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He’s quiet for a moment. Then another, until it’s been at least thirty seconds since either of us has said anything.
“I’m sorry,”he says finally, letting out another soft breath.
“Why are you sorry?” I mutter, fingers raking through my hair as I chase away the last dredges of sleep. “It’s not like you killed her and left her for me to find.”
“I know,” he agrees. “But I can still be sorry, can’t I? It’s shit that your weekend is off to such a bad start.”He pauses, and I hear something rustle, along with the soft, hushed voice of another person. “Where’s Juniper? Does she know yet?”
“No,” I deny, shaking my head even though he can’t see it. “She’s not here. She won’t be back until Monday, and that’s at the earliest.”
“Oh?”He seems surprised, almost nervous, maybe? “Are you alone, Blair?”
I snort. “Yep. Alone with my granola bar.” I finish it off with a flourish, though the theatrics are for me alone.
“Why don’t we do something? I don’t like you being alone right now. I can take you to dinner, or—”
“I want to tell you something, actually,” I interrupt, though I hadn’t really meant to.
“Anything.” He says it so sincerely, like he won’t call me crazy for this next part.
“Professor Solomon was there, at the scene of the murder. He talked to me. I don’t know, he was just…” I trail off, trying to think of a word that doesn’t make me sound nuts. “I just don’t know, Oliver. He was strange. It was weird, and just… It made me uncomfortable.” I shrug my shoulders like I can protect myself from the anxiety creeping up on me.
“Our photography professor was there?”Oliver asks, voice sharper than I expect.
“Yeah. I know; tell me I’m overreacting. Tell me it’s dumb.”
“Tell you what’s dumb?”
“That I’m half-sure he’s stalking me. That I think he has something to do with the murders, or that he’s planning to end my life. He saw you kissing me the other day, and he just fuckingstood there. I don’t know. It’s just starting to freak me out. It has to be a coincidence, though, right? That he was there?”
“He watched me kiss you?” Oliver’s voice is unreadable.
I huff, rolling my eyes behind closed lids. “That’s not the important part of the conversation. I just need you to tell me I’m overreacting.”
“But you don’t think you are, do you, Blair?”Oliver’s voice is slow and careful, like he’s worried about frightening me. “You think there’s something to this. Will it even help if I say I think you have nothing to worry about?”
I think about the words, scouring my brain for the depths of my feelings about Professor Solomon. It hits me all at once that I know what the answer is, and I close my eyes hard. “No,” I admit, fingers pressed against the wood of the table. “No, I don’t think so.”
He’s quiet again for half a second, and I strain to hear anything at all.Nothing. As if he’s muted himself on the other end, or my connection has gone dead.
Then, all of a sudden, he’s back with a sigh, the first part of it sounding sudden, as if he really had been muted.“Good,”he says, voice soft. “Because I don’t think you’re wrong this time.”
My heart thunders in my chest, threatening to close off my airway. “What?” I whisper, staring down at the fake wood grain of our table. “What did you say?”
“I’ve had certain… thoughts about our professor for a while. And lately, with you? He’s never been this mean. I think you might be right. And I’m scared for you, Blair. I’m terrified that if you are right, then he’s going to do something. Does he know where you live?”His voice picks up, words becoming faster, like the possibility of them has him nervous too.
My own body feeds off of it, receiving his fear and embracing it. I can barely breathe as I start to tell him no, only to stop suddenly. “I don’t know,” I admit in a whisper. “Fuck,I don’t know.” What if he does know? What if he’s always known, or maybe I told him today by coming straight here after finding the body?
Fuck.
“Okay, hey. It’s okay. You’re still okay.” He sounds hurried, and I can hear the sounds of footsteps and a chair being pushed back from the table. “Let me come get you, all right?”
“Why?” I ask stupidly, getting up as well, like he’ll be at my door in the next minute. “What are we—”
“We’ll come back to my house. It’s safe here. You’ll be safe here.”
“What about your roommate?”
“He just left a few minutes ago, and he’ll be gone until Monday. You’ll be safe here, Blair. With me.”He makes a noise like he’s frustrated, and I hear the jingle of keys from his end. “I’m coming to get you. We’ll come back here and figure everything out.”
