to understand the nuances of the language, but nihil is a defective noun.”
“Something’s wrong with it?”
“Nihil doesn’t decline like a normal noun; it only has a nominative and accusative. In the first clause, nihil is acting as the direct object of the infinitive relinquere.…” There’s more of an explanation—there always is with the accusative case—but he’s scratching his head, lost.
“You’re sure? It means ‘leave nothing behind’—”
“No, ‘to leave nothing behind.’ It’s an order, not just a thing someone does. It’s a thing someone wants to do or is ordered to do. Very subtle nuance, but there is a difference.”
He nods.
“So what is it? Song lyrics? A poem? Secret code?” On the last guess, I swear he pales.
“I’m doing a favor for a friend,” he says after a beat.
That’s a weird favor. “Anyone I know?”
“Doubtful.” He rolls the paper into a ball. I’m mesmerized by his hands; they might be the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen. Blunt-tipped, long, lean, strong, tanned.
After a moment, he slips the napkin ball into his jacket pocket and his gaze moves from me to the window behind me. Once again, I can swear something shifts in his expression and body language. Just like that, he seems … taut.
Without thinking, I turn just in time to catch a dark pickup truck pulling out of the lot.
I whip around and look at him. “Do you know who that is?”
“Who who is?”
“That truck.”
He frowns. “I didn’t see a truck.” Suddenly, he stands, grabbing the coffee. “I gotta go, Mack. Thanks for the Latin assist.”
The abruptness throws me, like everything he says and does, but I stand, too. “Okay.” I glance at the parking lot again. I don’t like the idea of walking in the dark with that pickup out there. A familiar sensation rolls through me.
Familiar enough that I shake it off. I will not be ruled by fear. Yes, I could ask Levi for a ride home, but something stops me. Probably how fast he’s moving to get out of here. And if he wanted to give me a ride, wouldn’t he offer?
His gaze slips to the window again before he starts to walk away. I slowly sit back down, trying to process this one-eighty change in him. Was it the translation? The truck? Me?
Pausing at the trash receptacle near the door, he tosses in the coffee cup. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the balled-up napkin, flipping it into the recycling bin.
He turns and winks. “See ya, Kenzie.”
The name—the one I said I wanted him to use—sounds hollow. I guess I liked Mack after all. It’s … unaffected and straightforward and not quite what you’d expect.
Just like him.
I watch him disappear into the darkness. But I don’t move, still baffled by everything, including an attraction I don’t want to feel. But mooning over some cute guy is not why I’m sitting here, I finally admit.
I’m scared of the blasted truck.
I hate that. I hate it so much I almost take off, but I can’t. Finally, my phone rings with a text. When I see Molly’s name with a “how’s it going” note, I could cry. I text her back and ask her to pick me up, and she promises to be here in ten minutes.
While I wait, I scroll through my Facebook feed, thinking about all these “friends.” The number has nearly doubled, but I have to remember there’s only one real friend who’d jump off her bed on a Sunday night and give me a ride home.
Everyone is still talking about Saturday’s amazing party. A few are posting memories and comments about poor Olivia. Chloe Batista is bragging about how she makes a cool fifty bucks for watering somebody’s houseplants while they’re on vacation, which is just a tacky thing to post to the world. Josh sent me a private message saying he’s thinking about me and that I made a great impression on his grandfather.
I almost laugh at how different my Facebook page looks just days after I landed on the list. How can one thing change people’s opinions so fast?
When I see Molly’s VW pull in, I get up and walk to the door, but as I get closer to the trash, I simply can’t resist. With a glance around at the almost empty Starbucks, I grab the napkin from the top of the recycling bin and stuff it into my pocket.
Nihil Relinquere et Nihil Vestigi
I’m just following the instructions on the napkin.
CHAPTER XIV
It’s warm in Molly’s