My boyfriend said he loves me, and I pushed him away. Essentially broke up with him. More than anything I wish I could have answered Ricardo. Told him how I feel in return. Even though I’ve never said those words to a boy before.
And with my track record, it makes sense.
My one serious ex-boyfriend is a murderer.
Gul’s questions churn in my thoughts. Why did Kenneth attack her? The idea that he was trying to frame me isn’t sitting right. He has no motive, really, because at that point there wasn’t any heat on him. The spotlight came later.
There’s something niggling at my consciousness, something I’m missing, but I can’t grasp it. Every time I think I get close, it dissolves into thin air.
The decor around my room is only a distraction. Framed photos of my family and friends smile at me from my desk and dresser. Make my thoughts jump ad nauseam from Kenneth to Ricardo to Daddy’s dinner tonight.
I can’t focus here. I need a change of scenery.
Maybe then the sheer weight of the knots in my stomach will lighten.
33
The view from the roof is unobscured. Violet streaks slash over the darkening expanse as the sun retreats behind the horizon. Frigid air rakes over me, cutting through the flimsy fabric of my blouse, making me wish I’d brought my jacket. Bracing my arms around my torso, I step out onto the roof and move briskly toward the darkened greenhouse. Soon the day’s light will give way to a milky purple over the academy.
It was sheer luck that someone called Bodyguard Steve a minute ago, distracting him so I could slip away. I need a few minutes alone.
Relieved that the glass structure is unoccupied, I step inside. My chaotic mind craves the quiet of the greenhouse. The earthy scent of moist potting soil. Greenery brushing against my arms. Turning on the interior lights reveals the metal frame in stark angles.
Warm, humid air wraps around me, cutting off the chill that moments ago caressed my skin. Despite the warmth, my arms are pebbled with goosebumps. The unsettled feeling in my belly simply won’t go away. I thought leaving the confines of my room would help, but it hasn’t.
Walking slowly down the rows of plants, I stop to study the various growing projects in progress. Botany never really interested me, but I need something to occupy my mind, or I’ll spend all night beating myself up for not realizing Kenneth was a psycho.
If he did any poking around the student files in the health center, he would know about Gul’s allergy to peanuts. It would be easy to get ahold of a small amount of peanut oil and put it in her food. He stood next to her in the buffet line at my birthday party, and she was busy whispering with Grady as they got their food. Probably about what a loser I was for inviting my ex-boyfriend to my party.
It was stupid. It almost resulted in another death. When will my actions stop causing hurt to everyone around me?
Moving to the next project, I study the glass cloches covering each of the small plants. Each one is surrounded by a ring of a different substance. Fertilizers. Coffee grounds. Ice.
“Didn’t think I’d find you here.” Grady’s voice makes me jump and spin around to face him. A hint of amusement lifts his lips. He picks his way toward me, careful not to upset any of the plants whose leaves hang over the edges of the long, weathered wood benches.
I take an uneven breath, trying to present a calm demeanor. “I needed a change of scenery. You know?”
Grady’s head bobs. “How’re you doing? With Kenneth being arrested?”
“It’s hard to believe, actually, but I’ll be okay.”
“You always seem to have everything under control.” His eyes dart up to mine before moving away.
Surprised, a loud laugh bursts from my throat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m barely hanging on. My Daddy is disappointed with me, Ricardo is leaving for Haiti, and Adrienne and Genevieve are busy with their boyfriends. I’m afraid all you see is a carefully constructed mask. Underneath, I’m just a girl.”
“You are definitely not just a girl.” The faint snarl on the last word catches my ear. My eyes turn to his. They’re dark. Inscrutable.
The hairs on my arms stand up, but when he speaks again, his voice is even, calm. I must have imagined the flash of anger I heard in