Losing Clara

Chapter Two: Three Dots

I didn't think you'd remember me.

Clara smiled before she could stop herself.

How could I forget you?

His reply came fast. You'd be surprised. It's been years.

She leaned back in her chair. He was right — it had been years. Patrick had always been the one talking to someone, making people laugh, never at a loss for something to say. Friendly. Funny. Never especially close, but always around — until life happened, the way it does. A week without talking became a month. A month became a year. And somewhere in there, Patrick had quietly become someone she remembered but no longer expected to hear from. Until today.

Do you remember youth camp? he asked.

Which one?

The one where you complained about waking up at 5 a.m. every morning.

Clara covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. I was not complaining. I was asking a reasonable question.

You asked why God couldn't let us pray at 9 instead.

Susan glanced over. "What are you laughing at?"

Clara turned her phone face-down. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yes."

Susan studied her for a second, then went back to her notes — long enough for Clara's phone to buzz again.

You haven't changed.

How would you know?

Maybe I need to find out.

Clara paused on that one. It felt different from the rest, though she couldn't have said exactly why.

"Clara." The professor's voice cut through the room before she could reply.

She looked up. "Yes?"

"Are you with us?"

"Yes — sorry." A few students laughed quietly. She slid her phone into her bag, cheeks warm.

Susan leaned in. "You're in trouble."

"Please."

"Whoever's texting you better be worth it."

Clara tried to focus on the lecture. She didn't entirely succeed — maybe I need to find out kept surfacing in her thoughts, and she kept pushing it back down, telling herself it was nothing.

When class ended, she pulled her phone out to two new messages.

Are you still around campus?

Yes. Why?

I'm nearby.

She frowned. Where?

Around your campus. A pause, then: I came to see someone. But I didn't expect to see you here too.

I'm always here. I go to school here.

I know.

Then why are you surprised?

Because I didn't plan to see you today; it means I didn't know I'd find you again this soon.

Clara read that one twice. There was something in it she couldn't quite place.

"Ah-ah." Susan was looking at her sideways. Clara locked the phone on reflex.

"You're hiding your phone now?"

"I'm not hiding anything."

"Then why'd you lock it the second I looked?"

"Because you're nosy."

"Who is it?"

"Nobody."

"Again?"

Clara sighed. "Patrick."

Susan's eyebrows shot up. "The Patrick from church? Since when — he's texting you today, and you've been smiling at your phone all morning?"

"You're exaggerating."

"I'm really not." Susan studied her face. "Did he say something?"

"He's around campus. He said he's nearby; I don't know if he actually came here."

"And?"

"And what?"

Before Clara could think of an answer, her phone buzzed again. I'm leaving soon. Maybe next time.

She felt a small, unreasonable drop of disappointment. Maybe, she typed back.

Definitely.

She smiled without meaning to, and Susan caught it immediately. "Oh, you are finished."

"Leave me alone."

"Let's go before you start grinning at your phone in the hallway too."

They walked out together, talk drifting to their next lecture and what to eat when they got back. But Clara's mind kept circling back to one thing: Patrick wasn't just a name from her past anymore. He was somewhere nearby, and he'd come back for a reason.

One more message was waiting when she checked again — and this one wasn't a joke.

I should tell you why I'm really back.

Clara stopped walking.

Susan made it a few more steps before she noticed. "Clara?"

Clara didn't answer. Her eyes were fixed on the screen.

Why are you back? She typed.

The three dots rose. Fell. Rose again.

Then nothing.

She waited. No reply came. For the first time all day, she wasn't smiling — and she had the distinct feeling that whatever brought Patrick back wouldn't be simple.