The Best Possible Answer(32)

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He says he needs us for something.”

“He knows I’m here?”

“Yes, I told him.” And then it hits me at the same time it hits her. “Maybe he just wants to see you.”

She’s right. She’s totally and completely right. This is the point where I should admit it all. I should tell her that he kissed me—that I kissed him.

But I don’t. Instead, I insist that’s not what it is, because I can’t let it go any further. “He messaged you,” I say. “He texted you.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

We get ourselves dressed quietly so as not to wake her mom, who probably came home around two, like usual. I braid Sammie’s hair and then sit on her bed while she works her makeup magic in her mirror: foundation, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, the works.

I throw my hair in a ponytail and put on my bra.

Her phone buzzes, and she checks it. “He’s downstairs,” she says.

She tells the doorman to send him up. A few minutes later, there’s a soft, rhythmic knock at the door.

“He’s here.” She looks terrified.

“So answer it.”

“Yes. Okay. I’ll answer it.”

I follow her down the hallway and through the empty living room. She opens the door. Evan’s standing there, clearly upset.

He doesn’t say hi or anything—there are no formal greetings, no pleasantries or salutations. He walks past us and sits on the couch. “I need your help. Professor Cox needs your help. He’s in trouble. Deep trouble.” He’s breathless and upset.

“Shhh,” Sammie says. “My mom’s sleeping. Come on. Let’s go up to the roof.”

Sammie leads us out the door, and we follow her toward the elevator. Evan looks at me, and I have to look away, for fear of acknowledging what happened yesterday. He reaches for my hand to try to hold it, but I pull back and shake my head.

Sammie turns and asks, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” I say.

This confuses Sammie. “What? What are you talking about?”

“What? Oh, you mean with Professor Cox? Yeah—” I try to recover. “What’s going on, Evan?”

The elevator door opens. “I’ll tell you when we get upstairs,” Evan says. “I’ll explain everything. Or at least I’ll try to.”

Inside the elevator, the air between us is thick. We’re all facing one another, our backs against the mirrored wall, and it’s so incredibly awkward. Sammie looks at Evan, and then Evan looks at me. I try my best to keep my attention on the numbers that rise one by one as the elevator takes us up to the roof.

Finally, the elevator door opens. We follow Sammie out, and she uses her keys to unlock the fire door.

We walk through the party room and exit onto the roof. The sky is dark and blue in the west, while Lake Michigan, in the east, is lit up orange from the rising sun. Below us the city is not quite awake. There’s a weird silence in the air, and I’m not sure if it’s because of Evan or if it’s something else completely.

At first, we try to sit down on the benches, but they’re wet with dew, so we just lean against the railing and look out at the sunrise. It’s early Monday morning, and most Bennett residents are on their way to work. Even my mom must be up already, getting Mila ready for camp. I probably should go down and let her know I’m with Sammie. But I figure if she were really worried, she would have texted Sammie already.

“Professor Cox called me last night. He’s in jail. Someone called after that tomato stunt. I was his one phone call. He needs my help.”

“What tomato stunt?” Sammie asks.

Evan fills her in on what happened yesterday.

“I can’t believe I missed it,” Sammie says. “What does he want from you?”

“Well, first, to make sure his dog is okay. And something about clearing out some things. Some incriminating things, maybe?”

“That’s why you came here?” Sammie asks, clearly disappointed that he hasn’t come for her. “To convince us to do what, exactly?”

“Honestly? Nothing. I just needed to get into the building. And now that I’m in, I don’t really need you to do anything, I guess. He said there’s a key under the mat, and technically, I could just go in myself.” And then he says, “But I’d like for you guys to come with me.”

“Okay,” Sammie says quickly. “I’m in.”

I know Sammie doesn’t want me here, so this should be the perfect excuse to say no, but I’m worried that if I leave Evan and Sammie alone together, he’ll tell her about our kiss.

“Ugh,” I say. “Really? We’re really doing this?”

“Don’t you want to prove to Professor Harold Joseph Cox that there’s love in the world? I mean, he reached out for help, and we need to show him that there are good people like us who could love him.”

“And destroy evidence for him?”

“Yes.” Evan laughs quietly. “And destroy evidence for him.”

“Fantastic,” I say. “This is exactly what I want to be doing on a beautiful summer’s morning. Sneaking into odd men’s apartments and committing possibly illegal but ultimately altruistic acts of deception.”