of bed and hobble over to the table where the sheets of manuscript paper are spread out. The project is done, it’s just a little messier than I’d like. He’ll likely ding me for that, but probably not enough to lower the grade. I scoop up the pages, fasten them together with a paperclip, and stuff them into the big envelope I’ve set aside for them. Too late to drop this on campus. Markham’s already gone for the day, so I’ll have to get it to him at home.

I take a deep breath and concentrate on slowing my heart rate. It’s okay, I’ve had to do this before and I know where he lives. I can be there in twenty minutes, if I leave right now. With no time to change, I just throw on a hoodie over the yoga pants and T-shirt I’ve been sleeping in. I look like crap, but I don’t plan on getting out of the car so it doesn’t matter. I’ll just roll right up to his mailbox, stuff the envelope in the newspaper holder, and be on my way before he even knows I was there.