Page 95 of Nobody in Particular

I’m not so certain, but hearing her say so does alleviate some of the tension in my shoulders. “You think?”

“Sure. Maybe we’ll do a roster or something. Some days Danni hangs with me and you hang with Eleanor, then we switch it up.”

“Okay. And Danni and I can spend evenings together, perhaps.”

We pass a group of third-year students and fall silent. When we’realone again, Molly gives me a concerned frown. “You’re still going to risk seeing her? Think of what you could lose.”

We’ve reached the entrance to the library, where the printers are. But it’s also where students are likely to gather. So, for now, we hover on the grounds by a heap of brown slush that was once a crisp blanket of snow. “You could lose more than Danni,” Molly continues when I don’t reply. “I’m talking about losing your entire future. Doesn’t that terrify you?”

I press my fingertips to my temples, because I know there’s a correct answer here, but it feels like a lie.

“Can I tell you something sort of heavy?” Molly asks.

“Okay.”

She glances around us. “When Oscar died… at first… there were days I wished I died instead. When you’re in that kind of grief, it’s hard to see things clearly, and I thought I lost everything. Obviously I didn’t die, and you know what? I like my life. I like living. And I would still do almost anything to undo that night,” she adds quickly. “But he wasn’t my life. He was an incredible, amazing part of it, and I miss him every day. My life still has worth without him, though. I don’t want you to throw away everything that matters to you for her. Your life is bigger than Danni, and hers is bigger than you.”

I struggle with her words, turning them over every which way. In the end, all I can give her is a nod of acknowledgment, while I adjust my cape. Danni’s cape. “I have to get back inside,” I say. “But thank you.”

She sighs, and nods in return.

THIRTY-EIGHTDANNI

It seems like I’ve only been asleep for a couple of minutes when a gentle but persistent rapping on my door drags me awake. I try to tune it out—consciousness is a hard no after the day I’ve just had—but eventually the knocking gets too annoying and I stumble out of bed. I open the door a crack to find Rose standing there, holding a folded blanket in front of her. “Were you sleeping?” she asks, pushing past me to get inside.

“It’s, like, one in the morning, so yes,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Also, you never messaged me back after your nap, and I was worried.”

I climb back into bed and find my warm spot, pulling the blankets back up. “Get in,” I offer, patting the space beside me.

She crouches in front of me. I think she’s going to kiss me, but instead she whispers, “Actually, can you get dressed? I want to go for a walk.”

“It’s freaking freezing out there,” I groan. “And my bed is so toasty. Can’t we just cuddle and fall asleep and pretend nothing outside the room exists at all?”

She holds out the blanket in response, looking proud of herselffor her foresight. Yeah. Okay. It’s not gonna help much, but I can’t say no to that face, can I?

We steal down the hallway without saying a word. Her bodyguard isn’t with her, I notice. It’s the first time I’ve seen Rose leave the nearby buildings without one of them. There’s a tense moment when she gingerly opens the front door, and it creaks like an animal in agony, but no one comes out of their rooms. I can’t help breaking into silent, nervous laughter while we cross the courtyard. “Why are we doing this?” I ask.

“Because I don’t think we’re going to get a chance to see each other outside our rooms for a long time.”

My heart sinks. I want to ask her for more information, but I also don’t. I can figure out what she means from context, and I justcan’t. I can’t handle any more bad news. So, I suck it up, and follow her into the night.

We reach the edge of the woods, and I zip up my parka. With winter only just behind us, it’s not snowing anymore, but it’s damn well close to it.

Rose cups my hands in hers. “Where are your gloves?” she chides.

“I forgot them.”

Wordlessly, she takes the gloves off her own hands and passes them to me.

“I don’t want to go in the woods, Rose,” I say, blowing onto my gloved hands to heat them up. “It’s creepy at night.”

“We lurk around the woods all the time,” she says airily.

“It’s notall the time,” I protest. “And usually we have Theodore with us. Why didn’t you wake him up, by the way?”

Rose looks into the woods grimly. “I need to talk to you.”

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