I hadn’t even gotten my lunch before Jack pulled me away from it.
“Let’s take a walk,” he said, gesturing me out of the lunch line.
“Am I in trouble? What’s going on?” I asked.
But he waited until we were out back. I thought we’d stay on the patio, but we walked even farther away, beyond all the sound waves from the school.
“I got your email this morning,” he said. He didn’t look too happy about it. “I can’t believe this girl, whoever she is, would do that to you. Is this the first time she’s emailed?”
I shook my head. “There was one other. A picture of Ariel.”
Jack went for a cigarette from his pocket, but came up short.
“Left them in my locker.” He looked at me. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t have one.”
“You are correct,” I said.
“You are correct.” That was something you used to say, and we both knew it. I had gotten that from you.
“Look,” he went on, “I talked to Miranda about this. Last night, even before I got your email. I didn’t tell her everything—she doesn’t need to know everything about Ariel and what happened. But I told her about the photos. And you know what she said? She said, ‘That girl is stalking you and Evan. It’s stalking.’ I guess I knew that, but having her say it made me realize how wrong it was. And you know what? We’ve only been encouraging her by playing along. I know I told you this last time, but now I really mean it—we have to walk away. Or, if you don’t want to think of it as walking away, we have to make her a little scared. Even if you know where the field is in that picture, don’t go there. Stay away. I doubt that will be the last we’ll hear from her. But we’ll get to see what she does when we don’t play along.”
I knew it wasn’t the point, but I said, “You told Miranda?”
We’d reached the bleachers for the football field. There were a couple of people running on the track, but otherwise it was empty. Jack walked up to the top row and sat down. I followed.
Every you, every me. I wondered if Jack was a different Jack with Miranda. I wondered if we all just kept changing, or splitting off. I wondered if I didn’t meet anyone new, if I didn’t talk to anyone else, would I stay the same me?
“What are you thinking, Evan?”
So I told him.
Every you, every me. Fractals. Fractures.
“I wonder who she is now,” I said.
“So do I,” Jack admitted. “All the time.”