how to catch feelings

102

"I don't have a class in the Sciences either," I said as I sat down across from Cole.

He laughed.

"Guess we're both a little crazy."

"Something like that." He closed his book and set it aside. "So how was your class? Wherever it is."

"It was hella boring. Yours?"

"I started counting ceiling tiles."

"Oof."

"Yeah." He picked my straw wrapped up off the table and started fidgeting with it. "I guess since the case is closed, they're releasing Dax's things."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I got an email. He had one of my notebooks in his duffel bag. I'm supposed to pick it up from the police station."

"You want to go right now?"

"I mean... Yeah. Sure."

"Lit."

We gathered up our things and headed out across campus.

When we reached the station, I had half a mind to stay outside, but I instead bit my lip and followed Cole in.

"I'm here to pick up a notebook. It was with Dax Sharp's things," he said to the student at the desk.

"ID?"

Cole passed her his student ID.

She nodded and returned it. "I'll be right back."

Well, she came back, but not alone.

"Hello, Natalie," Chief Waters said.

I offered him an awkward smile.

The older man offered Cole a green notebook. "You have our deepest condolences, son. Good luck on the field this weekend."

"Thank you, sir."

A couple handshakes, and we were on our way again.

"So why'd he have your notebook?" I asked.

"Oh. It was for chem. He kept failing. I loaned him my notes." He gestured with the notebook. "I told him to just keep it, but I guess the police wouldn't have known that."

"Probably not."

Cole came to a stop beside the studio. "What do you want to do now?"

"I dunno."

"Are you hungry?"

"I mean, I could eat."

"Great."

***

We went to the walk-up window at Rally's, ordering popcorn chicken and fries to eat at one of the picnic tables.

"My roommates are going to kill me," I said, tearing into my bag.

"Why's that?" Cole took a sip of his Coke.

"One, they're crazy about chicken. Two... well... you know what you said yesterday?"

"I recall saying a few things..."

"About the old lady and the Tik Toks."

"Ah. Go on."

"Well... it's kind of the same. Like, for me. And my roommates are kind of deeply invested."

"I see." He cracked a smile. "So we're on the same page. All of us."

I laughed. "Yeah."

"Awesome. So can I...?" He slowly reached his hand across the table.

Oh, fuck.

Nat, don't be a weenie.

I dropped my fries to take his hand. "My fingers are sweaty," I whispered. "Nervous sweaty."

"I'll just pretend it's grease from the fries," he said.

I couldn't help it, with the nerves and that goofy smile he was giving me, I just had to laugh and laugh and laugh.

"What? Did I already get food on my shirt?"

"No, no, you're good. I'm just..."

"Yeah. Hungry." He squeezed my fingers and then let go. "Bon appetit."

We ate our food and then got into a heated discussion about our classes.

Before I knew it, I was checking my phone and seeing it was almost five-thirty.

"Need to go back to campus?" Cole asked.

"Nah. My roommates might be wondering where I am, but I don't need to go back."

"Ever?"

"You're right. Let's just drive up to Mackinaw."

"Don't tempt me." He collected our trash and took it over to the garbage can.

"It's only a few hours away."

"Don't."

"My bad." I grabbed my lanyard and phone. "No Mackinaw."

"Right. Because we have classes tomorrow and that would be irresponsible."

"Very."

"Maybe another time."

"Maybe."

***

I searched up the photo from the group chat.

If it was suicide, had he shot himself? Cut his throat?

Something had to account for all that blood.

I guess that didn't really matter so much as the fact that it was a suicide.

But the footprint.

How had that gotten there?

And who had taken the picture?

And why give it to The Post?

Something wasn't adding up.

I rolled over in bed. Nights like these made me wish I took my antidepressants in the evening rather than the morning.

I went into Messenger. Cole's profile pic had the little green dot on it.

Excellent.

I hit the facetime option and waited for him to pick up.

"Figured you'd be asleep," he said as soon as the call connected.

"My brain wouldn't shut up."

"Ah. I feel. So what's up?"

"I can't stop thinking about that picture."

"The one of Dax?"

"Yeah. If Dax committed suicide, who took the picture? And why?"

"I dunno. Maybe one of his roommates did it?"

"But why?"

"Who knows. Maybe they thought there was foul play. Did you ask them?"

"No. Not yet."

"So email them in the morning."

"I guess so."

"Was there anything else bothering you?"

I thought of the footprint again, the Cole-sized footprint. "No, not off the top of my head."

"Alright. You gonna go to sleep now?"

"Gonna try, I guess."

"Okay. Cool. Talk to you tomorrow then."

"Yeah. Night."

"Goodnight."

*** ***