Martin feels like he needs to do a double-take just to make sure he isn’t just imagining her return. “Back already?” he asks, genuinely surprised. “I’m not one for records, but I think that’s a new personal best what you just did there!”

The most Jocelyn can muster is, “Oh, well…nice!”

At that, he raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

Though he says this with sincerity, Jocelyn finds it a little hard to believe that he can’t at least guess what’s bothering her. That in mind, she sighs and asks, “How’d you guess? Is it something to do with my mannerisms or tone of voice—or maybe something having to do with me not looking you in the eye?”

“No, I can tell something’s wrong because you have dirt all over your butt.”

Flinching, Jocelyn looks down at her bottom and realizes he’s right. How the hell did I—? She can’t even finish the silent sentence; the fact that it never crossed her mind to wipe herself after that fight left her dumbstruck. Even so, now that she had knowledge of this dirt on her pants, wiping it off wasn’t going to work; it was a little too ingrained into the fabric at this point; part of her wishes she’d thrown these pants in with all the other clothes she’d just started cleaning.

When enough silence passes, Martin prods further, “Did something happen?”

Where earlier she clenched a fist at the thought of what had happened back at school, Jocelyn could only sigh and nod. “Yes, actually—something between me and a couple of the girls at school.” She pauses for a moment, as if expecting Martin to beckon her forward—but instead of waiting any longer than necessary, she continues.

“They straight-up asked me to come to you for information on the whole Robbins thing. They thought you would know if the MRF had found him.”

She pauses again—though this time Martin cuts in. “Well, just so they know: they haven’t. I think the MRF would’ve gone to the press if they found information on his whereabouts.”

At that, Jocelyn can’t help but sigh. “That’s just the thing: Elizabeth and Rachelle—those two who were interrogating me—they’re so willing to believe that everything the officials say is fake and the only way to fix things is to find the answers for themselves through underground tunnels…or something like that. It’s just so stupid—assuming everything the local news team says is lies.

“At some point they started asking about MRF’s helicopters—as if that’s—”

“Excuse me?” Martin interjects. “You wrote about the helicopters in your diary?!”

Hearing the volume of his voice increase so suddenly makes Jocelyn flinch. “N-no…no I didn’t…they just assumed that the MRF…you know…had them.” Almost immediately after uttering those words, it dawns on her: Wait, so the MRF does have helicopters? She feels like asking Martin, but the stern look on his face tells her he’s not playing around right now.

“Are you sure?” He’s definitely not playing.

Just to keep her vision straight, Jocelyn blinks a few times and nods. “Yeah—I didn’t even know there were helicopters at the MRF.”

Oh shit, Martin’s probably thinking right now. Where before he was starting to go red with annoyance, now he’s going red with embarrassment.

At this point Jocelyn would have continued her story, but she had a feeling he could guess what happened afterward. It’s only after hearing a ring from Mrs. Taylor in her head when she speaks again—though, admittedly, the subject matter is quite embarrassing for her.

“Anyway,” she begins, getting the feeling that her neighbor wants to spin the subject around as quick as possible, “I think I’m finally gonna have to give in to what you’ve been telling me about the whole—" She seems to choke on the word for a moment. "—tutor thing.”

It takes him a moment to register what she just said. “Oh—right, about that…”

Oh no, Jocelyn quietly grumbles. There’s always some minor detail I’ve overlooked.

“…I wish you'd told me this earlier, because I think as of this Monday, the tutors over at the MRF have closed their program. Why don't you ask Andrew, though?"

Hearing her brother's name in this context makes her cringe. "Well, for one thing he's not home right now—and for another, I really don't want to talk to him about tutor-related stuff."

"Why not?" The way Martin says it comes off so neutral that Jocelyn can't make it out like he's attacking her if she tries.

Honestly, she feels like he should know by now why it would be a bad idea to talk to Andrew about this kind of stuff. "He just...makes everything awkward. It'll be weird even talking about it, since I've never had a tutor before. Plus, if I do start getting help from a tutor, it'll just...drag me down to his level."

Here's the part where Martin has to backpedal. "What do you mean by that?"

The fact that man she's talking to is far from a punk she'd find at school means she's way more comfortable with explaining herself to him, but the subject matter is still not something she'd want to speak about with anyone—even Martin. Still, Jocelyn figures she has something of a debt to pay after the recent debacle with her journal, so she takes a deep breath and says, "It's because I remember he had to take tutors back in the day and it took him forever to see any progress. I'm just worried I'll be as slow as he was and that it'll be too late by the time the year is over."

Martin shakes his head. "I don't think that'll be the case if we get a tutor for you. You're a lot more diligent than he was when he first got tutoring assistance."

Where normally she would be humbled to hear someone give her these sort of nodding compliments, she can't take them now. "It just sucks cause after I start getting this help, I don't think anyone will be able to say I'm smart anymore." As she says this, she looks down at the floor and rests a cheek on her palm. "May as well get an 'I'm with stupid' t-shirt when you're with me now."

"Oh, come on now!" Martin interjects, his tone suggesting a sliver of disappointment. "Your brother needed tutoring and he's not stupid."

That's debatable.

"Just ask him about it, if you're that curious about who will be available. Andrew can talk to the tutors at the MRF about their availability and see if there's someone there for you. You don't even have to go all in after asking, so just talking to them about their availability won't hurt anyone here.

"The only reasons I say the MRF tutors probably aren't available anymore is because the program callouts were Monday and a lot of the workers are occupied with those stupid turrets they're setting up around town."

At that, Jocelyn flinches. "Wait a sec—turrets? Um...I didn't know about turrets."

"All the adults do," Martin says. "Haven't you heard that noise by the canyon? Those are the engineers working on turrets to help with the town's defense."

Now that he's mentioned it, the grinding noises she sometimes hears in the distance when she's trying to sleep suddenly make a lot more sense. "Oh—right. But you're sure what you just told me about the turrets isn't another one of those secrets the MRF would like to keep under wraps?"

"I'm sure it isn't. If the whole town can hear those noises, someone must've picked up that there's something being built. And in any case, there's no way the MRF hasn't already told the press about this now; if I watched cable news, I would've seen the report on it."

Talk of cable news makes Jocelyn snort at the thought of what Elizabeth or Rachelle would have to say about it. "I bet Elizabeth would think the noises are the helicopters being built."

Martin chuckles, "Well, the only problem with that statement is the helicopters actually exist."

With a fake gasp, Jocelyn exclaims, "Wah—really? What are you talking about, Martin?"

It takes him a moment to catch on to her game. "Oh...I'm talking about the toy helicopters. Yeah—the people at the MRF really need some toys."

As they continue joking with each other, Jocelyn's already about to make her way out the door. "So that's where all the toy charity money goes, then?"

Before Martin can answer, the phone at his desk suddenly rings. With a smile, he waves a temporary goodbye to Jocelyn, knowing she'll be back within a half-hour or so.

Jocelyn waves back and slips through the door—but not before hearing Martin's phone (on speaker) with the man on the other side asking:

Dr. Leigh, we are looking for the file you put here about ten years ago. Do you remember the name of this theory you came up with? It had to do with an antimatter conversion hypothesis and finding the "spark of life" in antimatter.

Right there is another thing she isn’t supposed to hear. Immediately after closing the door, she lets out a sigh and places a scowl on her face. Goddammit, Martin, she wants to tell him, imagining what would have happened if someone had walked by and caught wind of the man’s speaker. Even with her recent instructions to never write about anything relating to the MRF, Jocelyn gets the feeling that everyone will find out what’s happening over at the facility just by taking a close listen to the inside of his house.

It would certainly come as a surprise to many if it had been discovered that the bombs tests carried out on a regular basis are actually antimatter tests—as opposed to nuclear ones. Jocelyn herself can recall how shocked she was to find out that the bombs were made from antimatter—but once Martin explained everything to her (like how the MRF itself is named after a famous antiparticle), everything clicked in her head. At that point, she’d just assumed it was the kids who believed the bombs were nuclear—so like a kid who just found out about the truth of Santa Claus, she went out of her way to tell some kids that the bombs were made from antimatter.

And of course, the majority of those she told just ended up laughing at her. “Antimatter doesn’t exist yet,” they would say. “It’s all nuclear, stupid!” Even the teachers found themselves—at the very least—confused by her bold claims.

It wasn’t until the whole controversy with Brian Robbins started when she finally shut up about antimatter for awhile. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop a few punks from raiding her journal a few days afterward.