No Kissing Allowed

Chapter 33: The Scientific Method

Chapter 33: The Scientific Method

Cora felt off balance, thrown by Jamie's whispered declaration. "I think I might be in love with you." He'd headed out into the night and left her in the bungalow alone, her heart still pounding from the shock. Where in the world had that come from? One minute they were discussing hopeless crushes, and the next he was tossing around the L-word?

She winced, remembering her reaction. Not her finest moment. Her immediate response had been disbelief, and she still found it hard to accept that he might have meant those words. She would need time to turn it over in her mind in light of all the other accumulated evidence, all his other words and actions over the preceding days and nights.

This would take time to assess properly. Cora's mind reverted to the standard process when she analyzed any new research question. The scientific method. It soothed her racing pulse with its structure and its framework, back on solid ground in familiar territory.

Step one:
Define the hypothesis and the null hypothesis.

"Hypothesis: he loves me," she muttered under her breath. "Null hypothesis: he's only playing games."

The scientific method could not be rushed. Further questioning would be needed. But Jamie had disappeared into the night before she could formulate a thought.

"Don't worry yourself. Just go to sleep."

As if sleep were anywhere within the realm of possibility after the statement he had made and her mess of a response.

She couldn't leave it like that, with the height of squirm-inducing awkwardness still lingering between them when the crew showed up at the crack of dawn. Then they'd have to wait all day for the cameras to leave again before they could discuss it.

Impossible. The daylight hours felt endless enough already without that dangling in the air. In any case, Jamie couldn't have gone far. He might be right outside, lounging in the hammock. He wouldn't have gone down to the beach, would he? In the middle of the night?

Cora ventured forth from the bungalow, squinting against the darkness with her arms flung wide for balance. A half-moon hovered above the horizon, thankfully. The wan light filtered through a veil of wispy clouds. It reminded Cora of the nightlight in her bedroom back at home. Sufficient light for her to keep her bearings.

The strings of the hammock reflected in the moonlight, a web of dingy grey hanging limp between two palm trees. No sign of any occupant.

Cora scowled. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called in the direction of the beach. "Jamie!"

No answer but the ever-present rhythm of the surf.

She shuffled a few steps further from the bungalow's front door. Should she go after him in spite of the inky darkness? Surely, she'd walked the rock-strewn path from the bungalow to the beach enough times to do it with her eyes closed. She could make out the dark silhouettes of boulders to navigate between, their jagged edges outlined in dull silver.

Nothing else for it, she decided. The moonlight would suffice. She began a tentative descent, picking her way carefully through the uneven terrain with nothing approaching sure-footedness. Even at home with her nightlight, traversing her uncluttered bedroom was like walking around half-drunk.

Halfway down, she paused to call his name again.

Again, no answer. No sign of him.

Cora expelled an exasperated breath. It didn't help matters one bit that she'd only put on flip flops instead of proper shoes. She hadn't expected to be going on a hike. Was she being an idiot, heading out into the night with only a half moon to guide her? From her current vantage point, with her night-vision as useless as ever, she could see neither the bungalow up above nor the ocean down below. The arrangement of rocks and trees in her immediate vicinity looked unfamiliar, and she squinted as she struggled to make out the beaten path. She may have veered slightly off course already. She could feel weeds poking out of the sand, scratching at her feet.