Page 41 of No One Else

I hang up with him and speed up my steps toward the gym, pulling up Samantha’s contact info on my phone next.

Now for part two.

***

“NATALIE, YOU’RE DOWNRIGHTdevious,” Samantha grins, thumping her thumb against her steering wheel.

“Really, what choice did he leave me?” I rearrange the grocery bags in my lap, my arsenal of medicinal supplies at the ready.

I’m getting to the bottom of it today. I can’t wait any longer. That conversation earlier at lunch only fed my curiosity, even as it resolved my suspicions.

“Is this the turn?”

“Yeah, a left here. The house number is 11207,” I tell her, glancing at the address again on Google Maps on my phone.

She pulls into the driveway of a lower middle class home in a neighborhood about fifteen minutes away from campus, and parks behind Evan’s Bronco. The house is a pale yellow, the white trim surrounding it grimy in places and the bushes overgrown, though the grass is neatly cut.

“You’ll call me if you need a ride home?” she asks, a wrinkle forming between her brows.

“I will. Thank you so much.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she says cheerfully as I gather all the bags.

I watch her pull away, suddenly unsure about my plan. What if he gets mad that I showed up without asking? When she turns the corner out of sight, though, I brace myself to walk up to the door.

I set the bags down next to me on the ground as I knock gently, and a minute later a tall man with Evan’s hazel eyes opens the door, although it’s hard to tell with the left one, the skin scarred and tight around the area.

“Hi, I’m Evan’s friend. I know he’s sick, but I was hoping I could see him?”

The man’s mouth splits wide in a grin, the same lopsided one Evan sports. His eyes crinkle too, the scar tissue enveloping his left eye until it’s completely obscured. “Let me guess. You’re Natalie.”

I immediately frown, wondering how in the world he could know that. I nod slowly. “That’s right.”

“I’m Pete, his dad. Come in, come in,” he motions with a cane, still smiling. He hobbles over to a tan recliner and I grab my stuff, joining him in the living room. “What’s in the bags?” he asks good-naturedly, taking his time sitting down, leaning heavily on the cane.

“Stuff for Evan. Tissues, throat lozenges, ibuprofen, cough syrup, and chicken soup.” I sit down gingerly on the edge of a couch cushion, still focused on what he first said. “How did you know my name?”

“You’re the only girl he’s ever mentioned in the last, oh, I don’t know,” he says, scratching at the mostly gray stubble on his jaw, “two years?”

My brows furrow down. “What about Sarah? Is she here? Is she coming over?”

“Haven’t heard any mention of a Sarah. Just you and Luke. You know him?” I nod warily. Evan’s never talked about anyone besides us two? “What’s he look like? I’ve always wondered.”

“Uh, about the same height as Evan. Golden brown hair, blue eyes. He works as a personal trainer too so he’s really fit.”

“Huh. Always thought of him as having black hair for some reason.”

Um, okay? I mentally shake my head, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Is Evan here? I saw his car outside.”

“He’s sleeping. He looked god-awful last night. Didn’t want to wake him if I didn’t have to.”

My brain is slow to catch up, still processing earlier parts of the conversation. “So, just to go back, he’s never mentioned Sarah? His girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” he snorts. “Nah, no way he has a girlfriend.”

I inwardly smile. Exhibit E, ladies and gentlemen. His own father hasn’t heard of her. “What makes you so sure?”

“Half the time he won’t shut up about you,” he says, popping up the foot of the recliner to lean back and stretch out.

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