Page 41 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
“It’s a terrible habit,” Caldwell says with a grave expression. “Almost as terrible as my manners. I forgot to introduce myself. You must be Margaux.”
“You’ve heard of me?” She offers Caldwell a dainty handshake. “Consider me surprised. But—of course—I’ve heard of you as well. Caldwell?”
Nowshe remembers his name.
“Oh?” He shakes her hand before letting go, eyes flickering to mine.
“Yes, well… you’ve both heard of each other.” I have no reason to be bashful, but my face grows hot. “And now you’re meeting! How exciting!”
I would be nervous to introduce anyone I’m dating to Margaux. I’m not dating Caldwell—not really—but it’s still nerve-wracking! I can’t put my finger on why, except… oh, yes, he’s our only potential suspect, and she’s a drama queen.
They’re a lethal combination.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” Caldwell says.
He leaves me blinking, shocked into silence. I don’t expect him to be so brazen.
Margaux is the one to answer. “Have you? How sweet.”
It’s been this way for as long as I can remember. Margaux is more charming than I am. Oh, how I long to switch places with her in this terrible, messed up situation.
She manages to fluster even Caldwell, catching him off guard to the point that he goes silent.
“I have.” He pushes his glasses up his nose, gaze shifting from Margaux and back to me. “Did you get my text?”
I exchange a look with Margaux, only to find that she’s watching expectantly. She doesn’t have to say a word for me to know the meaning behind her look.
If I keep pushing him away, we lose our only lead.
“I did,” I say, smiling apologetically. “I’ve been a little busy with… classes and all that.”
It still sounds like I’m blowing him off, and he reacts appropriately.
“I get it.” He presses his lips together.
“I’ll get back to you soon!” I say, with far too much enthusiasm.
“I look forward to it.” His smile seems forced. “But I didn’t mean to rush or bother. It was nice to meet you. Have a good rest of your evening.”
Before I can tell him to wait, he’s gone, turning and disappearing in the distance. It may be the first time he hasn’t offered to walk me to my room, and I tell myself it’s only because my friend is here. I already have a companion.
I didn’t lose his interestalready… did I?
Margaux and I don’t speak or move until he’s well out of earshot—or what I assume earshot is for a vampire.
She turns to me, resting her cool hands on my shoulders. “You need to text him back. I didn’t realize you were ghosting him!”
“I know!” And Idoknow, but I’m not particularly happy about it. My arms are crossed as we head back to our dormitory. “I’m not ghosting; I’m leaving him wanting more. I thought you would approve.”
“Oh, under any other circumstance, I would. You don’t leave our suspect wanting more, Tobey. You have to text him. Tonight. If he moves on from you, we have nothing!”
“And if he’s too interested, I’m risking my life.”
“Oh, stop it. We don’t know that he’s the killer at all.”
“Then why am I doing this?”
I already know the answer—or at leastmyanswer. No matter how many times I tell myself he may not be involved, my mind is stuck on him. I need to know more.
