Something is wrong with Nolan. Clara is sure of it. He acted strangely up on the roof with her last night. He left this morning without saying good-bye and now he's actively avoiding her. Clara should confront him. She doesn't deserve to be ignored and even though she's promised herself she will not inhibit him on his living, breathing path, this doesn't mean she should take his crap.
Clara spends the day at the bottom of the pool. There are no guests swimming today and really, the manager should have had Nolan drain the water out of it a week ago. Clara is grateful for the manager's surprising lack of diligence. The cold doesn't bother her, and while she's down here, it's easier to pretend nothing else does either.
In the evening, Clara waits for Nolan by the rooftop hatch, but he doesn't show. She searches the hotel for him, looking everywhere except the spot she's most certain he will be. Finally, she goes outside of his room and waits. She can't very well call out to him, but she could try knocking—he might be able to hear it, just as he was able to hear her keys jingling.
Clara could also open his door and walk right in, but she doesn't. She doesn't knock and she doesn't open the door. If Nolan needs to be alone, then she will respect that. There will be another occasion for her to face him and lament his behavior.
After a while, Clara leaves. She goes as far as she can from Nolan's room, pacing the length of the hotel's property. If she could, she would go further. Right now. She would walk into town, get dinner or catch a movie or go bowling. Clara has always wanted to bowl.
She can't bowl, though, or go into town or even eat, much less eat at a restaurant. She is stuck here with the day and night managers and the exhausted maids and the overly cheery guests. She is stuck here and Nolan knows it. No wonder he no longer wants to be her friend. Why would he want anything to do with her pathetic existence?
Clara wishes she could scream. She wishes she could yell and have the whole world hear. She can't scream but she can cry and so she does. When the flood waters have retreated from her eyes, she climbs the stairs to the rooftop, makes up her bed, and sleeps.
When she wakes in the morning, he is lying next to her, his eyes shut to the world.