"Hey," he said. "Listen, do you remember that guy Ethan?"
"I guess I don't understand," Zander said. His arm around Bonnie's shoulder was strong and solidly reassuring, and his T-shirt, where she had buried her face against him, smel ed of clean cotton and fabric softener. "What were you and your friends fighting about?"
"The point is, they don't trust my judgment," Bonnie said, wiping her eyes. "If it had been either of them, they wouldn't have been so quick to jump to conclusions."
"Conclusions about what?" Zander asked, but Bonnie didn't answer. After a moment, Zander reached out and ran one finger gently along her jawline and over her lips, his eyes intent on her face. "Of course you can stay here as long as you want to, Bonnie. I'm at your service," he said in an oddly formal tone.
Bonnie looked around Zander's room with interest.
She'd never been here before; in fact, she'd had to cal him to find out what dorm he lived in, and how weird was that for a girlfriend to not know? But if she'd tried to picture what his room would be like, she would have assumed it would be messy and very guyish: old pizza boxes on the floor, dirty laundry, weird smel s. Maybe a poster with a half-naked girl on it. But, in fact, it was just the opposite. Everything was very bare and uncluttered: nothing on top of the school-issued dresser and desk, no pictures on the wal s or rug on the floor. The bed was neatly made.
The single bed. That they were both sitting on. Her and her boyfriend.
Bonnie felt a flush rise up over her face. She silently cursed her habit of blushing - she was sure that even her ears were bright red. She'd just asked her boyfriend if she could move into his room. And sure, he was gorgeous and lovely and kissing him was probably the most amazing experience of her life so far, but she'd just started kissing him last night. What if he thought she was suggesting something more?
Zander was eyeing her thoughtful y as Bonnie blushed.
"You know," he said, "I can sleep on the floor. I'm not - um -
expecting - " He broke off and now he was blushing, too.
The sight of flustered Zander immediately made Bonnie feel better. She patted him on the arm. "I know," she said. "I told Meredith and Elena you were a good guy." Zander frowned. "What? Do they think I'm not?" When Bonnie didn't answer, he slowly released her, leaning back to take a close look at her face. "Bonnie? When you had this big fight with your friends, were you fighting about me?" Bonnie shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Okay. Wow." Zander ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I know Elena and I didn't real y hit it off, but I'm sure we'l get along better when we get to know each other. This wil al blow over then. It's not worth it to stop being friends with them."
"It's not - " Tears sprang into Bonnie's eyes. Zander was being so sweet, and he had no idea how Elena and Meredith had wronged him. "I can't tel you," she said.
"Bonnie?" Zander pul ed her closer. "Don't cry. It can't be that bad." Bonnie began to cry harder, tears streaming down her cheeks, and he held on to her. "Just tel me," he said.
"It's not that they just don't like you, Zander," she said between sobs. "They think you might be the kil er."
"What? Why?" Zander recoiled, almost leaping across the bed away from her, his face white and shocked.
Bonnie explained what Meredith thought she saw, her impression of Zander's hair beneath the hoodie of the attacker she chased off. "Which is so unfair," she finished,
"because even if she did see what she thought she saw, it's not like you're the only person with real y light blond hair on campus. They're being ridiculous."
Zander sucked in a long breath, his eyes wide, and sat stil and silent for a few seconds. Then he reached out and put a gentle hand under Bonnie's chin, turning her face so they were gazing straight into each other's eyes.
"I would never hurt you, Bonnie," he said slowly. "You know me, you see me. Do you think I'm a kil er?"
"No," Bonnie said, her eyes fil ing with tears. "I don't. I never did."
Zander leaned forward and kissed her, his lips soft against hers, as if they were sealing some kind of pact.
Bonnie closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss.
She was fal ing in love with Zander, she knew. And, despite the fact that he had run off so suddenly last night, just before Samantha's murder, she was sure he could never be a kil er.
Chapter Thirty
"Cappuccino and a croissant?" the waitress said, and, at Elena's nod, set them down on the table. Elena pushed her notebooks aside to make room. Midterms were coming up, on top of everything else that was happening. Elena had tried studying in her room but was too distracted by the sight of Bonnie's empty bed. She and Meredith were al wrong without Bonnie.
She hadn't gotten much done here at the cafe, either, despite getting one of the prime big outdoor tables that she could spread her books out on. She'd tried, but her mind kept circling back to Samantha's death.
Samantha was such a nice girl, Elena thought. Elena remembered how her eyes lit up when she laughed and the way she bounced on the bal s of her feet as if she was bursting to move, run, dance, too ful of energy to sit stil .
Meredith didn't make new friends that easily, but the wary coolness she usual y wore with strangers had relaxed around Samantha.
When Elena had left the dorm, Meredith was on the phone with Alaric. Maybe he would know what to say, how to comfort her. Unwil ing to break into their conversation, Elena left her a note indicating where she would be if Meredith needed her.