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“But why in hundreds? If anything, it should be something with sixty since there are sixty minutes in an hour. What does one hundred have to do with anything?” Gem turned, calling out, “Jason! Why do people say oh-five-hundred and not oh-whatever the multiplication of sixty is?”
Laney snorted a laugh. “Why would he know?”
“He’s super smart and knows a lot of weird shit. Jason!”
When the man in question finally appeared, Gem asked him again, to which he responded, “I don’t know. Google it,” earning a grumble from Gem and a laugh from the rest.
Sam smiled, dropping her head back to the wall. From murder to the proper way to tell time, she could always count on her friends to ease her mind.
31
The North Campus neighborhood was a fifteen-minute walk from the University of Texas, with lots of trees and people on bikes. There was always something going on in Austin, concerts to attend, new food to try, but in the month Sam had lived there, she hadn’t done much besides work and explore the parks and walking trails. Though with the temperature constantly at surface-of-the-sun highs, even her walks didn’t last long. She’d mostly spent her nights in her small but comfy condo on a safe and quiet street with a great barbecue joint a block away, watchingGolden Girls,trying to ignore the root of her reluctance to make Austin her new home.
Everything was wonderful with her friends, and they’d sent her coloring books and flowers with their best wishes in her new city. And her family life had taken an unexpected turn. Since Phil had gone Facebook official with Trisha, she’d apparently pushed him to become more friendly with Carol, which led them to decide it would be better for all parties involved if communication was improved across the board. That was how they all ended up in a family chat. It was filled with reminders from Carol about birthdays of extended family members and a science fact of the day from Phil. Gavin was required to show proof of life every Monday morning, and he even asked Sam to help him with some Psych 101 homework. It was probably the best her family had ever been.
With everything going so well, she should have been happy. She should have been living it up, and yet she couldn’t rid herself of the lingering pain in her chest. In the exact spot where her heart used to reside.
Although Mike had texted her twice, Sam hadn’t spoken to him since she’d left Ohio. He had messaged her a few days after she’d arrived in Texas, checking in, and then last week, he’d sent her a video link to his YouTube channel. She hadn’t bothered to watch the video and didn’t respond to either message, afraid she’d collapse under the weight of her sorrow, more than she already had.
She hoped a night out with a bucketload of liquor would help to lift her up a bit. That was why when Farid had invited her out to a downtown bar, she’d accepted. He was also finishing his PhD, and they’d often eat lunchtime burritos together. A few days ago, she’d given him a brief synopsis of her summer, that there was a boy and it didn’t work out, and in return, Farid had told her he’d recently broken up with a guy too. Then he’d swiftly declared they needed to drink and dance to get over them.
“If you can’t fuck ’em, fuck ’em,” he’d said, and Sam agreed wholeheartedly. Fuck ’em.
As she stepped out of the shower, her phone buzzed with a text from Farid, informing her that he’d be at her place in half an hour. She sent back a couple of emojis then blow-dried her newly dyed hair. One of the first things she’d done after moving was to find a good hair stylist to get rid of the purple. It reminded her too much of Mike and how he’d roll the strands between his fingers. Unfortunately, she also couldn’t go with any other combination of “mermaid colors” or anything close to peach. With few options left, she’d chosen a black to platinum ombre. She’d never had her hair this dark before, but it suited her mood, and she hoped the ghost of summer past would quit haunting her soon.
After slipping into jeans and a plum-colored crop top, she was in search of shoes when a knock sounded on her door. Farid was perpetually late, so, of course, the one time he was early, she wasn’t near ready, and she laughed as she opened the door.
“My makeup isn’t even—” Sam’s smile dropped. “What are you doing here?”
Mike gazed at her, his dark eyes flaring as they coasted over her face, and his brows narrowed ever so slightly, like he was studying data on a chart and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
“What are you doing here?” she asked again, resting her right hand against the doorframe, her body suddenly not quite able to find its equilibrium.
“Are you okay?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head, frustration rapidly overtaking her confusion. After unceremoniously dumping her, he was going to show up here after a month and ask if she was okay? The audacity.
“You look a little pale,” he said, and she snapped her eyes open, hating herself for reflexively taking a step toward him. She’d grown used to his constant concern and discerning attention over the summer, but she didn’t think she’d still be susceptible to it.
“I’m fine,” she bit out, hanging on to her anger by her fingernails.
He lifted his hand from where it had been hidden behind his back and held out a bouquet of flowers. A huge spray of roses, carnations, daisies, and lilies, all in varying shades of orange, peach, and cream. “I saw these, and they reminded me of you.”
She growled. “Mike, what are you doing?”
When she didn’t accept the flowers, he dropped them to his side. “You never replied to my texts.”
“Yeah. Why would I? Our summer is over, and you said it would be better for both of us if we went our separate ways.”
He licked his lips and ran his free hand over his closely shaved beard, then set it against his sternum, his T-shirt all wrinkled. She didn’t recall ever seeing him in anything with wrinkles. The guy was a walking commercial for an ironing board.
“Did you watch the video I sent you?”
Finally finding her footing, she crossed her arms in answer, her patience quickly dwindling.
“It got a lot of views,” he told her. “I wanted you to see it.”
“You came here to tell me that you want me to watch your video?”
