For Evermore

CHAPTER 21

Why would Jeremy let me win? Does he really like me as Oliver says or was he trying to be some hero letting me win? And what does Oliver mean he let me win? I wouldn't have won if I hadn't gotten that answer right. 

Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy.

Ugh, I don't even know whether to confront him or not. What if he had actually gotten confused and told the wrong answer?

But wasn't he trying to tell me something? Oh, yes I totally forgot! I need to talk to him! My grandfather's diary- he has it. He said there was some hidden message. I need to know. How could it have slipped my mind? He would have told me then if Bacchus hadn't interrupted us. Should I find him now? Maybe he is at that party with the others. 

I'm sitting on the floor outside my door, holding a book but not reading. My mind's just not clear enough. Normally in this situation, I would write to gain perspective, but tonight, I need some air, and I need to do nothing for some time. I'm just sitting, staring into space and thinking when I spot something, or rather, someone in my peripheral vision. I turn to look. It's Agatha I think. Why isn't she at that party? She seems to be in a hurry. Maybe she's late. She's frantically locking her door and moving quickly towards the stairs. I wonder where the party is. I didn't even ask Oliver. But it must be in someone's dorm room, although I can't hear any music from here. 

It's midnight. I change into my PJs and go out of the building for a stroll after wearing a hoodie to keep the chill at bay. A midnight stroll ought to clear my head. I find the bench with my grandfather's name on it and sit there. The wind blows steadily. I can feel my cheeks getting blotchy from the cold, but I don't move. Maybe the wind will freeze my skull and make my brain stiff so it can't think for a while. That's what I want- to be free of thought for a moment. But the anticipation of what the important secret message could be does not let that happen. What could be so important that he had to hide the message and leave it specifically for me when he passed away before I even started to talk?

I close my eyes, tip my head back and inhale deeply. Freshly mown grass and the cold wind emanate a distinct fragrance that I don't particularly dislike. I sit like this for a few minutes with my hoodie covering the top quarter of my face.

"Katherine, is that you?"

I was half asleep by that time, so my eyes flutter open to a blur. I squint at the person in front of me.

"It's me. What are you doing here?"

"Jeremy?"

"Yeah, it's me. Why are you sitting here, alone, and in the middle of the night?" he asks me.

"I just needed some air. What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at that party?"

"Yes, I was. I just took off early. I was heading back to my dorm when I saw you here," he confesses.

"Heading back from where? Was it off-campus?" I ask him.

"It's in the woods. Why didn't you come?" he asks.

"I'm just not a party person. I thought I'd read, but then I ended up here somehow."

"Me neither. That's why I took off early," he says.

"In the woods, huh? That's pretty wild for a bunch of intellectuals," I say.

"Intellectuals are the wildest people under circumstances."

"I guess so," I say with a sigh.

"I was telling you about your grandfather's journal. It's-"

"Shhh, wait, don't tell me yet," I say.

"Why not? I thought your head would be spinning with questions," he says.

"It was, until a few moments ago. But all this information about so many things and so many secrets. I need some quiet. Can it wait until tomorrow?" I ask.

"It's important, yes, but I suppose it can wait until tomorrow. I'll let you have tonight," he says.

I realize he's been standing all this time. 

"Have a seat, if you aren't in a rush," I say.

He seems to think for a second, then he sits beside me.

"Nice spot, this one. The view, the direction of the wind, the tree overhead, I like it," he says.

"I know. This has to be one of my favourite spots on campus. It feels like a second home, plus, my grandfather's name is on this bench," I point to the engraved lettering on the bench.

"Wow! That's incredible! Your grandfather's name is actually engraved on a bench? He must've been more important than we know," he says.

"Perhaps," I say.

We spend a couple of minutes in the quietness of the wind and our breaths, then I ask him-

"What is this I hear from Oliver about you losing the quiz on purpose?"

He looks surprised.

"What? Why would I do that, Katherine? I just didn't know the answer, that's all," he says.

"But you did. Oliver told me that you knew the answer and that you had told him about it just days ago," I give him a questioning look.

"Why does it matter? You won!" he says, trying to change the subject.

"But you could have won!"

"I knew how much it meant to you," he said, looking apologetic.

"But that's not fair. Why would you do that?" I ask.

"I guess I just wanted you to win," he says.

"Why?" I whisper.

"I don't know. I just did. I have no answer for that, Katherine. At that moment when the last question was asked, I couldn't bring myself to see you lose, so I lost instead. And somehow, it made me happy. I have no answer if you ask me why," he doesn't meet my gaze.

I don't push him further. He's not so bad after all, despite the not-so-great experiences I had with him a few weeks earlier.

"Come by, tomorrow, during lunch hour, to my dorm," I say.

"To your dorm?" he asks.

"Yes, with the journal, I mean. I'd come to your place but Oliver might be there,"

"Oh, right, the journal. I'll bring it," he inhales sharply.

"It's getting late, maybe we should head back," I say.

"See you tomorrow then, Katherine," he says as he gets up.

"See you tomorrow, Jeremy," I reply. Then, we part ways and I head back to my room without looking back.

Does he really like me? I don't know. If you like someone, don't you start acting excited and say all the wrong things? He seems really calm, and I can't see him getting nervous. His tone is always perfectly even, without a hint of nerves. But then again, letting someone win on a quiz is also a sign that you do like them. Jeremy and his mysteries. I'll never know.