THE DVD FROM Happy Taco was playing when Adam Kessler followed Jane into her living room. The television was a large one, and as Adam walked in the video version of Adam was walking into Happy Taco, trailing Trevor Blinn.
“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes turning to the screen.
“The night David died. You were at Happy Taco right after we were.”
He turned to her in shock. “Where did you get that?”
“That’s the first thing you say to me, Adam?”
He didn’t answer, he looked back at the video.
“The police and the investigators weren’t interested once David and I left. I was. You know how I always stay at the movies until the credits play.”
His handsome face twisted into a helpless smile. “Well, so, I was there. It’s a popular place.”
“You could have mentioned to me that you were there right after I was.”
“What difference does it make?”
She pointed at the screen. “You come in with Trevor. You look around. You don’t order. You’re looking for someone. Is it me?”
Adam sat down on the couch. Staring at his sneakers. Then he looked up at her. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I stopped by your house. You weren’t there. Your mom asked me to find you. She didn’t believe your texts that you were studying with a friend.”
“Why didn’t she come looking for me herself?”
“I don’t know.” Adam put his face in his hands. “I don’t know.”
She sat next to him. “So, what, you and Trevor were both looking for me?”
“I don’t know why he was there. We both arrived separately, I said hi to him, he almost ignored me. Then we walked in together.”
She thought of Trevor, watching her and David’s exchange in the parking lot. “Was Trevor looking for me, too? Or for David?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
“So, all this time, after the crash when I was trying to piece together my memories, you never felt you should tell me this?”
He tried to take her hand and she pulled away from him. He folded his hands back in his lap. “What was the point? I never saw you that night. You didn’t even remember me as a friend. I was a stranger to you in those early weeks.”
Then she wondered if he was lying. It was only a matter of minutes between her departure and his arrival. Did he see her leaving with David? Did they encounter each other in the parking lot? If so, why would he still have entered the restaurant?
“OK, you never saw me. You still could have mentioned it.”
“I don’t know what the point would be, we didn’t see each other. And any mention of that night seemed to upset you.”
“I mean you could have told me,” she said, her voice tight with anger, “that my mother had you out searching for me. Is that what you harboring me in your room is? Do you report back to my mom on my moods, what nights I stay, how crazy I am?”
“Yes, Jane,” he said, “I spy on you. That’s why I risk getting thrown off campus so you can sleep there at night, or risk getting into trouble for hacking your dining-plan card, and why I spend nights away from my room so you can have privacy. All so I can spy on you for your mother.”
The sarcasm hit her like a fist. “All right,” she said after a moment. “I realize that sounds a little paranoid.”
“I don’t have warm feelings for your mom, to be frank,” Adam said, softening his tone. “She’s done nothing really to help you or to get you off the streets.” He stood up.
“You give a lot and don’t ask for anything in return.”
Something dark flashed behind his eyes. “The curse of the nice guy,” Adam said. “I have a girlfriend, thanks. Who is not that patient with me spending so much time around you.”
“Adam…” Her reflex was to say I’m sorry, but she wasn’t. She had no reason to be.
“Fair enough. I guess I should have told you. But I never found you that night, I never saw you or David”—here he got up and turned away from the images playing out on the TV—“and…”
“You know something.” A prickle of dread touched her spine.
“Your mom was afraid you might hurt yourself. But she didn’t tell me that until later.”
“Because of the suicide note. But Mom has always denied that the note meant anything. Always.”
Adam said nothing. “Look, I was worried about you, regardless of what your mom said. You were full of secrets back then. We told each other everything, it seemed, but you were keeping stuff from me. And I think it had to do with David.” His voice dropped to a sneer. “Mr. Perfect.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what you two were doing. If I knew that, I would tell you.”
She sat down on the couch and paused the video. “Supposedly we were running away to, like, Canada.”
He laughed, and then saw it was not a joke. “What? Why would you?”
“You’ve never heard that as a rumor?”
“No.”
“How do you know my secrets were about David?”
“You were with him that night, it must be.”
She thought of what Trevor had said. “Did I talk much about my father and his death?”
Now he tried to take her hand, to comfort her, and she pulled away. “Jane, don’t.”
“Did I?”
“No. It upset you too much. You didn’t like to talk about him.”
But David had brought him up.
“So you, what, decided to look for me?”
“I came over, that wasn’t unusual, your mom let me in and wanted to know where you were. I don’t think she believed your texts. She and Mrs. Hall were both here.”
“Doing what?”
“I think maybe having an argument. I don’t know about what. It felt like I had interrupted something between them. But I don’t know why they would argue. She asked if I’d go look for you, see if you were at any of our usual haunts. So I went to the Starbucks, I went to Happy Taco, and I ran into Trevor there, looking for you and David.”
“Why was Trevor looking for me?”
“Well, he said he was looking for David and that you were with David.” He rubbed his face. “I mean, the whole thought of going out to look for someone is so ancient. We have cell phones. But you wouldn’t answer again.”
“Did I owe you an explanation for where I was?” Something here was off. He wasn’t being entirely truthful.
“No, you didn’t,” he said evenly. “And after the crash, you didn’t even remember me. At least you remembered Kamala and Trevor and David. But we didn’t know each other except in high school. You had to get to know me all over again.” His voice softened. “You were my best friend, Jane, it was hard to lose you. It was hard not to help you. I’m glad you’ve let me help you now.”
The curse of the nice guy, she thought. “All right. I forgive you.”
He started to speak and then simply said, “That’s great. Your forgiveness. Did you bring me over to see this video or did you need my help once again?”
Later she wished she had recognized the bite in his words. But, preoccupied, she didn’t. “I need your help. Will you drive me?”