It was 6 in the morning, and Darcy had not slept a wink. She had spent the entire night organizing Karl’s papers. The rush of Adrenaline had kept her energized enough, and it was only 2 hours before her morning lectures that she felt sleepy. She looked at the 3 bundles of papers stacked apart from each other. Karl had apparently written two novellas and a journal. She hadn’t managed to read all of them, as she was focused more on organizing the papers than exploring them. She had read one of the novellas, however, which was entitled “Distance,” because of its intriguing title. It was very decent in terms of style, though also quite visibly the work of an amateur. The plot centered on a man who could never cross the road to the other side, on which stood the woman who would be the love of his life. At first she was flattered to think that the story was a metaphor for Karl’s own attraction towards her, but the more she read of it, the more somber she felt. The language itself was very simplistic, but it carried underneath its words an oppressive darkness that made Darcy shiver multiple times throughout the book. She shot one satisfied glance at her work before she started getting ready to go out.
Darcy drank 3 cups of coffee. Rather than warding off sleep from her eyes, the caffeine only quickened her heart rate and made her hands tremble. As soon as the professor began talking, Darcy’s head slammed to the desk and she doze off. She had a dream of standing on the sidewalk on a very rainy day. There was a man across the street staring at her. He had no face, but he was smiling. When she woke up, the class was empty but for a boy typing aggressively on his computer. She could hear the keyboard clacking from six rows away. Rubbing her eyes, she looked at her phone. She had slept through two lectures, unnoticed. Darcy was genuinely impressed at herself and at her luck. Her whole body whined when she got up from her chair and walked out.
Darcy decided that she would just head home. In this condition, she wouldn’t be able to focus even if she did attend, so it was pointless. As she fantasized about her warm bed inviting her lusciously into its cozy embrace, her eyes fell upon Quinn, who was, again, with a group of people. Darcy wondered if he spends any time alone. She laughed mentally at the thought of him sharing his bathroom time with other people. Extroverts are aliens, she concluded, looking away.
“Darcy!” Having noticed her, Quinn dashed towards Darcy with his usual bright smile. This time, he had his hair tied into a short ponytail, with beige side-bangs falling smoothly across his flawless skin. He had light makeup on, which went too well with his outfit. Darcy frowned. Even if he was a boy, he was still too pretty for her liking. She made a mental note to ask him about his strange orientation towards feminine clothing later.
“Hey.” She muttered, and it was the first word she had spoken today. Her voice sounded dry and tired.
“You okay? You have bags under your eyes.” Quinn seemed genuinely concerned.
“Yeah, just had an all-nighter, that’s all.” She instinctively lowered her hoodie to hide her face. Quinn noticed this but chose not to comment about it.
“Because of Karl?” He inquired in a somewhat grave voice.
“Yeah. He has two novellas, uhm short novels that is, and a journal. I’ve only read one novella.” A yawn forced its way to her mouth and she hid it with her hand. Quinn’s silence urged her to give more details. “In the one work that I read, there doesn’t seem to be any hint as to why or how he disappeared. It’s just a dark-themed love story, I guess. A pretty good one, though. But maybe I’ll get a clearer picture after I finish all of them.”
“Oh, I see. I’ll stop by later in the evening. Tell me about it more then.” With that, Quinn walked back to his friends, leaving Darcy slightly puzzled. He seemed a little bit upset. Was that her imagination? Was it because she hadn’t read them all? She knew it was urgent, but she literally spent the entire night on them. She couldn’t possibly have done anymore than that. Sighing to herself, she walked away. Quinn watched her leave from a distance.
As soon as she returned to her room, Darcy fell asleep. She slept for no less than 6 hours, and woke up at the sound of knocking on the door. She took a few moments to locate herself in the current space and time before she hurriedly jumped to the door. She opened it apologetically, and was somewhat surprised to find Quinn there.
“Huh? Quinn? Wait, what time is it?” She glanced at the window across the hall, and noticed that the sky was dark blue.
“Ah,” Quinn looked at his phone. “It’s almost seven. I am guessing you were asleep. Sorry for waking you up.”
“No, uh, it’s fine. It’s good that you woke me up, or I would have slept for the entire day. Anyway, come in, it’s a mess, though.”
The two walked inside room 50, and Darcy turned on the lights. Sitting on the bed, Quinn noticed that the sheets were still warm. He watched Darcy as she brought the three bundles of paper. She placed them neatly next to him, and began explaining:
“This is the novella I read. It’s called “Distance.” It’s about a man trying to cross a road to finally talk with his lover.” She fell silent for a moment to allow him the time to absorb the implications of this plot. Quinn smiled politely, signaling her to continue. She sat next to him on the other side, with the said novella in her hand. She opened it to a bookmarked page: “Like I told you this morning, I don’t think there’s any hint in here, but,” she pointed at a paragraph. “Here, the narrator talks about how the protagonist wishes he could float away. Honestly, it wouldn’t be that far-fetched to assume that Karl wrote this while self-inserting, but it can also be just a simple metaphor about how much the protagonist wants to go to that other side.”
“Did he mention any places?” Quinn’s question seemed to trigger something in Darcy as her hazel eyes lit up.
“I searched for any names, actually. But Karl’s writing seems to be trying to avoid naming anything. Even the characters have no names, let alone places. He refers to them as ‘the man’ or ‘the woman,’ ‘the road,’ etc.”
“He’s sure making this difficult...” Quinn muttered, sighing.
“That’s the thing,” Darcy continued, “it’s like he doesn’t want the book to be read or something... everything is so obscure and unlabeled, that at the end you get the feeling that you didn’t read anything at all.”
“I see...” Quinn gazed at her in admiration. She seemed so passionate as she talked about Karl’s book. It reminded him of Karl himself, and how his eyes would brighten up whenever he talked about Darcy. They really suit each other... He sighed a second time, and leaned his face on his palm and elbow on his knee. Seeing him look dejected, Darcy added:
“Don’t give up yet, Quinn! I’ve only read one work, and only once. I am sure we’ll find something after I finish them all thoroughly.” Although she didn’t know it herself, Darcy was quite visibly excited. This sight planted a smile across Quinn’s face. He reached out his hand and ruffled her hair. This unexpected gesture shocked her beyond words. She hadn’t been touched this affectionately by a non-relative in years. She tried not to show it though, and clumsily turned the pages of the book.
“A-anyway, we should probably check the journal together, at least.” She got up and walked back to the other side where the journal and the second work were placed. “It feels kinda weird to be reading his private life. I mean, I don’t even know him.” She then handed him the diary with pressed lips. “Would you read it out loud? As his friend, you’re much more entitled to do it than I am.” Quinn smiled gratefully as he gently took the book from her hands.
“The more time I spend with you, the more I understand why he likes you so much.” He commented, unaware of the impact his words made on Darcy. She turned away to hide her embarrassment and went to fetch her notebook.
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