Page 118 of Under Story

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Eli’s entropy device now works in under five minutes. Laurel orders pizza to celebrate. While they wait for it to arrive, she sits in the bedroom with her laptop, sorting through open tabs. The last one is Google Hangouts. Her only contact is luckylouis, and the dot by his name is finally green.

Louis???

His profile picture is a caterpillar. A dialogue box appears beside it.

who, it reads, ru?

It’s Laurel, she writes. From McMurdo.

Minutes pass. Laurel imagines what Louis might be doing. Talking to someone in the lounge? Asking for more computer time? Maybe he’s wandered off, leaving Google Hangouts open.

i see.

Laurel frowns. She thought he’d be happier to hear from her.

Do you remember me?

obviously

Twice Laurel starts a sentence and deletes it. Finally, she sends, Is something wrong?

Another pause. From the first floor, Eli bellows, “Don’t forget to ask for those little cheese packets.”

“I didn’t,” Laurel screams. A timeless marriage ritual, she’s certain, is hollering up and down stairs.

Not that she and Eli are married.

When she returns to Google Hangouts, luckylouis has replied.

u said u wouldn’t forget me.

Stung, Laurel types quickly: I didn’t.

it’s been—a beat, as though Louis is calculating—5 years.

Laurel does the math. He’s right. Her guilt mingles with indignation: Louis doesn’t know what her life has been like since McMurdo.

To be fair, she writes, I haven’t heard from you, either.

i don’t know where u live, types Louis. but u said that u’d write me a letter.

Laurel sits back.

Oh, Louis, she types. You’re right. I’m sorry.

Nita hadn’t been offended by Laurel’s lapse in contact, so Laurel assumed—thoughtlessly, she chides herself—that Louis wouldn’t be, either. But Nita has moved on from McMurdo. Louis hasn’t.

His response is no more than one letter.

k

I can explain. I have so much to tell you.

hm

I’m coming to McMurdo. We’re taking a cruise.