on her feet, waiting for her son to speak.
He licks his lips, glances at me out of the corner of his eye.
I can’t peel my eyes away from this train wreck. I know a guy who needs rescuing when I see it. Smiling, I take charge of the situation. “Mrs. LaGuerre. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte Cavendish-Holt.” I hold out a hand, and she shakes it, turning her tentative smile on me.
“Ahh, I’ve heard a lot about your father. His stance on immigration reform gives me hope that your government isn’t completely screwed.”
My politician’s smile falls into place. This I can handle. “My father would thank you for the compliment, but there is much work to be done. Is there something I can help you with? The administration office is in the building around the corner, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Mrs. LaGuerre’s eyes flick to Ricardo, who hasn’t moved. He’s staring at her like a boy carved from stone. Waves of apprehension roll off him, buffeting my side like a sandy shore under a ragged tide.
“I was hoping to convince Ricardo to show me the academy’s eatery, and maybe grab some breakfast. I’d like to catch up.” The hope in her words hangs in the air as the seconds draw out.
When he still doesn’t respond, I elbow Ricardo in the side.
Grunting, he seems to give himself a mental shake. “I can’t now, Mother. My girlfriend and I are going off campus for breakfast. It’s our last day of freedom, before classes start. Have to make the most of it.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. His fingertips scald me even through my sweater dress.
Wait. What?
I start to splutter, but he gives my side a slight squeeze, as if pleading with me to go along with his ruse. So instead of stomping on his toes and running away, I clench my mouth shut.
Mrs. LaGuerre looks defeated, but she nods her head. “Are you sure? I’d really like to talk to you. I know it’s been a long time.”
“Like I said. I’m busy.” Ricardo is ice cold as he dismisses her. It’s kind of impressive, actually. Even I can’t muster the courage to talk to Daddy like this.
The woman’s eyes are sad as she looks at him, and then nods. “Enjoy your breakfast, but know this. I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m not giving up so easily this time.”
Ricardo lifts his chin in response, and his mother retreats toward the street, slipping into a black car parked at the curb.
Once it’s gone, I peel Ricardo’s fingers off me and shove him away. “Don’t touch me. And your girlfriend? Dream on, playboy. That’s never going to happen.”
Ricardo licks his lips. “Thanks. For not saying anything.”
His sincerity catches me off guard, and I’m not sure what to say in response. “You’re welcome, I guess. But next time you see her, you have to set her straight.”
His voice is so low I barely hear it. “If I ever see her again.”
Despite my best efforts, I feel sorry for him. I know what it’s like to want the attention of an unavailable parent. “You will. Now seriously, get moving. I have to go.” I gesture toward the road with the car keys still clutched in my fingers.
“Here.” Without asking, he takes my keys and slides into the driver’s seat. “Let me help you out. It’s the least I can do.”
My mouth springs open to argue, but he gestures to the other side. “Just get in the car, Blondie.”
Fuming, I walk around the crumpled hood, letting my eyes slide over the damage one more time. What must it have felt like for Professor Rook to be slammed by the wide swath of metal? There wasn’t a scream, so he must have been surprised. It must have been so sudden, he had no time to react.
Sliding into the passenger seat, I buckle before clamping my eyes shut.
“Seat warmers? Nice.” Ricardo puts the car in reverse and backs out of the space. In a couple of minutes my buns are toasty warm.
It’s only a momentary distraction from the thought tornado that’s threatening to shred my composure.
Did the professor feel anything? Or did he die instantly? Would it help to know he didn’t experience any pain? The questions burrow down deep inside me, and I know I’ll never be able to dig them out and toss them away. I can lie to myself about the rightness of this thing I’ve done