Silence reigns as Rove drives. Grace doesn't quite know what to do or say and she doesn't like it. She also doesn't know what's going on with him in the first place and she doesn't like that either. In fact, life as she's known it has completely flipped on her recently and the only part of it that she likes is the part with Geek Boy. Even then, she doesn't like that she likes it because that way lies dependence and she's had enough people dump and/or bail on her up to and including Joan (not that she lets herself dwell on that much) and she thinks that Luke letting her down that badly will be one hurt too much.
But right now she and Rove are trundling through Arcadia's outskirts and she's pretty sure that now is not the best time to ponder the current state of her own life. Not with Rove acting so weird—well, weirder than usual.
Everything about this little excursion with Rove is a bit off. For one thing, the two of them haven't hung out like actual friends since well before Joan turned up in their A. P. Chem class. For another thing, even after Joan turned up in their A. P. Chem class, she and Rove never really hung out on their own. The bond they'd had as kids hadn't triumphed over her drunken-mother-induced isolation or his suicidal-mother-induced reclusion and their inexplicable attraction to Joan's bizarre orbit wasn't enough to change that in the course of one school year. However, the oddest thing about all of this was that, for all that Adam liked her and would have gone just about anywhere she suggested when they were kids, he'd never actually liked the sewers. So his turning up on her porch wanting to go for a long overdue visit smells of all kinds of trouble to her.
Grace waits for him to park his dad's truck before saying anything. "You bring the paper?"
He smiles ruefully and shakes his head. "Not in the mood." With a tilt of his head and a brief smile, he heads for the sewer entrance.
Grace follows but now she is flat-out worried because the last time Rove wasn't in the mood for art (even if it was just paper boat-making) Joan had destroyed his sculpture. The last time before that was never. So this can only mean that something Very Bad has happened between her neurotic best friends.
The Twilight Zone-esque feel increases as the pungent sewer odor assails her and she wrinkles her nose in immediate disgust. Disturbed and frowning, Grace plods behind Rove wondering how she'd come to this point. Surely hanging with the geek hasn't made her weak. "Whatever," she mutters to herself and shrugs off her confused thoughts about her relationship. Whatever's going on now isn't about her and Rove is just as volatile in his own way as anyone else. She's going to need to focus on him right now.
They walk in silence, the old, long-forgotten sense of comfort and refuge slowly seeping into them. Grace sees Rove's shoulders relax, feels her own muscles unwind and begins to wonder if she were overreacting to the whole situation. The sluggish sloosh of the garbage-strewn water, the familiar echo of their footsteps and the soft squealing of rats wrap around Grace and, were it not for Rove's strange mood, the smile tugging at her lips would be much bigger.
The minutes slip by and the tunnel twists and turns; Grace doesn't know how long they've been down here or how far they've gone. She doesn't remember her way around anymore. She's sure Rove knows the way though. The thought keeps her calm; she does not like feeling lost.
"It's over."
His voice startles her and she turns confused eyes to his profile. "What's over?"
He shoves his hands deeper in his pockets, huddles in on himself as if to protect himself from the cold. If anything, it's very warm down here. She's glad she left her jacket in his truck; she's sure the smell never would have come out.
"Jane and me. It's over."
Blinking, she exclaims, "This didn't have anything to do with..."
"No," Rove interrupts quickly. "It's not because of Judith." He stops and shrugs, head tilted back, eyes closed. "It's because of me. I broke Jane."
"No," Grace disagrees. "No. Girardi was crazy long before you came along."
A tiny, reluctant smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. "She's not crazy," he whispers, but his voice is a bit lighter than before and Grace is glad to hear it.
Grace stares at him incredulously. It must the whole stupid in love thing because Joan Girardi is definitely crazy. It is a good, ultimately productive kind of crazy...but still crazy. But she'll play along; she's curious. "What is she if she's not crazy?"
Rove's head rolls toward her and he opens his eyes. Even in the dark, Grace can see the sadness in them. "Lost," he answers before lifting his head. "Broken. I broke her."
"You didn't break her, Rove," Grace assures him, awkwardly patting his shoulder.
He just shakes his head. "I helped."
Though she doesn't agree, Grace can't think of anything to say to change his mind.
In silence, Rove turns around and they head back to the truck. It's not until they are on the road that Grace thinks of something to say. "You know that Girardi's going to get through whatever's bothering her."
"Yeah," he responds half-heartedly.
Grace stifles her sigh. She knows there's nothing else she can say. It's going to be a long semester.