The Multitudes Within Me (Sequel to The Sound of Ice)

7

In chemistry the next day, Eliza stares at me with her jaw hanging open. "Cameron was here?"

"Yeah, last night."

"Oh my GOD. Oh my god. And I didn't meet him? Is he just as cute as you remembered? Did you have sex? Are you sure you didn't dream it?"

My face flames. "Eliza, please shut up." It really did feel like a fever dream, though.

She throws her hands in the air in faux exasperation. "I can't believe this. Wow! Wow, Sam! Aren't you happy?"

"Yes."

Mrs. Howard clears her throat by the chalkboard and the lecture hall immediately quiets. I pull out my pen from my backpack.

"You have to tell me more later," whispers Eliza, pulling her hair back in a ponytail.

I rest my head on my hand and glance around the room, my eyelids heavy, feeling less than enthusiastic about jumping into another confusing lesson. And I miss Cameron. I miss him. I miss him.

"Good morning," says Mrs. Howard, leaning against the front of her desk. "As you all know, this is one of the most difficult undergraduate courses this university offers."

Students shift uncomfortably around the room.

"The exam is in a few weeks, so I trust you've all already been studying. Today we'll be taking a pop quiz -"

A air of nervousness rises, and a student behind me mutters, "Shit!" softly under their breath.

"- that will be a recap of basic principles we've learned so far. To those truly interested and passionate about pursuing this subject, this quiz should come fairly easily. If not - you have a lot of studying to do before the exam."

I chew on my pen. Eliza glances at me sideways and sticks out her tongue. How is she not nervous?

"We got this," she whispers, winking, and spins her gel pen through her fingers.

An hour later, Eliza and I walk out of the science building and into the chill. I pull my hood over my head and stuff my hands in the pockets of Cameron's sweatshirt as leaves whirl around, the wind whipping them from bare trees.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," she says, unwrapping a stick of bubble gum. "I definitely got a couple questions wrong. And I really need to study stereochemistry a lot more before the exam. But I think it went okay. What about you, Sam?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I don't think I did very well."

She walks backwards ahead of me, her boots crunching over leaves, her hands tucked in the pockets of her pink bomber jacket. "I'm sure you did fine. You always think you did bad, but you didn't."

"Maybe..."

"Come on, let's go to the movies or something tonight. There's this new movie that Julie really wants to see. And Marly said she wants to hang out with us more, too."

I shrug again. "I think I'm going to study tonight, I have lots of work to do. But let me know how it is."

She makes a face. "Sam. No studying."

A bell tolls a couple blocks away, and I squint into the distance.

"Why are you so quiet? Don't worry about the quiz, you did fine. Mrs. Howard just likes to scare everyone."

No shit. Mrs. Howard scares the hell out of me.

~

In the dorm rooms, Pierce and I are both working at our desks. It's rare for us both to be here during the day.

I chew on my pencil as I listen to music, my classical study playlist humming through my earbuds. I highlight my phrases in my physics textbook, marking up the margins. Physics is a nice break from chemistry - equations I understand, methods and meanings that make sense.

As the sky outside fades to a pale dusk, Pierce scoots back in his chair and clears his throat. "Hey," he says.

I look over my shoulder and pull out an earbud. He's wearing his rowing jacket, and there's a faint smudge of pen ink on his cheek.

"Hey."

"This is random, but I just thought I'd ask if you wanted to come to church with me this weekend."

I don't think I hear him right. "Church?"

"Yeah. You don't have to, of course. But it really helped me when my mom had cancer."

I know Pierce goes to church every week, but I hadn't been since living in St. Anne. And even then, I wouldn't go very often. Tom is Catholic, but he isn't nearly as religious as Mrs. Beckett.

"I don't know," I say slowly. "Maybe? I don't go a lot. Besides, churches aren't the biggest fans of people like me."

He shrugs. "They don't care. Not where I go. Laura goes with me, and my family does too, since they live in Boston."

"It's on Sunday?"

"Yeah, Sunday morning."

"You think I'd like it?"

"Who knows? Maybe you will."

"Do I have to - do I have to wear something nice?"

Pierce shrugs again. "Just, like, a sweater or something."

I think about it. "Okay," I say. "Sure."

Mrs. Beckett would be happy.

And besides, if there is a God, there are some things I need to ask him.