Clear Skies

3. An Instagram picture

"That handkerchief looked vaguely familiar."

"Uhh yes, Zoe, the letter R is definitely familiar to us. In fact, it's the second letter of your surname."

Zoe chucks a cushion at me. I barely dodge it, and turn towards her.

"Hey! You can't ju-"

She chucks her socks at me. Before I can retaliate, the foulest smell ever hits my nose, and I swear I can see the pits of hell open. This is death.

"Wha-," I cough, "why would yo-," I cough again, "do tha-"

"Stop speaking. I'm doing something important."

After some moments of coughing, frantically running about in search of water, and throwing her socks out of the window, I can speak again.

"When did you last wash them?"

"Let's see," Zoe keeps down her phone, which her eyes didn't leave until now. I know she was busy stalking Ian. That's her important work.

"I bought those socks last year."

"And?" I prompt.

She shakes her head.

I am incapable of uttering a coherent sentence. Imagine knowing a person for five years, but not having a clue about their hygiene.

"Can we friend-divorce?"

Zoe chuckles, and sets her phone down. She sits upright from her lying position, emptying into her palm what was the last of chips from a packet.

"Chill, dumdum. I washed them ereyesterday. You're just a drama queen."

"But I still want a friend-divorce. You ate the third bag of chips we were supposed to carry with us. Also, is that a word? Also again, that smell in two days is even worse"

"Shush. It is a word. And stop sulking. I've found something you have to see."

She opens Ian's Instagram page, which I've already seen at least three thousand times in the last 24 hours. The Camp he works at has an Instagram page of its own, and the rest is pretty easy to guess.

Zoe shows me a picture of Ian holding up his dog, Courage. Most of his photos are with his dog. They're beautiful, and it makes me sure of two things. One, Courage steals the spotlight. And two, I can't remember whom I'm supposed to fall for.

"I've already taken screenshots."

"Nah, look closer."

She zooms in on the photo, pointing to the building in the background. I instantly recognize it. Institute Of Natural Sciences, Fairview.

"Well, I guess he's a nerd too."

"Forget about that!" Zoe exclaims. "I don't care whether he studies there or not. He has taken a picture there, that's enough to gain my approval."

"That's gre-"

"I'll ignore his creepy talks with you."

"They weren't creep-"

"And also that he might be a serial killer."

I give her a dry look. I thought we had established that we can trust Ian, but I guess Zoe didn't agree until now.

Zoe wants to become a microbiologist since she knew bacteria transforms milk into curd, and for some reason, that really piqued her interest in microorganisms. Besides, this institute in Fairview is famous for its Science. Zoe had even visited it last year. When she returned, we all knew she was going there, seeing the amount of studying she did.