"Hi, sweetheart."
"Ash, hi!" His voice made my heart happy. "I missed you yesterday."
"Me too. How about I make it up to you tonight? Dinner, romance, maybe some kissing?"
"I'd love to. But only if I can bring my books. I have to study or I'll never get caught up."
He sighed dramatically. "Fine, but I reserve the right to distract you at every opportunity."
"Sounds fair."
The campus smelled like cold and rain and wet trees and I loved it. I loved seeing familiar faces rush to class, texting and talking on their cell phones, nodding to each other as they passed. I loved the tap of shoes on the pavement. It was familiar and comforting. It was home.
I avoided Harvard Square and Lucky's old kiosk, taking a different path to my class with Professor Cavin. On the way I called Detective Gray for an update.
"Hello." He sounded hung-over when he answered, and I wondered if he'd been partying last night too.
"It's Catelyn Travis. Did you find anything on the guy who left the note?"
"Yeah, about that…" I heard the clicking of a keyboard and someone shouting at someone else in the background. "We had a sketch made from the nurse's description. It looks like Ash."
My heart stopped. "Did you show her a photo of him?"
"Yeah. She said she wasn't sure."
I sighed. "Someone dressed up like him."
"Or maybe Ash is just messing with you. Rich boys can have a twisted sense of fun."
I started biting my nails, then stopped. "Did you ask her if she switched the note?"
He started chewing something, his lips smacking. "Yes. She didn't."
"She might be lying."
"Maybe."
"Get her to take a polygraph."
Smack. "Catelyn, she's not being charged with anything. I'm not asking her any more questions."
I bowed my head, resigned. "What's next?"
"Let me know if you get another note. In the meanwhile, you should really consider seeing a—"
I hung up before he could finish. "Jackass."
A scrawny guy in front of me turned around, startled.
"Not you."
He shrugged and walked off, probably texting his friend about the crazy lady talking to herself.
My head spun as the anger built in me, and I leaned my forehead against a brick building for support, my eyes closed. I took deep breaths to calm down. My temper had never been this volatile, but ever since my mini-coma, I felt this rage living just on the surface of my skin, crawling over me like frenzied ants.
Once my heart rate returned to normal, I opened my eyes and recognized the wall I was leaning against. Curious, I ran my palm over the textured and worn bricks until I found the loose one. I pulled it out and stuck my hand in the small hole, smiling when my fingers grazed a piece of paper. Covering my actions with my body, I freed the paper—folded multiple times like a note passed around class—and replaced the brick. Brig and I had used the loose brick to pass secrets to each other through undergrad. Four years of jokes, laughs and tears, all held by this silent wall. I still had a box of the notes, but hadn't checked the brick since last year.
I opened the note and read Brig's fancy scrawl.
Hey,
What's the difference between a teacher and a train?
The teacher says, "Get that gum out of your mouth," whereas the train says, "Chew, chew."
I know, it's lame. But you try doing better.
I laughed at the random nature of it, grateful for the small memory between friends. I considered writing a reply. A joke I heard in— "Catelyn!"
I forced a smile, shoving the note into my pocket, as Jon approached me. "Hi," I said.
"Hi. You're looking good." He smiled and for a moment I saw the resemblance between him and Ash.
"Thanks. Trying to recover. Oh, did you have a nice visit with Ash yesterday?"
He frowned. "No, why would I have seen my brother?"
"No reason. I just though he stopped by." Because that's what Bridgette had said.
"Nope. Can I walk you to your class?"
"Um, sure." We headed that way while he made small talk about classes, the weather, other stuff I wasn't paying any attention to.
"Hey, Jon, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Ash was arrested a while back, when he was a teenager. My mother was the DA on the case. Do you know much about it?"
His face closed down, just like that. All the warmth gone. "No, I don't. I gotta get to class."
"Okay, thanks for—"
He walked away before I could finish my sentence. I shook my head, forever perplexed by the moods of men.
I shrugged it off and took my seat in class, waving to Professor Cavin who smiled at me from his post in front of the projector.
Cavin began his lecture. His words started slow, but sped up; the writing on the overhead blurred until I couldn't make it out. The buzzing started in my head again, this time louder than before. Pain spiked behind my eyes. Someone called my name as everything went black.
Chapter Nine
Brain Exams