Page 122 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

“It’s hard to forget how much Brody loves stars. Remember Azerbaijan?”

“I do remember. But even though I was there, during both the taxi ride from hell and those long Yellowstone Club lectures, it never occurred to me to schedule . . . this.”

We’re quiet as we watch Brody and Akoni.

“It wasn’t on the original itinerary. Do you suppose Brody just . . . changed his mind?”

Lucas is silent for so long I think he won’t reply. The loading time just seems extreme, even for a sleepy Lucas. But then he whispers, so quietly it’s a strain to hear, “What brings you joy doesn’t change.”

Because Akoni can tell Brody’s a real enthusiast, what I had booked as a one-hour, please-make-an-exception experience turns into three hours and change. I’m pretty sure Akoni exchanges phone numbers with Brody, saying something about the local astronomy club, before he leaves with a wave, getting onto a battered skateboard that looks woefully out of place next to the pristine parked golf carts.

The hotel is eerily quiet and dim by the time we walk the winding path back.

“I didn’t even think to check if they had an observatory.” It’s the quietest I’ve ever heard him, this he/him/bro/dude who’s always been larger than life. “Thank you, Red.”

44

I BLOCK LUCAS’S NUMBER

BEFORE

Ihold my breath until the moment the airline accepts my credit card. It’s a last-minute fare to Shanghai, and I’m sure it costs the earth. But for the first time in years, I didn’t bother asking what the price was. Either it was under my credit limit or it wasn’t.

But the little chime tells me that my payment has been accepted, and I’m handed a thin boarding pass. Given I’m not supposed to go to Shanghai for another week (because the original plan was that I would fly back to Pasadena with the rest of the team, that I’d have a few last days to find a way to break the news to Lucas), I’m not actually sure where I’ll stay either.

A gurgle of hysterical laughter breaks out just as Brody texts me.

BRODY: Are you okay?

BRODY: Lucas is not okay.

BRODY: I mean he will be okay, so don’t worry.

BRODY: Where are you?

BRODY: I mean, I can see you’re at the airport.

BRODY: But like . . .

ME: Tell Prof. Miller I had to go to Shanghai.

ME: Don’t worry.

I’ve barely hit send when Lucas’s name appears on my screen. I set his profile pic to a selfie I took of just the two of us, in my dorm room. No particular occasion, just a candid shot taken at the end of a study session that I liked because of how goofy he looked, my serious Lucas, smiling up at me as if I’m his whole world.

I decline the call, and when it rings again, I block his number.

I can’t run forever.

I just need to run long enough for Lucas to give up.

45

ACTUALLY READ THE GREAT GATSBY?

PRESENT

Despite how late we got back and despite the fact that Brody slept on my couch, all three of us are caffeinated and almost too-awake before seven, meaning we doomscroll the Brody and Vi stories together: That the potential bride and groom are living in separate hotel rooms. That Brody’s gotten back together with his college girlfriend (I’m guessing this is me, though I’m not named). That Vi’s three-picture movie deal is in jeopardy, given her status (and this is news to me) as America’s up-and-coming girl next door.