Because of Pete and his stupid theory of closeness.

Ginette wondered what Rhonda would have done if Dave had ever said something like what Pete had said to her earlier—about being as far away from someone as you can possibly be when you’re sitting as close to them as you can possibly be.

And then she realized it didn’t matter what Rhonda would have done, because Dave would never have said anything so convoluted. Because Dave wasn’t a convoluted person.

But Pete obviously was.

And Ginette was done with his convolutedness.

And she was done with the strange notions that meandered through his mind. Notions like … that you can be far away from someone when you’re sitting right next to them.

And she walked faster as if she were trying to distance herself from Pete and his nonsensical notions.

But then she suddenly stopped and ached and almost gasped and realized she wasn’t ready to be done with Pete’s convolutedness.

And she wasn’t ready to be done with the strange, nonsensical notions that meandered through his mind.

This latest one, though—well, she just didn’t understand it. She understood its meaning—she just didn’t understand why Pete had shared it when he had.

And she wondered if maybe she should go back to the observatory at Skyview Park and see if Pete was still there and ask him to explain himself—and his bad timing.

But—no, she thought. He needed to come and find her if he was going to explain himself.

She would not be going to him.

So she continued on her way to Nowhere.

But she stopped again after a few steps. Because she had the strangest, strongest feeling that Pete was coming after her—because he wanted to explain himself. She whirled around and shone her flashlight down the Road to Somewhere, half expecting and half hoping that she’d see Pete running toward her, maybe in slow motion—like in a dumb movie—with his arms outstretched, apologizing all over the place for ruining the best evening that either of them had ever had.

But she didn’t see him.

Because he wasn’t running toward her.

He was probably still just sitting on the bench, nerding out over his theory, she thought.

But that was not, in fact, what Pete was doing. At least not just yet.

He had finally overcome the heaviness that had paralyzed him when Ginette left. And he had stood up. And was now staring off in the direction Ginette had headed when she left Skyview Park.

And he wasn’t nerding out over his theory. He was worrying that he had made a big mistake by sharing it with Ginette. Because Ginette was gone. Long gone. She had left him at 7:45. And it was just about 9 p.m.

And then he started wondering if Ginette had taken his theory literally. He certainly hadn’t intended for her to. He was just musing. About geography. And the distance between two points. And the enormity of love.

But what if Ginette had taken his musings seriously? What if she was walking around the world to get close to him again?