I can’t find my room key, so I have to get Ms. Poppin to unlock it. I gather my toiletries before trudging down the hall to the bathroom. It, too, is empty.
The hot water pours down over my sweaty body, relaxing my muscles and flushing my skin pink. The steam fills and expands my chest. If only I could stay in here all day long.
Ricardo should go to Haiti with his mom. In my relaxed state, I don’t push away the idea when it returns to the forefront of my thoughts.
How much longer is she going to stick around, teaching classes for Professor Rook and popping into the eatery on an almost daily basis in the hopes that her son will break his wall of silence and talk to her?
If it were me, I’d have written him off by now. I don’t have time to chase after people who aren’t into me. So why did I waste so much time trying to make Kenneth jealous by fake dating Ricardo?
My gut clenches. It was such a waste of time.
Kenneth was never truly interested in me. Adrienne and Genevieve were right about that. Plus, now that I’m with Ricardo, I know what real care and attention are like. Sure, he’s a giant flirt, but there’s a whiff of honesty beneath his silliness that hits me right in the feels every single time.
It’s terrifying.
Half of me wants to run headlong into this, whatever it is, with everything I’ve got. Just like I do with tennis, my classes, preparing for Daddy’s campaign events, shopping. But the other half? The dark, shadowy corners that I pretend not to see? Those parts want to shove Ricardo out of the metaphorical door to my heart and lock it tight behind him.
Being with Ricardo leaves me vulnerable and exposed. Emotions I am not used to and don’t enjoy at all. It reminds me of the first time I went sailing alone. My brain knew everything I needed to command my craft over the smooth, glassy water. But my heart? It locked up in fear, and I almost ended up calling it quits before I even got started.
Fear of failure. That’s what this is.
The thing I’m realizing about myself is this: if I’m not one hundred percent sure I’ll succeed, I don’t always even try at all. Because flopping at something publicly is much worse than the regrets I carry about not even trying. It’s one of the main reasons I started buying uppers from Professor Rook last year. They gave me an extra edge I needed to remain at the top of my classes.
But do I want Ricardo to be one of my regrets?
No, but I also don’t want him to come to resent me for not insisting he go to Haiti, either. Because if he stays with me and risks his final tie to his mom, it would poison our relationship eventually. The what-ifs would consume him from the inside out. I can’t let that happen, no matter how much pain it causes me to let him go. Even though it’ll be more harmful to my heart than I dare to admit.
Once I’m dressed, I slide into my desk chair and open my tablet to the chart I’ve made with all of my findings regarding Professor Rook’s death. There are still so many loose ends. The driver. My attacker. The threat and attack on Gul. Kenneth’s presence on campus that night and his flimsy excuse.
I’ve been keeping tabs on the news coverage of the event, which has petered off considerably in the weeks since it happened. I hardly get any alerts on my phone anymore.
As I read over my notes, I chew on the inside of my cheek. I have to do something. Push someone’s buttons. See what shakes out.
Starting with Kenneth.
It’s still early, so I have time before class.
He’s behind the desk when I walk through the frosted glass door into the health center.
Stepping up to the desk, I lower my voice. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Kenneth’s face registers surprise, and then he glances around. He speaks loud enough to be heard by anyone else who might be in the vicinity. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Sorry, no. I just have a couple of medical questions.”
He pushes back from the desk, eyeing Bodyguard Steve. “Follow me to one of the exam rooms. Right this way.”
Gesturing for the older man to remain where he is just inside the door, I follow Kenneth down the clean, pale green hall and into one of the vacant rooms. He closes the door and leans against it with crossed arms.
There are jars of implements on the sideboard. Cotton balls. Swabs. Gauze. Condoms. Something about it strikes me as funny as I pull myself up onto the exam table and cross my ankles.
“You had medical questions?” He uses finger quotes, his eyes never leaving my face.
I shrug casually. “You never told me the real reason you were on campus the night Professor Rook was killed. I don’t believe that nonsense about turning in forms. At midnight? Come on. What’s the truth?”
Kenneth shakes his head, uncrosses his arms. One hand clamps around the doorknob. “It’s none of your business, Char.”
Swallowing, I infuse my eyes with as much steel as I can muster. “If you don’t tell me why you were here, I’m going to submit the video of you on campus to the police. They’ll be able to figure out whatever it is you’re hiding.”
A muscle quirks in his jaw. “You wouldn’t.”
My chin lifts in a clear challenge. Try me, Ken Doll. I’ve had about enough of the shenanigans that have been occurring on this campus since September. Far too many people I care about have been hurt, almost killed. It’s got to stop. I’m pretty sure Kenneth didn’t kill Professor Rook, but something about the last time we spoke has been bugging me. He knew the professor’s first name, almost blurted it out when I questioned him. And I’m positive I never told him about any of my professors. So how would Kenneth know the man’s first name?
I lean forward, fastening my eyes on his face. “I would. I don’t know what motive you would have to hurt the professor, but you were nearby for all of the other incidents. The health center is right around the corner from the vending machines where I was attacked, and it’s close by the surveillance office too. And you were at my birthday party when Gul was poisoned. That’s plenty of opportunity. I have a hunch the police will be able to find a motive.” My phone vibrates in my bag, but I ignore it. Probably a text alert for my news app.
The air in the room is charged with angry heat, but I don’t back down. Don’t show any weakness. It’s something I’ve noticed Daddy does, even in the most frustrating of debates. His stony demeanor ruffles his opponents into saying something stupid they can’t walk back. I’m hoping it’ll do the same to Kenneth.
What I don’t count on is him advancing slowly toward me, an angry set to his shoulders.
Before it occurred to me that he could be behind the attacks, I never sensed that he would try to physically hurt me, but as more time has passed since our relationship, clarity has descended. There is so much about Kenneth that I don’t know. Including what he’s capable of if backed into a corner.
I put a hand up. “Wait.”
He takes another step toward me, and the arms that I once thought were beautiful and lean now look menacing and brutal. Strong enough to choke the life out of me.
The air in the room presses closer, hot against my face, threatening to suffocate me even before Kenneth’s outstretched hands wrap around my throat. My eyes skim the desk for something with which to defend myself. A stack of files. A pen. Tablet and stylus. Nothing with much potential. Which is why I brought the taser I bought after my attack.