With all of our new information on concrete canoes and the physics that I definitely still did not understand, Ryan and I finally had something to bring to Isabel. It wasn't what she wanted, and it probably wasn't even what she needed, but it was something, and that was all I needed.

Ryan gathered everyone for a group photo just as we were about to leave as I tried to come up with the best way to present this information to Isabel. We're helping Courtney in a roundabout way, and isn't that what would be best for her? That was convincing to me, but I wasn't sure it would be enough for the HBIC.

"Thank you all so much for talking to us about what you do here. We'll get the word out there and see if we can find anyone who might be able to take Courtney's place here," Ryan said, and I waved as we left to write up a quick something to give to Isabel.

"So what do you think?" Ryan asked as we shut the door behind us.

"Well, it's something, at least. Maybe Isabel will know where we should take this story," I replied.

"You know exactly the direction she's going to want this to go, Layla," he said.

I nodded. "I'm out of ideas, Ryan. I don't know. I used to think that it was easy to keep cranking out good, honest content, but the more I do this, the more I agree that maybe it'd be easier to turn the Badger Times into TMZ."

"But we don't really have enough celebrities around here to make that idea work—"

"Oh my god, Ryan. Can I just vent for half a second?"

He didn't reply right away. I wasn't sure if he was thinking about something or giving me a little time and space to vent, but I was done now. Neither one of us spoke for a moment as we passed several snow-covered buildings on our way back.

He must have been thinking, though, because he was the one who broke the silence between us. "You know, there are some mental health resources here on campus. You're obviously not doing super well right now, and I'm trying to help, but I don't think I have the education for it."

"You cannot be serious right now," I mumbled.

"I'm being so serious. You've always been uptight as long as I've known you, but ever since you and Corey broke up, you've been different."

I stopped in my tracks, and I took a glance at the boot prints behind us. "How different?"

"Well, you just said that you're thinking about taking the easy way out, and that's not you, Layla," he said.

My eyes stung from the bitter cold wind. He was right. That wasn't me, even if I was just letting whatever passing thoughts I had out of my mind and into the world.

"And you didn't even go to the semifinal game because you didn't want to see—"

I shook my head and interrupted Ryan before he could point out more true criticisms of me. "You're right."

"And maybe in your mind, we just work together, but with as much time as we spend around each other, I don't think that's all. I think I know you well enough to know that you're not okay right now," he said.

"I don't think we're just coworkers, Ryan. We're friends."

"That's not the part that you were supposed to respond to," he said.

But instead of responding to his analysis of my well-being (or a lack thereof), I picked my feet back up and headed for the English building. We had an article to write, after all.

"Layla," Ryan said as he followed right behind me.

"Yes?"

"That was super rude."

It certainly was, but I shrugged and kept trekking. "I have more important things to worry about than my mental health."

"So you're just going to ignore everything I just said?"

I shook my head. "I'm not ignoring it. See?" I pulled my recorder out of my coat pocket. "Note to self: drink a warm beverage to solve all of your problems later."

I put it back in my pocket, and a small laugh snuck out of Ryan.

"That's not funny," he said.

And maybe it wasn't, but it didn't make what I said any less true. There were a million items on my plate, and there were billions of people in the world who didn't have anything close to what I had. I had a family who cared about me, a clear path in life, access to good education, just enough money to afford what I needed, and a whole entire friend. How did life get any better than that?

I was okay with the rest of our walk being in silence, but Ryan didn't have a quiet bone in his body and struck up a new conversation. "How's your mom doing now that you're back in school?"

"She's okay. She really hates that I have to drive over there to give her her medicine when it's dark outside, but it is what it is," I said with a slight shrug. "It's either that or the MS takes over her mind and body even faster."

He nodded. "I guess that's true. It's really nice of you to do that for her."

That was a nice thing to ask and say, but it wasn't exactly a great conversation topic, so I changed the subject. "How's your family back in Sedona?"

He gave the same little shrug that I did. "They're fine."

I noticed that when I asked him about his winter break, he told me all about the new PlayStation he got instead of a single person he saw, but this was even weirder than that. Ryan wasn't a two-word answer kind of guy, and it was probably a good thing he chose to get his thousands of words in with pictures instead of written.

"Who got you the PlayStation for Christmas?" I asked.

"I can't really remember. I was with so much family over break—"

I interrupted him. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but you have to remember who bought you an expensive game console."

He lowered his voice so it was just audible over the Wisconsin winter wind. "I got it for myself."

"You spent Christmas by yourself in Sedona, didn't you?"

He shook his head. "Not by myself. Just with some high school friends."

I nodded slowly. In the past, he had mentioned his mom hating several of his habits (which was completely fair on her part), but maybe there was more to that story than I originally thought.

I still didn't have a great idea for Isabel, but I sure had a new side investigation for myself.

"And is that what you wanted?" I asked.

"Well, yeah." He took his hands out of his coat pockets to open up the door to the building for us, and in that moment, it was time to switch from Investigator Layla to Writer Layla.

I poked my head into Isabel's open office door, but she wasn't inside to talk.

"Huh. She's usually here by now, isn't she? Or am I thinking about last semester?" I asked myself out loud.

Ryan shrugged but didn't say anything. I must have really done something to him by asking about his Sedona Christmas.

"Well, I guess I can just leave my notes on her desk that summarize where we want to go with that article," I said. "I kind of wanted to sell it in person, but this will be fine."

Ryan didn't have anything to add to that either, and I set my notes down with an additional Post-It with a clear direction and connection to the story she really wanted from me.

I turned and looked up at Ryan. I wasn't sure if I had a reason to apologize, but the words came out of my mouth anyway. "I'm really sorry."

He shook his head. "What are you saying sorry for?"

I didn't know, but it sure was funny how quickly we switched places in our uncomfortable honesty.

Maybe that was why we were friends in the first place. We could lie and be fine, and the other would never call it out. And now that we were calling it out, we were stuck in an awkward silence we only made worse with more words.

------------------------------------------

Hello! Thank you so much for your patience on this story! I absolutely had to finish 33 Things, and then my job got really crazy. (Go into STEM, they said. You can save the environment, they said. It'll be fun, they said.)

But anyway, what is the best snack to have while watching a movie?

I will die on the hill that it is not popcorn, since that is way too loud and crunchy for watching a movie. Personally, I don't like eating during a movie, but I definitely need a sugary drink to sip on. Then when I get to a boring part of the movie, I can go pee. It's all about proper planning.