I held the phone away from my ear as she yelled, and then cautiously held it within talking distance. “I got you.”

“Okay, then,” Kim said, satisfied.

“Sorry,” Beth whispered before ending the call.

“Sounds like your friends miss you,” Jared grinned.

“They probably just want to yell at me and ask me questions,” I said, stuffing books into my bag.

“You should tell them the truth. They’ll just think you’re crazy and let it go.”

I laughed. “You have a point. It’s the one time I can be honest with them and not worry about them believing me.”

They wouldn’t believe you, anyway,” Jared said, kissing the top of my head. “I can take you today.”

“I know better than to think you’ve given up.”

“No, I’m still working,” he said, keys in hand.

Beth and Kim sat with me at our usual table. They both watched me, until I began to feel like a zoo animal. An interrogation was immanent. Beth’s expression was unsure, nervous—Kim seemed just the opposite. She was ready to pounce.

Beth looked to Kim before she spoke. “How’s Ryan?”

Her question took me off guard. I had expected more questions about the circles under my eyes, or the gallons of caffeinated drinks I’d consumed during the day.

“He doesn’t write much anymore.”

“You don’t talk about him anymore,” Beth said without pause.

“How’s Jared?” Kim asked.

“He’s…fine. Why?”

Kim crossed her arms. “What does he think about the fact that you’re a zombie these days?”

I shrugged. “He wants to fix it.”

“How’s that?” Kim asked.

Too tired for tough questions, my words were more acerbic than I’d intended. “He’s a guy, Kim. Guys want to fix everything.”

Beth nodded. “If a hammer and nails could solve it all….”

“What’s he doing to fix it?” Kim prodded.

“Research,” I said blinking away the urge to let my eyes close.

Beth frowned in reaction. “Nina, you fell asleep on your desk yesterday. Grant is grilling me about what’s going on with you. I don’t even know what the truth is so I can keep from telling him.”

“You won’t accidentally tell him, I promise,” I grumbled as I sipped from the plastic lid of my coffee cup.

“The truth is that far-fetched?” Kim asked.

My stomach began to complain from both the amount of hot liquid swirling inside it, and the irritating predicament I was in. Being impatient and upset so often due to the lack of sleep took a toll on my appetite, and the over abundance of coffee in my system made me feel ill on a regular basis.

I stood. “We’re going to be late.”

“Are you sick, Nina?” Beth asked.

“No,” I said. My nausea was not what she was referring to.

“Do you have some disease you’re not telling us about?”

“No, Beth.”