Page 28 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
“Were you watching me?” I ask. My stomach flips. I force myself not to sound terrified by the question, lifting a brow as if it’s meant to be suggestive.
“No,” he says. “I saw you across the courtyard, walking aloneagain. I thought I would join you, if that’s all right.”
The watch in my pocket burns, threatening to put a hole in my good sweater.
“I’m not alone,” I say, smiling. “I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
“Oh?” The comment catches him off guard, I think. He blinks, glancing away. “I was under the impression you were avoiding me.”
“What gave you that impression?”
Possibly the fact that Iwas.
I know it’s counterproductive. I have to get information from him, and avoiding him won’t help me do that. Margaux told me not to rush into it, but how much longer can I keep avoiding him?
“You’re right. How silly of me.” His eyes flicker back to mine before looking ahead. “In that case, will you oblige to a date with me? Tonight.”
“Tonight?” I yelp.
Caldwell doesnotwant to date me. In another circumstance, I might believe it; some people are into being berated and brushed off. But in this situation, hemusthave ulterior motives. This is good for me—I can get information—and that’s all this should be.
My heartstill flutters.
“It’s Friday,” he says, “which is often known as date night. While I’m not usually one for societal norms, I’ll make an exception for our first date. Unless you have other plans? Is there someone for me to be jealous of?”
I swallow nervously. “No,” I say. “There’s no one else, and—I have no plans. Tonight is fine. Great, even! Tonight isgreat!”
It isn’t a real date, but I’m still finding creative ways to embarrass myself. It’s been easy to brush Caldwell off, and I cannot believe he’s caught me off guard, eliciting this stupid, flustered feeling.
He’s making me ramble! I would rather bash my head into a wall than keep talking.
“I’ll pick you up from your dormitory,” he says. “Seven, sharp. Which room is yours?”
I shouldnottell him my room number. I don’t trust him, and there’s a killer on the loose! It’s asking for danger.
“Thirty-three.” I blurt before I can stop myself. “On the second floor. I have a terrifying vampire roommate.” The last part is for insurance—obviously.
“Noted.” His brows lift. “Tell your terrifying vampire roommate that I’ll have you home by curfew.”
“Curfew is nine,” I say. “Are you sure you want to promise that?”
“That gives us plenty of time for what I want to do.”
What he wants to do.I gulp, coming to a stop outside of my dormitory. I don’t like the sound of that, and I should run now, but…
“What should I wear?” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, the kind of thing I would worry about if this were a real date.
That stupid little half-smile flickers on his face.
“Whatever you like,” he says. “In my eyes, you always look lovely.”
My mouth pops open in surprise. If I’m supposed to reply, I forget how.
“And then—get this—hechuckled.”
“He chuckled?” Margaux asks. “Is that supposed to be a big deal? Is it code for… something else?”
“Yes!” I say. “I mean, no! It’s not a code, and itisa big deal. He doesn’t so much as smile, and now he’s… chuckling! He’s chuckling atme, Margaux! I’m not funny!”
