19
CLAIRE
I’m not really sure which is more annoying—Johnny beingeverywhereor Johnny beingnowhere.
When he’s around, he frustrates me. But when he’s not, I can’t seem to take my mind off of him. Especially considering the danger he surrounds himself with. It’s no coincidence he stumbled in one night all beaten up, and then I found him in that alley nearly unconscious a few days later. He’s gotten tangled up with something bad, and it’s clearly a risk to his safety.
So, when he walks out of the bar Saturday night and I don’t see him the rest of the weekend, naturally, I worry.
My mind runs wild with the endless potential scenarios that could have played out. The one that concerns me the most is him ending up dead in a ditch, never to be seen or heard from again. His John Doe body getting lost in the mess of other unsolved homicides.
It’s not my responsibility to make sure he’s okay, yet I can’t help feeling likesomeoneneeds to be concerned about his well-being. I haven’t noticed anyone else coming in or out of his house, meaning he probably lives alone. There was a bedroom door that was shut but it could have been an office or storage. Other than Johnny chatting with Bram, the kid in our building, or that random guy he met at the bar, he’s been alone.
He’s a loner.
What a sad life that must be for him.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m learning that being alone can be great. It’s freeing. Empowering, really. But with Johnny, it feels forced, like deep down it’s not really what he wants. He does it out of necessity. He pushes everyone away.
Why would he do that?
I walk into class and half-expect to see him sitting in that same seat from last week. My heart drops when it’s empty. I take its companion anyway.
What if something bad really did happen to him? Should I file a missing person’s report? I didn’t exactly go over to his place and knock on the door. He could be inside laying low for all I know. Maybe I’ll check in with Bram and ask if Johnny has been in lately. There has to be some reasonable explanation for his absence.
Professor Brown clears her throat and pulls a stack of papers from her backpack. “Class. Let’s begin.” She glides to the front row and distributes them throughout. “Pass these back,” she tells each of them.
The students do what they’re asked while settling into their chosen seats.
“Group project time. If you read the syllabus, you already know this will account for thirty percent of your grade in this class.” Her heels click against the floor.
A collective gasp floats around the room at the oblivious pupils hearing this for the first time.
"The assignment is simple, really. All of the details are listed on the packet you've been provided. Put in the work, get a passing grade. Slack and you fail. Both partiesmustparticipate. This will not be a one-sided effort. And trust me, I’ll be able to tell.” She leans against her desk, and continues, “Part of this whole college experience is to learn how to work together with others. Here is your opportunity.”
The door creaks open and my breath hitches.
It’s him. It’s Johnny. In the flesh. Looking ragged but very freaking alive.
A figurative weight lifts from my shoulders and my body relaxes.
“Mr. Jones, have a seat.” Her voice is laced with irritation.
His green eyes flicker in my direction and then settle on the open seat a few spots away. He slides into it and eases into the chair.
A tinge of disappointment courses through me, and I bite my lip to ground myself.
He’s not dead, don’t ask for anything else, Claire.
The professor keeps explaining the assignment. “I’ve decided to take things into my own hands and assign the partners for this project, basing it on a balanced skill level you two will share. I utilized those assessments you took on day one and matched you appropriately. I tried this last semester and it resulted in the highest success rate I’ve had for a course in all my years.”
The class quiets down and anxious energy fills the room at the realization that the partnerships have already been decided.
“I’ll go ahead and get started. When I call your name, please remain seated. Once I’ve gotten through the list, you may relocate with your partner and begin discussing your strategy. You’re free to leave, but I’ll be staying until the end of the session if anyone has any questions. I have office hours following this period, too.” She glances around the room and latches onto a sheet of paper on her desk. “Okay, then.”
I scan the backs of heads and sides of faces, wondering which of these strangers I'll be paired up with. The bubbly girl with the thick-rimmed glasses catches my eye. She always smiles at me when I walk by. Or the curly-headed boy who looks like he skipped a few years in high school to get here. Either of them would be fine with me.
I don't dare glance to my right, not in his direction. There's about a one in thirty chance we'll be stuck together, and I'm hoping like hell it's anyone but him.