“Hi from me.”
I look up and see Rowan propped up on one elbow in the dim light. “He says hi.”
She grins, and then falls back on her bed and puts her pillow over her face and says, muffled, “Go ahead and do your oogy talk, I can’t hear you.”
I breathe out a laugh and put my mouth against the phone again. “Rowan knows,” I say.
He hesitates. “Um, okay . . . ?”
“She was on to us for a while. Don’t worry, she’s good with it. And she just discovered something big for us.” “Oh. Well, in that case, cool. What?”
“If this thing happens early next week, or anytime next week, it won’t happen at a public school because we’re all on spring break at the same time.”
He’s silent, and for a minute I think I lost the connection. And then, “Well. Damn. How did we not think of that?”
“Fresh ears and eyes are good,” I say, remembering. “And don’t worry about her. She keeps more secrets than a tomb.”
“I’m not worried,” he says, and his voice totally has me convinced that he’s got this whole thing under control. But I know better.
“So that leaves private schools?” he asks.
“That seems to be the logical conclusion, though I imagine some of them have the same spring break as us.”
“How many private schools are there?”
“I’m not sure. But instead of wasting time in the morning going to check out the two public schools you were planning to look at, maybe we three can meet somewhere to do research?”
“Four,” Rowan says, still muffled.
“I thought you couldn’t hear me,” I whisper.
“What?” Sawyer says.
“Nothing. I mean, Rowan wants to help, if it’s cool with you.”
“Hell yes. I’ll take all the help I can get. Meet me at the coffee shop, North and Twenty-Fifth. Five thirty?”
“Sure.” I turn to Rowan. “You’re in. We’re leaving here at five fifteen in the morning. Don’t be late.”
She lifts her arm from the blankets and gives a thumbs-up.
I turn away from her and face my wall. “We’re going to figure this out,” I say, softer.
He’s quiet. I picture him in his bed, nodding.
“Jules,” he whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
I smile. “Sure.”
“Jules?”
“Yeah?”
“I wish you were here with me so I could hold you.”
My eyes close and a wave of longing rises through me. I remember middle school and my Sawyer pillow. “Hold your pillow. Pretend it’s me. I’m here. Right here with you.”
I hear a muffled sound like he’s actually doing what I suggested, which almost brings tears to my eyes, because what guy does that?
“Jules,” he says once more.
“Yeah?” I say again.
He’s quiet for a long time. And then he says, “I’m really very insanely much in love with you.”
And I can’t speak, because this big ball of tears and air is blocking my words, and finally I sniffle and I manage to squeak out, “That is the best thing anybody has ever said to me, ever. And I am insanely really very much in love with you, too.”
We sit on the phone all quiet for a minute.
And then, from below Rowan’s pillow, a snicker.
I freeze. And she snorts.
I twist around. “Oh my God, Rowan, shut up, I hate you!” I grab my pillow and chuck it at her head, but her bed doesn’t stop shaking until after Sawyer and I hang up.
In the morning I stumble out of bed at four thirty and kick Rowan in the butt to wake her up. Trey is just emerging from the steamy bathroom when I get there, and he looks at me with surprise.
“What’s up?” he whispers. “You going with us?” I tell him Rowan’s discovery and our latest plan. He gets out of my way so I can take a quick shower. Forty-eight minutes later we three are headed out into the darkness.
When we get to the coffee shop, Sawyer’s got a table staked out and is leaning over his laptop. We join him.
I look at Rowan. “Spinach-and-feta wrap and a tall coffee, blacker than black,” I say.
Rowan nods primly and turns to Sawyer. “May I take your order?”
He gets a cute puzzled grin on his face. “Iced coffee and a sausage-and-egg sandwich.” He reaches for his wallet.
Rowan puts her hand out to stop him. “That won’t be necessary,” she says. She looks at Trey. “Well? What would you like?” Her tone is annoyed.
“What’s going on?” Trey asks.
Rowan looks at me.
I shrug. “Tell him.”
She clears her throat, clearly not wanting to tell. “I’m buying everyone breakfast today on account of how I disrespected Jules’s love.”
Sawyer chokes and Trey laughs out loud. “I see. Well, in that case, I’ll have a hot vanilla chai tea, yogurt, and granola. With whipped cream. On everything. And a brownie. And—okay, I guess that’s enough.”
Rowan gives me a condescending sneer and I respond with my superior smile. She goes up to the counter.
Sawyer recovers and starts typing again. I pull my chair closer so I can see, and Trey looks around the other side of him. “There’s a ton of private schools,” he says under his breath.
“The oldest schools might be mostly Catholic around old Chicago,” I say.