focused on watching Kenneth out of the corner of my eye that it catches me by surprise when Ricardo leans down and brushes his lips over my cheek.
“I’ll meet you inside,” he whispers in my ear. “Can you blush on command? Act like I’m saying something naughty.”
“No way,” I titter, but throw in a playful swat for good measure. “Where are you going?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks as he walks backward away from me, then disappears into the crowded hallway.
I huff in amusement. If I didn’t dislike Ricardo, I’d think he was funny.
“There you are. We need to talk,” Cal says, snagging my arm and propelling me into the eatery and toward the pizza station.
I allow him to pull me along by the elbow. I’ve managed to avoid answering questions about his car for an impressive amount of time, but now that I know it wasn’t me who killed Rook with Cal’s car, I should probably explain what happened.
We join the back of the line, and Cal looks around to make sure we’ve got some privacy.
Honestly, he’s less subtle than a fog horn.
“What’s up?” I ask, feigning ignorance. Even if I’m going to be honest with my brother about everything that’s going on, I can still have a little fun with him first.
Cal’s head cocks to one side. “You know. My car? It disappeared the day they found Rook’s body, and then it was mysteriously back two days later, and it was spotless. You had it repaired. You’re lucky I’m the only one who noticed, or it would have looked bad.”
I open my mouth to speak, but change tacks. My hands find my hips. “How did you know I’d had it repaired?” He must have seen it on his way into the dormitory that night. Otherwise, when would he have? It was gone early the next morning.
Cal glances around again.
Over his shoulder, I see Adrienne, Genevieve, Mikhail, and Asif at our table. Adrienne waves at us, so I give her a small finger-wave back.
“You swear you won’t tell Mom and Dad?” Cal mutters, scooting forward in the line.
I’m doubly confused now. “Swear I won’t tell them what?”
“I might have hit one of those concrete poles with my car. You know the ones in parking lots? Don’t tell Dad, okay?”
My jaw drops. “You have got to be kidding me. You did that? I thought I’d killed Professor Rook. I had the car fixed to hide my tracks. I mean, it turns out I did run over him, but he was already dead when it happened. So, yeah.” The words come in a rush, and I have to fight to remain quiet
It’s Cal’s turn to gape. Shaking his head, he brings his face down to mine. “You… you thought you’d killed Professor Rook with my car? And you didn’t confess?” The unmistakable undertone of admonishment in the question cuts me to the quick.
I stare at the floor, my brother’s rebuke ringing in my ears. “It was an accident, and it’s not like the professor was an innocent lamb, or anything. He was a drug dealer, for goodness sakes!”
“How do you… You know what? I don’t want to know. Still, killing a man by accident is wrong. I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell the police.” He combs a hand through his icy blond hair, hair the same color as mine. “Unbelievable, Charlotte.”
I start to spout all of my reasons for keeping quiet, but they’re suddenly, obviously inadequate. I glance over my shoulder, and am brought up short by the dirty look the girl in line behind me is giving me. Did she hear what I just said? Crap.
“Are you going to move forward, or what?” she says, gesturing ahead of us.
Relief floods through me as I glance beyond Cal. The line has moved considerably, and we’re holding it up. “Oh, sorry.”
Catching on, Cal scoots forward toward the pizza station. He scans the row of available pizza toppings, not looking at me. Out of the corner of his mouth, he says, “How did you find out it wasn’t you who killed him?”
Sighing, I tell him about that night. The “tire” I ran over. Kenneth calling me about it, and showing up at school. His buddy telling him that Rook was run over twice, and the timeline that exonerates me of manslaughter.
Cal’s eyes meet mine. “You got lucky.”
Straightening my headband, I nod. “You’re telling me.”
I should tell my brother the rest, but something holds me back from confiding in him about