How Perfect You Are (Carlson College Mysteries Book 1)

by Isabel Fox

  7

  Half an hour later, Jenna, Brooklyn, Robby, Paul, and I were all seated around the table at The Painted Pony, a restaurant that I had been unaware existed until that point. In spite of the odd name, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the menu looked pretty awesome. We got a huge platter of the absolute best sweet potato fries I had ever tasted for the table, and I ordered a Caribbean inspired burger for which the description alone was enough to make my mouth water.

  “So,” Robby, who was sitting on my left, started. I glanced up, surprised that he had torn his gaze away from Jenna. But she was deep in conversation with Paul, and I supposed poor Robby was starting to get the hint that he was the third wheel in that particular situation. “You go to Carlson too, right? What’s your major?”

  “English,” I replied, sipping my water. “You?”

  “Chemical Engineering,” Robby replied.

  “Oh! I didn’t realize we had that major at Carlson,” I said, surprised. Maybe Robby was smarter than he looked.

  “Wait,” Robby paused, his eyes rolling back in his head like he might be looking for something back there. “I mean computer engineering!”

  So much for smarter than he looked.

  “Ah. I can see how you might confuse the two,” I said dryly. I tried to catch Brooklyn’s attention so we could commiserate, but her attention was on Paul, who was recounting some story about whitewater rafting.

  “So, I guess you guys do outdoorsy things a lot,” I said to Robby, hoping the conversation would liven up if he was speaking about a more interesting topic than his surely bleak future academic prospects.

  “Oh, all the time!” Sure enough, Robby’s eyes brightened. He launched into a detailed account of every outdoor pastime he was involved in, many of which I had heard of and a few I had not. Rock climbing seemed to be his main hobby, however, and he was still recounting some of the best nearby locations for it when our food arrived.

  “This looks amazing,” Jenna said as the waitress placed a giant chicken sandwich in front of her. I agreed, marveling at the sheer size of my burger. The melted cheese was sagging appealingly around the edges, and it smelled heavenly.

  Out of habit I glanced around at everyone else’s plates, curious to see what they had ordered. Amber always said I suffered from major plate envy. I tended to want what someone else had, even when my own food was perfectly delicious. Brooklyn had ordered a burger similar to mine. Paul and Robby, however, were both already eating with gusto, something I couldn’t name on their forks.

  “Uh...what’s that?” Brooklyn pointed with her fork towards a beige lump on Paul’s plate.

  “Tempeh,” Paul said around a mouth full of the stuff. “Soy,” he added, seeing the apparently blank looks on all our faces.

  “And kale!” Robby added enthusiastically. “Wanna try? It’s great!” He tilted his plate towards me and Brooklyn.

  “No, thanks,” I replied, shuddering. I had nothing against anyone who was into the vegan scene, but I personally found tofu and all related products revolting, as did Brooklyn. She, however, was less tactful.

  “Ew, no,” she replied, taking a massive bite of her burger to compensate. Paul looked a little shocked, and I shrugged and shot him an apologetic look.

  “So, what were you saying about rock climbing in Panama?” I prompted Robby, hoping to move on to a more neutral topic before we had some kind of vegan versus carnivore breakdown.

  “Oh, right,” Robby quickly resumed his discussion of his and Paul’s lifelong dream, which was apparently to spend a few years after graduation teaching rock climbing to impoverished children in Central America.

  While neither one seemed to have any clue about any of the practical aspects of this endeavor, I had to give it to them for having a lot of passion. By the time Robby finished outlining a 10 week backpacking/rock climbing trip he wanted to take his future students on, we had all finished our lunch and I found myself listening intently to a detailed description of the climbing levels of various locations in Nicaragua.

  “Wow,” I said as Robby gradually trailed off. “That sounds-”

  “Really cool,” Jenna cut in, smiling. “Like, absolutely amazing. I’d love to go to Central America!”

  “You would?” Brooklyn sounded astonished.

  “Of course!” Jenna said, shooting Brooklyn a look that clearly indicated she should shut up.

  “Well, it sounds like it would be a really great experience,” I said politely to Robby, who I noticed was looking at me closely. At my words, his face lit up.

  “You really think so?” he asked, seeming thrilled with my approval.

  “Yeah, definitely,” I nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “I mean, if your thing is rock climbing. Which, clearly, yours is.”

  Robby continued grinning like a toddler who had discovered mom’s secret stash of chocolate, and I smiled back awkwardly. I glanced away and noticed Jenna and Brooklyn exchanging a look.

  “Well, boys, lunch was great,” Brooklyn finally said, pushing her chair away from the table. “But we’ve got to get going. Lots more to do today,” she said apologetically. Jenna gave both boys a big hug, lingering just a little longer on Paul, and promised to get in touch later. I waved and Robby waved back, still grinning goofily.

  Back in the car, Jenna and Brooklyn were quiet until we got on the road. Then, all at once, they both started giggling hysterically.

  “What?” I asked, lowering my sunglasses to glance at them. “What are you laughing at?”

  “You!” Brooklyn declared at the same time Jenna said, “Robby!”

  “Wait, what?” I asked. It occurred to me, not for the first time, that I said “what” a shocking amount when Jenna and Brooklyn were around. Whether this was testament to the strange ways their minds worked or my lack of comprehension, I wasn’t fully certain.

  “He is so into you, Cass,” Brooklyn said while Jenna nodded in agreement. “And you didn’t even realize! I swear, the way he was watching you eat that burger, you probably could have converted his vegan self right there on the spot.”

  “Um, ew,” I replied, feeling vaguely uncomfortable.

  “What did you think of him?” Jenna asked excitedly. I shrugged, not really sure what to say. I wasn’t exactly interested, but I didn’t want to offend Jenna. She clearly thought this was a fabulous idea.

  “He seems nice. Cute. Not too sharp, grant you, but sweet. Maybe a touch too passionate about rock climbing for my taste, but overall...not bad,” I offered.

  “Not bad! Jesus, what are you hoping for, Brad Pitt? You guys would be super cute together,” Brooklyn insisted.

  “Hey, we should go out with them together! Like a double date,” Jenna suggested.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said, feeling suddenly noncommittal. Robby really did seem like a perfectly nice guy, and I had just been lamenting my lack of dating prospects, but I couldn’t see myself dating someone so into rock climbing and the outdoors. An occasional hike, a visit to the college’s gym once or twice a week for a slow jog on the treadmill, and running around at work was about the extent of my exercise habit.

  There was also the small detail of not grasping the difference between computer engineering and chemical engineering. That was somewhat concerning.

  “It can’t hurt, Cass,” Brooklyn pressed. “Even if he’s not exactly your type, it could still be fun! And you never know. Maybe you’ll wind up liking him more than you think.”

  “I guess,” I agreed, realizing she was right. In spite of my slight reticence, I felt a slight flutter of excitement. “I might be willing to give it a shot. If he’s interested, that is,” I added to Jenna, who I knew was absolutely dying to text him.

  “Oh, I am SO sure he is,” she bubbled, her fingers already flying across the screen of her phone as she composed a text. “Don’t worry, I’ll set up something really cool and casual. Maybe we can do a movie later this week. When are you working?”

  “Tomorrow morning, then M
onday and Wednesday after class. Maybe Friday. I’m not sure yet.”

  “But Friday is fall break!” Brooklyn said, indignant on my behalf.

  “Try telling that to Susan. The concept of school breaks is not one she understands,” I said sourly. This was nothing new. I spent at least a portion of every school break working.

  “Okay, well, I’ll work something out. Don’t you worry!” Jenna said, her fingers still moving rapidly while Brooklyn peered over her shoulder to read the message.

  “I’m not worried!” I insisted, but Jenna didn’t seem to hear me. She and Brooklyn argued over the exact wording of her text the rest of the drive, leaving me to stress about my not yet confirmed date.

  8

  I dropped Brooklyn and Jenna off at the apartment complex where they both rented studios just down the hall from each other. They both left with a flurry of waves and hugs and then they were gone, leaving me to realize just how quiet and calm my car was without them. While I had enjoyed our little adventure, I was anxious to get home and start chipping away at my to-do list.

  Once home I started one of my favorite upbeat playlists on my phone. A second wind kept me going long enough to finish my reading for class, do another load of laundry, and straighten up the living room. I was just completing the unpleasant task of cleaning Willow’s litter box when I heard the front door open a few hours later.

  “Hey, Amber, you’ll never guess what-” I started, walking into the living room. I stopped when I saw not just Amber but her brother standing there, looking annoyingly gorgeous.

  “Hey, Cass!” James said in a friendly voice. He was dressed in khakis, a sweater, and a collared shirt, looking like he’d just come from work at the student legal aid center. I was suddenly very aware that the yoga pants I was wearing had a hole in the upper thigh, and my sweatshirt had seen better days for sure.

  “They towed my car!” Amber said, cutting her brother off. “Can you believe that? You’re supposed to be able to park in that lot for free on the weekends!”

  “No, remember? They changed that this year. I didn’t realize that’s where you were leaving it, or I would have told you! When are you going to get it back?” I asked.

  “Soon,” James replied, cutting Amber off before she could start a tirade about the nonsensical parking regulations in Carlson. “Unfortunately, there was no one in the office when we called who could help us sort out the problem. So in the meantime, I get to be her chauffeur.”

  “Lucky you,” I arched an eyebrow.

  “Tell me about it,” James said, though good naturedly. Amber rolled her eyes and made her way into the kitchen.

  “Oh, thank god there’s coffee,” she sighed dramatically as she poured herself a cup.

  “Yeah, I needed some. I’ve been trying to knock some things off my to-do list while I have time,” I said, “and by the way, there’s some laundry in the dryer that I think is mostly yours.”

  “OKay, I’ll get it later,” Amber replied noncommittally. She was never one to get in a hurry with household chores. On one notable occasion, a grand total of 90% of Amber’s wardrobe had been in the laundry bin. Well, in the laundry bin and overflowing around it. Only when she realized that she had no more underwear had she finally started the Herculean task of washing it, and not before she had strongly considered the relative merits of going commando.

  “You’d better,” I replied. “I’m not doing any more until everything’s out of the dryer and folded, and I might have a date this week. I need to wash the dress I wore last night. It’s my favorite.”

  “A date!” Amber squealed excitedly as James appeared in the kitchen doorway. “With who?”

  I briefly recounted our hike and running into Paul and Robby, feeling somewhat self conscious to be discussing a potential date in front of James. We were friendly because of our shared connection to Amber, but he rarely hung out with us, or anything. I mainly tried to play it cool around him, admiring his dark hair, strong jaw, and well muscled body from afar, a kind of quiet crush. I strongly suspected he saw me mainly as his little sister’s best friend, which I was, after all, and I didn’t want to get the reputation as “that friend of Amber’s with the silly schoolgirl crush.”

  “A rock climber?” James repeated after I had finished. “I have a hard time seeing you rock climbing, Cass. Don’t you hate heights? I seem to distinctly remember you using that excuse when Amber invited you to come with us to Six Flags last summer.”

  “Sort of. But it’s not as bad as it used to be,” I replied defensively. “Besides, we’re probably just going to a movie with Jenna and Paul. Unless they’ve moved the theater to the top of a cliff it shouldn’t come up.”

  “You’re hardly one to talk,” Amber interjected, shooting an amused look at James. “Didn’t you go out with that girl who was super into golf for, like, five months? You detest golf!”

  “Eww, golf?” I laughed. “Golf is so boring!”

  “I agree,” replied James. “And Anna’s insistence on golfing four times a week is a large part of the reason we are no longer dating. Not that a couple needs to have every single thing in common, but I’ll admit it helps if you don’t actively despise each other’s hobbies.”

  “I don’t have any hobbies worth despising,” I mused. “I work. I go to class. I read. Check out videos of cats online. Watch entirely too much Netflix. Who in their right mind would hate Netflix?”

  “Okay, maybe you need to get a hobby,” Amber laughed. “Oh, maybe we could play tennis sometime! I’ve been meaning to start up with that again.”

  “Oh, so that’s why you’ve left that racket in the living room for months,” I inclined my head in the approximate direction of the racket.

  “Okay, okay, I’ve been a little busy lately. I promise I’ll clean up, if you promise to go with me to the tennis court sometime,” Amber bargained.

  “My roommate plays tennis, too,” James added. “Maybe we could play doubles sometime,” he suggested, seeming oddly enthusiastic about playing tennis with his sister and her hobby-less roommate.

  “Does everyone besides me play tennis?” I proclaimed, slightly shocked. “Fine, I’ll go sometime. But you all have to promise not to laugh at me, or get mad when I accidentally hit you with the racket instead of the ball. Now, I’m going to go shower. I’m gross after hiking and cleaning all day.”

  Upstairs I showered quickly, then retreated to my room, planning to take the time to actually blow dry my hair and do my makeup. I was still feeling slightly embarrassed that James had seen me in my grungy, sweaty hiking attire. I felt the need to demonstrate that I was capable of not looking like a complete hobo.

  Sitting down at my vanity, I dug through my makeup bag, smoothing, dabbing, blending, brightening, and lining myself with the contents. When my face was finished to my satisfaction, my eyes looked large and bright while my skin almost glowed with the help of a little foundation.

  Ready to move on to my hair, I unwound the towel from my head. My damp locks fell down to my shoulders in a tangled mess. Reaching for my brush to smooth it out, I had just started to run it through my hair when I felt like something was different. I held my brush in front of my face while I tried to put my finger on it. When I realized what it was, I could only sit, staring for a moment, before I hurried downstairs to show Amber.

  9

  “Okay, Cassie, you’re going to have to run that by me again,” Amber said, her mouth full of cinnamon roll left over from that morning. She stood in the laundry nook off the kitchen, cinnamon roll grasped in one hand, tossing clothes into the washer with the other. “What’s wrong with your brush?”

  “It’s clean!” I said again. I nervously tightened the belt of my robe, very aware that James, though he hadn’t said much, was watching me intently. “It wasn’t clean yesterday. I haven’t cleaned it in….well, kind of awhile. I even remember that I was just thinking yesterday that I needed to, you know, get the clump of hair out.”

  I lowered my voice slightly
on the last part. It was slightly embarrassing to admit I had a bad habit of not cleaning out my hair brush all that often. It was one of my few less than tidy tendencies. Surely other long haired girls had the same problem. I briefly hoped James wouldn’t think I was some kind of gross, shedding freak. But that was beside the point.

  “But I didn’t have time before work,” I continued. “Now my brush is clean, no tangled hair in sight, but I didn’t do it!”

  Amber stopped tossing clothes into the machine, which was fortunate as I noticed she had been about to toss a bright pink skirt in with what was mostly whites. She turned and looked at me with an odd expression on her face.

  “So, are you saying someone took the hair out of your brush?” James asked, sounding like he very much doubted he was understanding the situation correctly.

  “Yes,” I nodded in confirmation.

  “Amber, did you maybe….” he trailed off, looking at his sister.

  “Yeah, I’ve been missing my Chia pet from childhood so much that I took the hair from Cassie’s brush to try and recreate one,” Amber snorted. “Come on. I can barely keep up with my own laundry. Why would I clean Cassie’s brush? Are you sure you didn’t do it and forget, Cass?”

  “No,” I said adamantly. “I had that thought about cleaning it yesterday before work, and then again when I was getting ready to meet you guys for dinner, but I didn’t do it because I was in such a hurry,” I explained, slower now. “I haven’t taken the trash in my room out since earlier last week, and- I know this is kind of gross- but I checked and there is no hair in the trash.”

  “But who would take your hair? And also, why?” James asked, sounding part baffled and part horrified. He was right, of course. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would want a gross clump of my loose hair. It wouldn’t be good for much except clogging drains or supplementing a bird’s nest.