Page 21 of Solo

“No, why?”

“Look over there. By your mailbox.”

It’s dark now, but I follow the trajectory of his pointing finger and I can just make out the shape of a snow-covered vehicle.

“Huh, I don’t know whose car that is,” I mumble. “You know what? I’ll bet one of the neighbors wanted to move it so they can plow their driveway,” I offer up as a possible excuse.

“Nah, I don’t think so. Look at all that snow, it’s been there for a while. And—”

Joe stops short and cranes his head forward a little trying to get a better look from where we’re standing down the street.

“What?” I ask, suddenly feeling uneasy.

“Drew, I think there might be somebody inside that car.”

Chapter Nine

Kate

When the rap comes on the window, I’m so deep in a distorted dream that the sudden, sharp sound makes me sit bolt upright, breathing hard. Even through the cover of snow that’s accumulated on the windshield, I can see that it’s dark outside now. What? How long have I been asleep? My eyes fly to the dashboard clock. Just over an hour. I take a deep breath and turn slowly, reluctantly to my left, afraid of who might be standing there.

I’m right to be afraid.

Dr. Markham is wearing a huge navy blue parka and snow boots and he’s motioning for me to roll down my window.

“Miss Brenner,” he says before I can even explain my presence. “Why are you sitting in front of my mailbox in your car…sleeping?”

“I-I, uh…”

He raises an irritated brow over one of his dark-brown eyes and I try to pull myself together.

“I’m sorry. I dropped off my paper and now I’m stuck in the snow.”

He seems confused for a second.

“You didn’t check your email, did you?”

It’s a question, but it sounds more like a pronouncement of judgment.

“Email?” I have no clue what he’s talking about.

“Miss Brenner, the university closed today in advance of the storm. I sent out an email last night extending the deadline until our next class.”

I stare at him, mouth agape. If I’d only taken two minutes to check my email, I could be home in a warm bed right now, instead of stuck in the snow in front of this jerk’s house.

“No,” I say in a near whisper. “No sir, I’ve been sick the last couple of days. I wasn’t in classes yesterday…or today—I mean, I thought today was yesterday and I didn’t go to classes. And then, when I woke up, it was today. Like, an hour ago. I was too sick to even look…I just got out of bed long enough to drive my assignment up here.”

He considers me for a long beat without comment before squatting down to look under the vehicle. Then, he stands up again.

“Yeah, it looks like you might be stuck in an ice rut. Go ahead and start the ignition, I’ll see if I can give you a push out of it,” he says, leaving to walk around to the back of the car. I do as he asks and put the Corolla into gear. When I feel him pushing his weight against the trunk, I press the accelerator, hoping to catch enough traction to pull out. But the tires just spin and whine against the slick surface.

“Again,” he calls out from behind me. I accelerate with the same results.

Finally, he comes back around to my window, breathing heavier and looking less than thrilled. “I’m afraid you’re good and stuck, Miss Brenner,” he says flatly. I watch as he looks off into the distance then sighs deeply before refocusing on me.

“Come on, you’d better come inside before the temperature really starts to drop.”

Uh-uh. No way.