We Know It Was You Read online

  “What price?” Lucius asked in a flat tone.

  “I’m thinking . . . five hundred dollars.”

  Lucius scoffed loudly. “I’m thinking you’re a little crazy, little girl,” he said, swallowing the rest of his soju and slamming the glass down. “Whatever weird thing you’re up to, please leave us out of it. Come on, Min-Jun. Let’s go.”

  Lucius pushed back from the bar and started walking away. Min-Jun downed the rest of his soju and followed him. But before he disappeared backstage, he turned and looked at her. His long black hair half hid his eyes, so Virginia couldn’t tell what the look was saying.

  The corner booth, 9:45 p.m.

  “We love your little German friend! Nothing little about him, you know!”

  Benny watched, slightly horrified, as the woman opened her jaws and smothered Gottfried’s face with a long, messy kiss, her tongue extending like a wet pink tentacle to invade Gottfried’s lips. The woman’s friend cackled with laughter, which made Virginia laugh, which made her sidecar (her third one) slosh on her sweater. Benny reached for a napkin and handed it to her.

  He wasn’t completely sure how he and Virginia had ended up in the large corner booth with Gottfried and his random middle-aged lady friends. Their names were Sabrina and Pearla, and though they were very different physically—one was lumpy and orange-skinned, the other horsey and muscular—they projected an air of being interchangeable as they traded equally unimaginative innuendos and guzzled each other’s cocktails. One of them had insisted on reading Benny’s palm, but was so drunk all she’d managed to say was that Benny had a “heart of mold.”

  The one kissing Gottfried, Sabrina, finally came up for air, her lips making a loud smack. Gottfried looked embarrassed but thrilled. “Hubba hubba!” he exclaimed.

  The women laughed hysterically. Virginia was laughing too, but she didn’t seem aware of what she was laughing at. Benny wanted to take her sidecar away, but it didn’t seem like his place somehow.

  “I have two life linessss,” Virginia declared, staring unfocusedly at her palm.

  “Honey, you’re buzzed, with a capital Z,” Pearla said. Then she seized Virginia’s hand. “Oh my God! You do have two life lines! Sabrina look here!”

  But Sabrina was entranced by Gottfried’s bottomless blue eyes. “Sheesh, you kids are trouble,” she purred to him. “No wonder Patty went nutty on us!”

  At the edge of the booth Benny snapped to alertness. “Were you friends with Pat?” Benny asked. “Did you know him?”

  “Always the istavigator, never the ivesti-vavigated-ed,” Virginia slurred, giving Benny a weird wink.

  “Oh sure,” Sabrina cooed. “We were best friends! Poor old Patty. You know what’s spooky is that I saw him that very night. The last time I ever saw my Peppermint Patty.”

  “Last Friday night?” Benny asked. “You saw Mr. Choi? What time?”

  “I don’t know, some time.”

  “That was Thursdee,” Pearla said, wagging a finger. “Thirsty Thursdee.”

  “It was couples’ night, which is Friday.”

  “No, it was two-for-one-shots night.”

  “That is couples’ night! That’s why they’re two for one, you drunk duck!”

  Benny thumped his fingers on the table to get their attention back. “Wait, wait. Answer this: Was the band playing? Was Asian Fusion playing?” He knew Mr. Choi’s band only played Monday through Thursday, so hopefully that would resolve the confusion.

  “No,” Sabrina said, sounding certain. But then two seconds later she exclaimed, “YES! Yes. They played ‘Fly Me to the Moon’!”

  Benny rubbed his temples. He had never felt so foolish in his life, trying to conduct an interview at a cheesy nightclub with four drunk people. They were the fools, he tried to convince himself, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t feel superior; he just felt left out. And frustrated. Nothing was adding up. Before becoming so drunk she could barely form words, Virginia had given him a full report of what had gone down at the other end of the bar. She’d dangled the tape, but neither of Choi’s bandmates had gone for it. Which meant it probably wasn’t either of them at the bridge. And now a crazy lady was saying she saw Mr. Choi on Friday night, or maybe it was Thursday. All this on top of the fact that his mother was picking them up at the library in twenty minutes, and if she realized Virginia and Gottfried had been drinking, she’d never let Benny leave the house again.

  Virginia didn’t worry him nearly as much as Gottfried. Drunkenness just seemed to make her laugh at everything, but not in the mean, coarse way she usually laughed at everything. In fact, rather than making her more belligerent, inebriation seemed to make Virginia temporarily benign and introverted. Gottfried, however, was a potential disaster. Gerard Cole had packed up his lame protest and abandoned Gottfried at the club, which made Benny responsible for him now. Benny hoped Mrs. Flax would simply mistake Gottfried’s drunkenness for Europeanness, but this was a huge risk. It was a twenty-minute drive back to the Boarders—what if Gottfried threw up or started bellowing German drinking songs? Benny both scorned and envied people like Gottfried—carefree goofballs who only survived because dependable suckers like himself were willing to take responsibility for them.

  Suddenly an amber-colored drink appeared on the table. The Afroed old bartender set it down unceremoniously and said, “Compliments of the gentleman at the bar.” Then he left.

  Benny squinted across the dark room. At the bar, the bass player from Asian Fusion was staring at them. Not at them—at Virginia.

  Virginia reached for the glass. Benny quickly reached out and grabbed it before she could.

  “Hey!”

  He sniffed it. Did roofies have a smell? He didn’t know.

  “Gimme please,” Virginia demanded.

  Benny glanced at the bar. The long-haired guy had narrowed his eyes. He was getting up from his stool.

  “Come on,” Benny said, setting the drink down and scooching out of the booth. “It’s time to go.”

  “Nooooooo!” the old ladies moaned, each clutching one of Gottfried’s arms.

  Virginia stood up, wobbling. “Say alf-veeder-shane, Gottfried.” She reached over the horsey woman and yanked Gottfried by the collar of his shirt. Gottfried laughed and allowed himself to be pulled out of the booth. The fat one trailed after them, planting glossy kisses on Gottfried’s face.

  Benny felt an arm curl around his waist as Virginia steadied herself against him. She was leaning on him, and Gottfried was leaning on her as Benny led them awkwardly out of the club.

  “Not one more drink? For da road?” Gottfried asked, sounding sad.

  Then Benny felt Virginia slipping, and he heaved her up by the arm before she could fall.

  “Thanks, Dad,” she said absently.

  Benny looked at her. Gottfried roared with laughter. “Shut up, Gottfried,” Benny said, not wanting to draw attention.

  As they approached the public library, he saw his mother’s car already parked in the lot. She was always ten minutes early. Benny dragged Virginia and Gottfried around the back so she wouldn’t see them coming from the street.

  “Wheeeeee!” Gottfried cried as they circled around.

  “Gottfried you have to be quiet,” Benny said. “When we get to the car, neither of you say a single word.”

  “What if she . . . inquires about the United Nation?” Virginia asked, obviously straining to articulate.

  “You say nothing. Gottfried, are you listening? When you get in the car, what do you say?”

  “I shall say guten Tag, Merssus Fleck!”

  “Oh my God, no, Gottfried. You say nothing. You are silent. Do you understand? My mother will kill me. She’ll pull me out of school.”

  Gottfried nodded stupidly. Benny couldn’t tell if he really understood, but there was nothing to do but get in the car. This is the end, Benny thought. This is the end, and I’m just walking right into it.

  The Boarders, midnight

  It was hard to describe what
she was feeling. She felt like she was on a tire swing, or in one of those dreams where you can’t walk properly. It was like time dragged for long moments, and she’d be staring at photographs on the bulletin board, but then time sped up again, and she suddenly couldn’t remember what she’d been doing. And she kept missing things, like in a play where all the action happens offstage. Benny had been right there, and then he was gone, but she couldn’t remember him leaving. Gottfried had been there too, but now she couldn’t find him, either.

  “Gottfried?” she called.

  She heard a murmur coming from the common room. She stumbled back toward it and found Gottfried slumped on the sofa. “My first real American girlfriend!” he exclaimed, looking wasted and ecstatic.

  “Whaaaa?” Virginia said, and burst out laughing. Did Gottfried think she was his girlfriend now? They’d sort of held hands for five seconds when Virginia had grabbed him to keep from falling down. Oh my God, she thought, feeling a weird giddiness tinged with dread. But then she realized Gottfried was talking about his low-class old lady at the Sapphire Lounge. He had a piece of paper with her phone number on it and was kissing it over and over. Virginia started laughing even harder.

  “Amerikanische Frau!” Gottfried cried. “I shall never go home again!” And then he closed his eyes and fell over on the sofa, presumably to dream of fake blondes with two-inch roots and streakily tanned bosoms.

  Virginia’s laughter trailed off, and she stared at him, wondering if he was really asleep. Gottfried was famous among the boarders for being an extreme insomniac. Apparently back in Germany he’d had a personal sleep therapist or something, but he couldn’t find one in America. Which meant that no matter what time of night, you could usually count on him being awake and padding around the Boarders in his slippers. He seemed thoroughly conked out now, though, unless he was faking. But Virginia didn’t think Gottfried was the type to fake anything. He seemed incapable of the artifice required to act like a normal person.

  “Gottfried?” Virginia said quietly. “Gottfried?” He didn’t move. She eyed the pink piece of paper still loosely clutched in his hand. She heard Benny’s voice in her mind: Do you want to contribute or not? She focused her bleary eyes on the paper, then reached over and grabbed it.

  Then she was in her dark, quiet room, with no memory of how she got there. She sat up on the bed. She was uncomfortable. The gold skirt had been rubbing against her waist all night and it felt like she had a rash. Had she been sleeping? She looked at her clock. It was one in the morning. She felt dizzy in a way that alarmed her, not like the pleasant, airy, oblivious dizziness she’d felt earlier.

  She found herself staring at the window. It was pitch-black outside, the black outlines of trees against a starless black sky. But as her eyes adjusted, she noticed a pale shadow standing against the background, almost like a ghost. It moved toward her window, like it knew she had seen it.

  And then Virginia was screaming.

  1:00 a.m.

  “BENNY! BENNY! BENNY! BENNY!”

  The screams were hysterical, like they were coming from an unhinged lunatic or someone waking up from a nightmare.

  Zaire had been awake for an hour, listening to Gottfried crashing around the common room sounding drunk, which was pretty weird for a Wednesday night. She’d been waiting for Virginia to go to bed so she could see what the hell he was up to. But Virginia just kept hanging around, wandering the hall and giggling idiotically. What were they even doing hanging out together? Since when were Gottfried and Virginia Leeds friends?

  The screams didn’t stop. Zaire flung her door open and saw Virginia on the floor. She was backing away from her room like a deranged crab.

  Other doors opened. “What’s going on?” Chrissie White asked, rubbing her eyes.

  Zaire knelt down next to Virginia. “Bloody hell, what’s wrong?” There was a rip in the gold skirt she’d loaned her, she couldn’t help noticing.

  Virginia pointed to her room. Her face was completely white. “He was there. He was watching me.”

  “Who? Benny?”

  “NO!” Virginia shouted. “I need to call Benny!”

  Zaire got up and flicked on the light in Virginia’s room. She looked around. “There’s no one here,” Zaire said. “You were having a dream.”

  Virginia sat pressed against the wall, breathing heavily. After a moment she started to calm down.

  “See? You’re waking up now. You’re fine. Go to bed, guys; she’s fine,” Zaire said to Chrissie and the other girls. She turned back to Virginia. “So . . . wild night with Gottfried, huh?”

  Virginia was holding her head in her hands. “Huh?”

  “I heard you coming in with Gottfried. What were you two doing?”

  “I don’t know,” Virginia said. She sounded like she was about to cry. “I don’t feel very good.”

  “Well yeah, you’re clearly trashed. Come on.” She helped Virginia get up. “Go back to sleep. Nighty-night. Bye.” She pushed Virginia into her room, turned off the light, and shut the door. Zaire knew she was being brusque, but she was eager to get rid of her so she could get Gottfried alone. Zaire had assumed Virginia liked that Scooby guy she was always lurking around with. But maybe Scooby was gay like everyone said, and Virginia had given up on him and set her sights on Gottfried. If Zaire had known that, she definitely wouldn’t have picked out her hottest skirt to lend her. She would have picked something ugly and beige.

  Zaire listened at Virginia’s door for a moment to make sure she wasn’t coming back out. Then she dashed back to her room to smear some concealer under her eyes and do some contouring. She brushed her hair, tightened the belt of her blue satin robe, and snuck down the hall to the common room. As she peeked in the doorway, she expected to see Gottfried flopped on the sofa, maybe with that cute, spacey look on his face, his beautiful limbs sprawled out in all directions. But the common room was empty.

  “Hello?” she said. No answer. Where did he go? Zaire was sure she hadn’t heard him going up the stairs to the boys’ hall. She walked around the room to make sure he wasn’t lying on the floor or something. There was no one. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Even when they were dating, he’d been impossible to predict, and impossible to control.

  Thursday

  The fountain, 8:00 a.m.

  The sun had just risen over the top of the building when he saw Virginia. She was eating a banana and drinking a hot chocolate and reading the newspaper. Benny was surprised—he’d told Virginia she should read the newspaper every day to keep up with local crime coverage, but he hadn’t expected her to actually do it. He also hadn’t expected to see her looking so normal after last night.

  The twenty-minute ride from the public library to the Boarders had been possibly the most stressful of his life. Trying to keep Gottfried upright in his seat, trying to keep up a steady stream of chatter so neither Gottfried nor Virginia would have a chance to drunkenly open their mouths. “I heard that reading aloud can enhance memory retention,” he’d announced to the car. “So I think I’ll read aloud from my history book in preparation for my test next Monday. ‘Tokugawa Yoshinobu was the last shogun of the Edo period of Japan.’ ”

  “TO-KU-GA-WA!” Gottfried had boomed in a cartoonish Japanese accent, while Virginia giggled in the front seat. Benny had continued reading, making his voice even louder. At which point Gottfried started barking random observations about whatever they passed on the road. “That house has a large door. This red light is very long for no traffic. In Deutschland we use the kilometer. Should the world not be in agreement of its measuring?” He was particularly upset by a Waffle House whose sign was not fully illuminated, reading AFFLE HO SE. Mrs. Flax had said nothing, her mouth pressed in a tight, disapproving line as she drove.

  Virginia had been so out of it Benny had been forced to walk her to the door with his arm wrapped around her. It felt weird. He and Virginia had barely touched before, and now he was practically carrying her, her whole body leaning against him a
nd his arm enclosing her waist. He’d even felt her skin a few times as her sweater bunched up. And now his mother probably thought they were in love or something. He’d dreaded getting back in the car and braced himself for one of his mother’s scary lectures. But all she’d done was give him a deeply disapproving look and say, “I thought the Model UN was for serious students.”

  And now here was Virginia, reading the Atlanta Journal-Constitution and eating breakfast as if it were an ordinary morning. A breeze rustled the pages of Virginia’s paper and created a thin, cool mist from the fountain’s streaming water.

  Benny came up behind her. “Hey.”

  Virginia jumped, almost sloshing her hot chocolate. “Benny, hi. You surprised me.”

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

  “Oh, not too bad. Gottfried’s dead to the world, though. He fell asleep on the common-room sofa and wouldn’t even get up.” She lifted the paper. “Did you know Mr. Choi had a wife and a daughter? They live in Gainesville.” Everyone made fun of Gainesville, a sad suburban dump whose water tower desperately proclaimed WHERE SUCCESS LIVES!

  “It’s a closed funeral,” she said, “at some Korean church. Maybe we could sneak in, except I don’t know how we’d get all the way to Gainesville.”

  Benny sat down next to her at the edge of the fountain. He looked at the photo in the paper. Mrs. Choi looked so normal. Like a nice vice principal or a bingo caller. Had she known she was married to a pervert? Did she have enough money to get by? When Benny’s dad had his accident, the family got compensation from the company, enough to pay for Rodrigo and physical therapy and making the whole house wheelchair accessible during the months when Mr. Flax couldn’t walk. What would Mrs. Choi get? Anything?

  Benny blinked, snapping himself out of it. Lift off, he told himself. Whenever he found himself getting bogged down in the human element of a mystery, Benny tried to imagine himself lifting off in a plane and flying far above it. You had clearer perspective at thirty thousand feet.