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everything and waltz around like everything's fine. Especially concerning me.

You should have known that.”

Lucius nodded. “I suppose not. But I'm sure you'll have other chances.”

Peter laughed and stood. “Chances? Chances for what? You think just

because you orchestrate some lame attempt at getting us together bluebirds are going to pop up and start circling around our heads the moment we see each other? Besides, Kate's different now. She's successful, driven—”

“Pretty.”

“Of course, she's pretty. She's always been pretty.”

Lucius's eyebrows raised, but he said nothing.

Peter continued. “Her home is in Chicago, now. She's not interested in what

goes on in Podunk, Iowa anymore. She's just here to do her job and then go.

Which I'm more than happy to let her do.”

“She's interested enough to be here.”

Peter waved his hand. “That's just for work. When she's done, she's back in

Chicago with her job, and her suit-wearing co-workers and her downtown

apartment.”

“Oh, c'mon, Peter. I've known both of you since high school. Well, you, mostly. And I could see how you looked at her in the diner.”

“I looked at her with…interest. Like someone I hadn't seen in twelve years

after someone I thought was my friend practically shoved her into me.”

“With interest? We're talking about a woman, not a bank.”

Peter's eyes squinted. “And what do you mean 'in' the diner? You weren't 'in'

the diner.”

More throat clearing. “Well, I just happened to look in. When I passed by.”

“Mm-hmm. And how long were you 'passing by'?”

Lucius shifted his weight on the desk. “Did I mention it was Carol's idea?”

Peter pushed his chair under his desk and gathered some papers to leave.

“Yes, you did, and this conversation is over.”

“Okay, okay.” Lucius splayed his hands out. “I'm sorry.”

“Fine. Now can we—”

“So, do you know when you're going to see her again?”

Peter dropped the papers and sighed. “Let me explain this to you in a way that might penetrate your obviously over-curious brain. Kate is the north pole of

the magnet; I'm the south pole. Kate is vinegar; I'm baking soda. Kate is water,

and I'm hydrophobic.” He cocked his head. “Any of this getting through?”

Lucius, smiling rose from the desk and put his hands in his pockets. “You always have to get so scientific about everything.”

“Well, I am a chemist.” Peter began stacking some papers. “Sometimes it's

the only way to make sense of things. You should know that.”

“So you don't have any feelings for Kate whatsoever?”

Feelings? How could he? They'd barely spoken ten words all of senior year,

beyond the first, feeble attempts on his part to apologize. But that had fallen flat quickly. From there it was just eye contact and a few “hi's” until graduation separated them forever. Until now.

Feelings? “No. I want her to succeed in life. I want her to be happy. I want

her to do well in her job. Which she seems to do very well, by the way.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“You're obviously not convinced.”

Lucius pulled at the corner of his mustache. “No, no, I'm sure that explains

all those questions you've asked Carol over the years. About Kate.”

Peter looked up. “What?”

“Yes, like, 'How's Katie been doing?' or 'Heard anything from Katie lately?'

or—”

Peter's face grew stony. “She told you?”

“Now, don't get angry. You live in a small town, remember? Everything gets

around.”

Are sens