Page 14 of What Happened on Roslyn Street? (Strode University #1)

Chapter Nine

I take every strange path I’ve learned over the last few days, hoping to avoid Caldwell following me. He doesn’t. I never hear his footsteps.

Students smoke cigarettes in the courtyard. I fly through the dining hall, past the library, until at last… I make it to my room.

Relief settles over me as I slip inside. My eyes close and my back presses to the door.

BUZZ…

I jump out of my skin.

“Are you going to get that?” Margaux asks, lifting a brow.

I don’t realize she’s there until she speaks, and I jump out of my skin.

BUZZ…

I shake my head.

My chest puffs out as I catch my breath. It’s impossible to. I’m dizzy, and it’s not from the run. I rub my chest, trying to breathe through the creeping sensation of panic.

“I take it the date didn’t go well?” she asks .

Did it go well? I got information on Caldwell and his interests, maybe even his inner psyche—but nothing of substance.

BUZZ…

“What happened?” Margaux asks approaches with hesitant steps.

“Nothing.” I touch my forehead. Lifting my bangs, I press my cool fingers to my warm skin. “I’ve been drinking. We ate cheese and talked about books.”

“That doesn’t sound terrible at all. I recall that being on your romance bucket list in the eleventh grade.”

I was still too young to drink, but she’s right. The date would have been a dream.

“That’s what makes it so terrible.” Horrified laughter claws from my throat without permission. “This is my first good date in years, and it’s with the strangest guy on campus! Why?”

She shrugs. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Does it?” My strangled laughter continues. “Does it really?”

BUZZ…

“Oh, my G—” Margaux steps forward, her hand patting my bag. “Give me the phone.”

“What?”

“Give it to me!”

I don’t dare deny what she asks, passing my phone with swiftness.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “I get spam texts all the time.”

She glances at the phone.

“It’s him,” she says, passing the phone back. “You should reply to him if you don’t want to end this so quickly.”

My hands shake as I take the phone, brows furrowed at the words on the screen.

Unknown Number

It’s Caldwell.

Aside from the abrupt ending, I had a nice time. Let me know if you’d like to see me again.

And please text me once you’re safe. You worry me.

I blink at the words. My heart races. Is it from the texts or my run across campus? The texts are harmless. They’re sweet, even—as sweet as a monster can be. I bite at my lower lip.

“Don’t let that fool you,” Margaux says. “Him sending a couple of corny texts doesn’t mean he’s off our suspect list.”

“I know that!” I snap. “He’s the only one on the list. We can’t remove him so quickly.”

I turn off my phone without responding to the text, slipping it into my pocket.

“And yet…” Margaux says, moving back to her bed. “You know what? Never mind.”

“No,” I say, rolling my eyes. I follow her over, settling next to her on the bed. “Finish your sentence, Margaux. What condescending thing were you going to say next?”

“Nothing,” she says simply, wiping her hands together. “I’m washing my hands of this. You’re an amateur, and you’re going to get us caught—or killed.”

“You aren’t much help! How am I supposed to do this alone?”

“Why should I keep helping you risk your life?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“We aren’t friends unless you want something from me. Now, I’m supposed to pretend you didn’t ice me out for months—that you didn’t snoop on my private possessions and ruin our friendship?”

The way I found Margaux’s secret wasn’t my proudest moment. I shouldn’t have read her journals—but she shouldn’t have lied to me for twenty years.

“You kept secrets from me!” I exclaim, standing up. “ That’s what ruined our friendship.”

“No!” She laughs bitterly. “Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong will always be the most ruinous part of your life. You’re doing it here. You’re doing it with—whatever his name is. Codwaddle .”

“Caldwell.” I correct her in a weak voice.

She continues as if I didn’t say anything. “And you did it with me. You can’t even let Poppy’s ghost rest! You just had to pry into that as well?—”

“Stop.” I mean to be firm. Instead, I am begging, my eyes stinging with the threat of tears. “I’m doing this for Poppy.”

“No, you’re not. She didn’t ask you to do this. She can’t ask you to do anything , Tobey! She’s gone. And instead of accepting that, you’re trying to join her. No one asked you to risk your life. Stop acting like you’re doing something heroic.”

“If we’re not friends,” I say, misty-eyed, “why do you care?”

“Because I’m your friend. You’re not mine, but I’ve always been yours.”

“That’s not true.” My stomach sinks. “Stop.”

“You weren’t there for me, but I was there for you the whole time. I checked on you at the funeral. I forced myself into this room. I’m here, and you—you’re so hot and cold. You say we’re friends, and then you talk to me like this. But, you know what? You were a bad friend, not me!”

“I didn’t mean to be a bad friend. I needed space.”

“I know—but I needed you . I lost Poppy, too, and you were too stubborn to be there for me. And now, because you need me , I’m supposed to forgive you in an instant?”

“It’s really not like that…” The words are weak.

I don’t have a better explanation. She doesn’t owe me forgiveness, just like I didn’t after I found the journal.

“Oh, but it is. You need me now. You can’t take care of yourself without my help. Even tonight was risky, but guess what? You weren’t alone .”

I draw back. “What are you saying?”

“I was there, watching his every stupid move. I heard the Dracula talk, and I know all about the brie. You could have brought me some brie, Tobey! I saw it all .”

“That sounds creepy!”

But while I won’t say it to her, it’s what I needed. I shouldn’t have gone alone, even if nothing terrible happened. It could have. Maybe it will next time.

“It should sound like I’m trying to keep you alive,” she says, “but you’ll hear whatever you want to hear.”

“How did you get back before me?”

The answer is obvious, but… she’s right. I’m nosey and prying, and I need to know everything. Of course, Margaux can see right through me. She stares at me with a flat expression, shaking her head.

“Vampires are faster than humans,” she says. “That’s common sense. Don’t pretend to be stupid, we both know you’re not.”

I feel stupid. This investigation is making me feel like an idiot. I’m chasing after people who may not be involved, and I’m withdrawing from the one person I may be able to trust.

Maybe.

I press my lips together, eyes cast off to the side, blinking away tears .

“You’re right,” I say weakly.

“Excuse me? Did I hear that? Did you just admit I’m right? And you’re wrong?”

“Margaux…”

The last thing I need is her gloating.

“It’s about time,” she says. “Which part am I right about?”

“I need you,” I say. “I know it doesn’t matter. You don’t owe me anything, and maybe I’m not doing the right thing… but I can’t stand by without avenging Poppy. I can’t keep letting people die.”

I’ve never felt so misunderstood by Margaux. I look at her now, begging her to see me as I want to be—as I think I am. I’m not here for selfish reasons. All I want is to do right by Poppy.

She has to understand that.

The stare-off lasts too long. Slowly, her posture shifts, her shoulders dropping.

“I know your heart is in the right place.” She cracks a sad smile. “What I don’t know is why I keep getting wrapped up in your schemes.”

I peer at her with hope. “So… you’re wrapped up in this one, too?”

“From the time I met you, you were getting me involved in these things. Trying to investigate the person who forgot to feed the class pet?—”

“It was you.”

“We were in kindergarten.” She carries on. “And in fourth grade, you were trying to prove that Mrs. Millsbury was unfit to teach.”

“She was . She had dementia, and her family wasn’t taking care of her! I helped her in the end.”

“But this? This is the most worthwhile thing we can do, even if it requires you being an obnoxious little snoop.” Her jaw flexes. “That is to say, we can call a truce—for now.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but you don’t get to use my friendship so easily. If you want to be my friend again, you have to work for it.”

“Yeah, well… so do you. You have to earn my trust again.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

The truth is, Margaux already won me over—again. She’s helped me more than anyone at Strode, and I don’t take her for granted.

Our friendship won’t go back to normal overnight. I don’t expect it to. For now, I’m happy to have a monster on my side.