People Like Us(36)

He heads down the winding road through the woods that line the eastern shore of the lake. “What do you want, Kay? You only call when you want something.”

“Doesn’t sound like me. I just want to talk.”

“About?” He flicks his cigarette out his window and rolls it up, and I turn up the heat.

“Nothing. Anything. Coffee and doughnuts.”

He pulls the car over and looks at me. “Then let’s really talk. About us.”

I get the worst sinking feeling. His face has always struck me as angelic and devilish at the same time, depending on the expression he chooses to wear, and right now the hope in his eyes is destroying me. Part of me wants to kiss him and tell him to forget everything both of us have done. Because Brie is never going to want me. Not as her girlfriend. She proved that tonight. And Spencer and I know each other so well. We can call each other on our bullshit, and drive each other wild, talk each other down from the ledge, and turn each other on in seconds. I hate that everything I want is ruined by contradiction. My brain is split, my heart severed. In this moment, right now, I want to unbuckle my seat belt, climb into his lap, and kiss away every memory the past few weeks has scarred into my brain.

But on the razor edge of tomorrow and forever and the second there is air between us again, I can’t forgive him for Jessica. At least, I can’t forget it. I can’t stop picturing. And every time I do, it’s the same terrifying way, a waking nightmare. Her dead, cold body wrapped around him.

“Spence,” I say quietly, “there’s nothing about us left to talk about. We both know it.”

“You’d be surprised,” he says in a deadly calm voice.

My breath catches in my throat. “What does that mean?”

He starts the car again. “Once,” he says, without looking at me. “Jess and I only hooked up one time. Is that what you wanted to know?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t need to.”

He drives to our meeting place, the dusty dirt road that diverges from the street and loops around the lake and ends between the village and the lake path at the edge of campus.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

He clasps his hands and sighs into them. “It wasn’t about you.”

“Right.” I can’t help my voice and temper rising. “It had nothing to do with Brie and me.”

“She hit on me.”

I stop, the door half open. “Did she say anything about me?”

“She said you were a narcissistic paranoiac who might think people pursue her boyfriends just to make her jealous.”

“Whatever, Spence.”

He grabs my hand. “Kay.” I look back at him. “When she asked if I was seeing anyone, I said no. She called me a dirty little liar. I thought she was being cute, but maybe she did know about us. Looking back, I tend to think she probably did.”

I pause. “How did you meet?”

“At a party.” He takes a deep breath and then looks at me guiltily. “Brie introduced us.”

He’s not lying this time. He looks as nauseous as I feel.

I slam the door in his face.



* * *



? ? ?

IN THE MORNING, Detective Morgan is waiting for me in the dorm lobby. Barton Hall was constructed in the manner of a grand British estate, a sort of scaled-down version of Downton Abbey, and the common room is all windows, floor to ceiling. When I can’t sleep, I like to curl up in one of the ancient velvety armchairs so I can gaze up at the stars and pretend it’s all mine. That’s where Detective Morgan decides to question me.

Once again, Dr. Klein is present as my chaperone. I’m still groggy and my muscles are itching for my customary coffee and weekday morning jog around the lake. I’m convinced my blood doesn’t flow right otherwise. But Morgan looms in front of the door, standing between me and the crisp morning air, her arms folded, a creepy smile twisting her thin lips, and Dr. Klein hunches in the corner looking smaller and older than usual, dressed in an untucked blouse and drab beige slacks instead of one of her usual bright pantsuits. I attempt a timid smile at her but she just raises a finger toward the common room and I head inside, a cloud of dread settling over me. So. Maybe Morgan recognized me the other night after all.

She has me sit facing the glass wall so the rising sun is in my face and I have to squint to look at her, silhouetted against the spotless glass. Dr. Klein arranges herself on a sofa in the corner, her knees drawn up underneath her, her hand tucked under her chin. It’s unsettling seeing her in such a casual pose and it occurs to me that the discovery of Hunter’s body has hit her much harder than I anticipated. I didn’t think about it much, but I’d assumed that she’d given him up for dead. Maybe she hadn’t.

Morgan clears her throat. “Where were you two nights ago?”

“Studying.”

“You logged out of the dorm for dinner at five thirty p.m.”

“Yes.”

“You logged back in around ten thirty.”

“That’s right.” I look at her dark figure. Her face is indistinguishable from the rest of her, backlit by the slowly brightening campus.

“You were studying all that time?”

“I ate first. Then I headed over to my friend Nola’s room. We studied, I left, went for a run, came back to my room, and studied again until midnight.”