Shift by Bradbury Jennifer

Author:Bradbury, Jennifer [Bradbury, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published: 2010-06-22T03:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“And thus, the coefficient of the variable is indeterminable,” my calculus professor said from the front of the room. I wasn’t paying attention—even though this had become a favorite class. Not because I was that big of a math geek, but because Dr. Noelle Liston was young, funny, and way more beautiful than a PhD in math had a right to be.

But even her looks couldn’t keep me committed to math today. My mind wandered back to the postcard that I’d been carrying around for the last couple days. I reached into the front pocket of my backpack, slid it out, and reread it for the hundredth time. Two days had passed since Mr. Coggans’s visit. I hadn’t heard from him or Ward.

And as if it weren’t enough that I was freaked out about all of this, my anger and jealousy of Win had grown. The muscles I’d discovered over the summer were atrophying as I applied my mind to theoretical physics, while Win was probably riding centuries to drop off a lousy postcard. Once I realized it was from Win, I did so many push-ups and chin-ups in my dorm room that my arms throbbed the next morning. It was a stupid way I tried to punish him, when he didn’t even have a chance to compete. But it was all I had. Any relief I’d felt at knowing Abe Ward was wrong was flooded away by the knowledge that Win was still out there riding—happy. Meanwhile, I was busting tail at school and dealing with his dad.

People around me started to twitch as the class drew to a close. “Don’t forget to do the sample problems for Tuesday,” Dr. Liston shouted above the din.

I slammed shut a book that easily equaled the weight of all my gear on the bike trip and shoved it into my bag as I headed for the door.

Outside I found a familiar face awaiting me.

“Hey,” I said without breaking stride.

“Nice to see you, too, Chris,” Ward said as he fell into step beside me. Today he looked like he could be a nontraditional student—dressed casually in jeans and a polo. No gun.

“I’ve got to go change for work,” I said.

“But you don’t work on Thursdays,” he said, reminding me he had my schedule—my life—in that little notebook I’d seen him jotting things in.

“I switched shifts with a guy. He’s taking mine right before Labor Day so I can leave earlier,” I said.

“Ah,” he muttered.

I shoved open the door. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“Have you heard from Win?” he asked me. I stopped walking.

“No,” I lied, shaking my head and trying to look surprised by the question. The postcard felt like it might burst into flame at any moment. I realized even as I said these words that I was protecting Win for one reason only: habit. “I thought you figured he was, you know, unreachable.”

He shrugged. “Just a theory. There are other possibilities to consider. Leads to pursue.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I’m really not at liberty to say,” he said.

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