“Only a little, I guess. Just since school started. Her mom knows my foster mom, and there was a spot open in the house. She says I’m a shoo-in for membership so they let me have the room. I just got lucky.”
“Foster mom?” I say, repeating the obvious thing.
But when her eyes flicker down I realize she doesn’t feel entirely good about this. She probably thinks being at the sorority is moving up in the world. She's probably running away from something that legitimately she needs to escape from.
The timer goes off and I depress the plunger in the coffee pot, then place it on the counter next to a large mug for her. I don’t have half-and-half, but I do have whipping cream. As she takes the carton from me, my hand brushes against her tiny fingers and seems to spark. I almost expect to see it light up or something.
She feels it too, and her lips part in a perfect, pale pink oval. I pull my hand back reflexively, and try to think of something else to do. I should be getting busy cleaning up the kitchen. Anything to keep my mind occupied, keep my eyes from wandering over her.
I know I'm inspecting her too closely. I know how ridiculous this is. I just need to get her out of here and back into her own life before I do something stupid.
But somehow, I can't help myself. “Kita...” I start. “We should talk a little bit more about last night.”
“What's your name?” she asks me suddenly from behind her coffee cup.
“Oh,” I say, slightly speechless. How could I be so rude? “I’m Daniel. Daniel Lockwood.”
She nods slowly as though finding the sound of my name acceptable.
“What do you remember about last night?” I begin again, more gently.
She presses her lips together. “Um, not a lot. I usually don't drink. I guess somebody put something in my Diet Coke?” She chuckles nervously.
“Do you remember anything that happened?”
She bites her lower lip, drawing it in between her perfect white teeth.
“I remember arriving. I remember standing with the other pledges in the middle of the room. It was really hot. Like, really hot. There was music that seemed to be so loud I could feel it through the floor. Oh! Wait, I also remember… no, that can't be right.”
Her voice drifts off as her expression clouds. Did she just remember something disturbing?
“Kita, what is it?”
“It's just, well, I must've met you there, right? What did you see?”
I'm not sure what to tell her. “Kita, it's not that I saw anything that you did or said. I don't want you to think that. I’m not suggesting you did anything wrong. But I've seen the bake sale before and —”
She frowns slightly. “Okay, so what is this about? If you didn't see anything —”
“No, when I arrived it was my intention to stop the event.”
“Wait, what? You just decided… you just stopped it? Daniel, that event is for charity —”
“That's a lie.”
Her eyes open wide, her lips pressed together so tight they almost disappear into a line. I watch her small hands ball into fists on the counter.
“Those are my friends, Daniel. It is for charity. It's an event that's been around forever.”
“Kita, let me ask you something. Did you see any actual baked goods?”
She shifts in her seat, casting her eyes to the side. “You know what, I don't think you know what you are talking about. I think that maybe you should just take me back now. Please.”
I can see I’ve upset her, but I really think she needs to know. If I don’t tell her, how else is she going to find out? I try to keep my voice quiet to keep from escalating the conversation.
“I’ve never seen any baked goods. What they usually do is offer the cherry pie. And that's just a joke. The cherry pie is you, Kita. The pledges. Your… innocence. Your beauty. They make like it's all for show, but that hasn't been the way things have actually gone.”
She edges off her seat, and I can see her eyebrows crinkle in the middle as she scowls. Why doesn’t she believe me?