Put Me Back Together(97)

“Four,” I replied, “one for each of us. And of course they each have their own attendant. Mine is named Pierre.”

Lucas swallowed and wiped his mouth. “Don’t ever tell your parents I share a bathroom with twenty other guys, okay?” he said.

“I was kidding about the attendants,” I said, though I was pretty sure he already knew it. “My parents aren’t snobs. Em and I used to say…”

I stared down at my food, my appetite disappearing. This has happened several times already. Just the thought of Emily brought the conversation to a screeching halt.

Lucas set the metal cover on top of my plate. “Let’s watch some TV,” he said gently, taking me by the hand and leading me over to the gigantic bed.

We snuggled up together, leaning back against the pillows and switched on the flat screen, which took up the better part of the wall. Lucas began swiftly clicking through the channels, but, naturally, every station was showing the same thing. Of course, I should have known. I was the one who’d been through all of this before. The country had been waiting six years for a new story about the Kindergarten Killer. My life would be the top story for months to come.


“I’ll turn it off,” Lucas said, but I stilled his hand.

“No, leave it,” I said. I’d been hiding from the news for so long, averting my eyes from the headlines, depriving myself of music to avoid hearing the top story update at the end of the hour on the radio. It was a stupid way to live, and I’d resolved to stop letting Brandon’s actions make me do stupid things. “It’s about me, isn’t it? We might as well hear what they’re saying.”

There she was, Leslie Wong, looking exactly the same as she had when I was thirteen, her shoulder-length hair perfectly coiffed, the teeth perfectly straight. To me, the sound of her voice was like nails being dragged down a chalkboard, but I tried to remind myself that it wasn’t Leslie’s fault that she’d joined the news team the year my life went to hell. As the camera zoomed out I realized Leslie was standing on University Avenue, the fluttering yellow police tape behind her cordoning off the pathway between Ontario and Grant Halls.

“Isn’t that your apartment building?” Lucas said. We both leaned toward the TV as Leslie’s voice-over played against footage of my building.

“This apartment complex is where victim Katie Archer had been living a quiet life at school until the Kindergarten Killer, now known as Brandon Tomko, came back into her life and tried to take it a second time. Though Katie and her family have been following their ‘no comment’ rule established six years ago, her friends were quick to comment about the character of the girl we all knew as ‘the babysitter.’”

The face of Pompous Guy from my art class filled the screen and I quickly reached forward and muted the TV before we could hear whatever nonsense he was telling the world about me. I’d never had a conversation with him in my life.

Lucas was still gaping at the television like he couldn’t believe his eyes. I remembered that feeling. As a seasoned victim of the media, I shot right into action. Grabbing my phone—which I now saw had thirty-seven recorded voicemails—I left a quick message on Mariella’s machine apologizing for disappearing without filling her in and telling her I was fine and not to talk to any reporters. I sent similar texts to Em’s friends, though I was pretty sure they’d all gone home by now. It was lucky the semester was over. The journalists would be hard-pressed to find someone to give them a sound bite about me, which explained how they’d landed on Pompous Guy.

“You should call any friends who you know are still on campus,” I said to Lucas as I scanned through my insanely long list of missed calls. Where exactly had the journalists gotten my number? “If they’re talking to random people from our class, they know we’re together. I hope you’re ready for the spotlight.”

“Don’t think that,” Lucas said, pulling the phone out of my hand and tossing it across the bed.

“Hey!” I cried. “What? Think what?”

He turned off the TV and then tugged me onto his lap. I hooked my legs around his waist and laid my head against his chest, marveling at how perfectly we fit together in this position. Though my head was full of racing thoughts, I wasn’t too preoccupied to notice that certain very sensitive parts of our bodies were touching, causing a little flame to ignite in my center, its heat rolling through my body.

“You’re thinking that I’m probably having second thoughts about you now that our relationship is going to be broadcast to the world,” he said into my ear. That was pretty much what I had been thinking, though now my thoughts had wandered to other things. “But don’t think that. I don’t care about any of it. I just want to be with you. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said weakly. He ran his hands up and down my back. He was trying to be comforting, I knew. I was sure he had no idea the reaction my body was having to his touch. It was as though a growling animal had been awakened inside of me, and she wanted to be fed.

“Why don’t I run you a bath,” Lucas said, delicately kissing my cheeks and pulling out of my arms.

I flung myself back on the bed as I heard him turn on the water in the bathroom. Maybe a bath would do me good, help me clear my head and focus on what was important instead of the sex-crazed thoughts that had invaded my mind as if from nowhere. Or maybe all that hot, sudsy water would only inflame my burgeoning libido. I groaned softly to myself as I pulled my hair up into a bun.