The Search for Juno

Chapter XXXVIII

One year later

"This doesn't make any sense to me."

    Alex shot Angie a brief sideways glance, confirmed that she was indeed working on physics homework, and looked away again. "I can't help you," he said, pushing his hair, which was now long enough to meet his shoulders, from his face. "I don't speak nerd."

    They were camped out on the eastern side of the university, beneath a spotty array of tropical palm trees and beside the bike racks. It was early fall, not that Nevada seemed to care, as Angie was mopping sweat from her forehead every few seconds and the air vibrated with heat. Not that she'd expected much change in the weather, anyway. That wasn't what she'd come here for.

    Not looking up from her work, Angie said, "Allow me to remind you I keep a sword on me at all times, and that I have sliced numerous things in half with it before."

    Alex leaned his head back against the tree trunk, grinning at her. "Oh, you're adorable when you try to threaten people. How does Clio stand it?"

    "I don't threaten Clio," Angie replied with a harrumph. "I only threaten people who deserve it."

    "Actually, speaking of Clio," Alex said, hopping to his feet. One hand rested on his hip, a finger hooked in the belt loops of his jean shorts. Angie positively abhorred those shorts, as did Conny, and at this point she was sure Alex just wore them to tick everyone off. "You're sure this is going to work?"

    Angie craned her head back, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sudden onslaught of sunlight. Alex sighed and shuffled over a bit. "Oh! Stop, right there is good. Thank you," Angie said. "And yes, I'm sure. It's a surprise party, Al, not rocket science."

    "Considering building rockets is the very thing you are studying to do, you're not allowed to use that idiom."

    "Says who? Are you the idiom police now?"

    "Ah." Alex turned, just as the squeak of tires against asphalt split the air, as did the thundering beat of a Megan Thee Stallion track. "Conny's here."

    Angie gave her homework one last perplexed glance before slipping it into a folder and zipping it away in her backpack. She got to her feet, following Alex to the curb, at which a sleek, dark sedan sat. It was Dolinski's, or had been, but considering returning it would be tedious and the family was now too terrified to mess with any of them anyway, there was no point in giving it back.

    The passenger side rolled down with a quiet whir, the bass suddenly loud enough to make Angie's ears bleed. "Jesus, Conny!" she shouted. "Can you turn that down?"

    Though his eyes were obscured by a pair of dark Ray Bans that were just a tad too big for his face, Angie could nonetheless sense him glaring at her. He reached over, silencing the radio with a click.

    "Thank you," Angie said. She leaned into the door, her arms folded upon the window. "So. Status?"

    Conny nudged his glasses up, blond hair sticking up in messy tufts. "Clio's attending some sort of orientation thing at the shop? She shouldn't be home for another thirty minutes."

    "Good. Hermes?"

    Conny shook his head in clear disdain. "Just got off the phone with him. He's at Wal-Mart."

    "What?" Alex said, climbing into the backseat. "He's supposed to be at home already. Why the hell is he at Wal-Mart?"

    "He forgot balloons. Even though I told him, explicitly, to make sure we had balloons."