“I could never. It’s your reward for saving my life.”
“Pretty sure you saved your own life.”
“It was a team effort.” There is a small lull, a not-exactlyunpleasant silence. I find that I can’t quite meet Levi’s gaze, so I glance around. “Are the brownies for me?”
“I wasn’t sure what the food options were.” He wets his lips. “The bag’s for you, too.”
“Oh.” I peek. Inside there’s something wrapped in newspaper. I put it in my lap and start unrolling it. “It’s not Guy’s heart that you cut out of his chest, is it?”
He shakes his head. “I already fed that to Schrödinger.”
“I—” I pause mid-action. “I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine how hard it must be. He’s one of your closest friends, and the fact that he was so jealous of you and Peter is . . .”
“Yeah, I . . . I’ll go talk to him. When it’s been a while and I want to punch him less. But for now . . .” He shrugs. “You should open that.”
I resume. It’s about five layers before I can make out what it is.
“A mug?” I turn it around and break into a grin. “Oh my God, Yoda Best Neuroscientist! You had it made!”
“Look inside, too.”
I do. “A bobblehead? Is this Marie Curie?” I lift it up, grinning. “She’s standing in front of her lab bench! And she’s wearing— This was her wedding gown, did you know that?”
“I didn’t.” He hesitates before adding: “I won this in middle school.
Second place at the science fair. The
beakers she’s holding glow in the dark.”
My smile vanishes slowly. I’m too busy staring at Marie’s pretty face to realize that I’ve heard that science fair story once before. No. No, I didn’t hear it. I read it. On my . . .
My arms fall into my lap. “You know. You know about . .
.”
He nods. “I reviewed the security footage. I didn’t notice at first, but after you wrote that text—I was jogging, by the way, so maybe next time give me fifteen minutes or so before jumping headfirst into danger alone—after your text I looked at the footage more closely. And saw your computer.”
I stare at him. I’m wholly unprepared for this conversation. “I . . .”
“Did you know all along?”
“No.” I shake my hand vehemently. “No, I— The picture. Schrödinger, was— You tweeted it. And then I . . . I had no idea. Before yesterday.”
Levi just leans forward, elbows on his knees, and looks at me patiently.
“Me neither.” He smiles wryly. “Or I wouldn’t have talked about you with you so much.”
“Oh.” I flush as vermillion as a cardinal male at the peak of mating season. My heart thrashes in my chest—also like a cardinal male at the peak of mating season. “Right.” The things he said.
I want to push her against a wall, and I want her to push back.
The.
Things.
He.
Said.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. It’s warranted: I might be in the midst of a cardiac event.
“I—I’m fine. I . . . Have you ever seen You’ve Got Mail?”
“Nope.” He gives me a hesitant look. “Maybe we could watch it together?”
Yes, I want to say. I even open my mouth, but no sound comes out of my stupid, stubborn, petrified vocal box. I try again: nothing. Still nothing. My fingers clench the sheets, and I study the amused, knowing expression in his eyes. Like he fully understands what’s going on inside me.
“Did you know that she used to be a governess? Marie Curie?”
I nod, slightly taken aback. “She had an agreement with her sister. Marie worked as a governess and helped her sister pay for med school. Then, once her sister had a job, they flipped.”
“So you know about Kazimierz Żorawski?”
I tilt my head. “The mathematician?”
“He eventually became one—a good one, too. But initially he was just one of the sons of the family Marie
worked for. He and Marie were the same age, both exceptionally . . .”
