“You broughtCrime and Punishmentto the pool.”
“It seemed on-brand.”
“If your brand is pretentious pseudo-intellectual.”
“I figured I could force myself to read it while I was here.”
He has a point: the Wi-Fi is spotty and you can’t fake-murder people 24/7. I want to ask if it’s for school, but if he says yes, I’ll feel like a slacker. And if the answer is no, I’ll look like an intellectual lightweight, sitting here with my glossy magazine.
A window opens on the second floor and Mr. Gutierrez sticks his head out to yell, “Buzzer.”
Felix looks from his bag to me. “I need to run upstairs. Can I leave my stuff here?”
“Are you worried I’m going to sell it on the black market?”
“I was thinking more like throw it in the pool.”
“Too obvious. What would my alibi even be?”
Felix seems satisfied with my response, sliding his sandals on before disappearing into the building. Alone again, I try to slip into vacation mode but I’m still twitchy from our sparring match. I’m not used to second-guessing myself at Castle Claude. The people who live here think I’m miraculous because I can get out of the pool without using a ladder, never mind the fact that my skin mostly stays in one place.
With Felix here, there’s a whole new dimension. What does he think of me, what do I think of him? It’s throwing me off my game. One minute he’s taunting me, the next he acts like we should be besties… unless that’s also a ploy? Or a theater kid thing? I like to think I’m good at reading people, but he’s slippery. I can’t even decide if he’s handsome or too annoying to be attractive.
Okay, yes, those first few minutes at the airport, I remember thinking,Huh, a cute guy is talking to me; maybe I’m entering a new phase of life where this type of thing happens to me?Now I can’t admit to that spark of interest until I know whether it was mutual, because otherwise I’m giving him all the power.
There is a nonzero chance that the real reason I slipped fake poison in his drink last night was that murder seemed easier than trying to flirt, per Claude’s stage directions. I wouldn’t even know where to start playingthatgame with Felix…
Oh no. It’s like the word “flirting” unlocked something in my brain. Isthatwhy he asked if I was texting with my boyfriend? The idea that Felix was testing the waters for reasons other than teasing is probably something that should have occurred to me ten minutes ago, while the conversation was happening. So much for my legendary detective skills!
In my defense, his tactics were also lacking. If I wanted to know if someone was single, I’d ask Mrs. A because that woman is a repository of gossip. Much more efficient that way.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t solve my brand-new problem. How am I supposed to act normal around him now?
CHAPTER SIXTHE BODY WITH THE BEANS
The creak of the door opening puts me on high alert. I can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or the humidity making my scalp prickle with sweat, so I opt to play it cool, at least metaphorically. Which obviously means pretending to be asleep.
The approaching footsteps stop next to my lounge chair. I have the distinct impression I’m being looked at, and it’s not even subtle. Maybe he’s trying to get a reaction.
“I didn’t touch your stuff,” I say without opening my eyes.
“You can touch my stuff any time,” says a voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Felix.
My eyes fly open. Hopefully the sunglasses hide my panic from Sports Car Guy, who is staring down at me like I’m in the glass display case at a bakery.
“Miss me?” His smile displays all his blindingly white teeth, which glow even brighter against his deep tan.
“No,” I say, startled into honestly. You don’t miss people you were hoping to never see again, and Claude’s sister’s sports car–driving nephew is definitely on that list.
“Bradley Odell.”
I nod, pretending not to notice the hand he holds out. This guy is 100 percent the type to make a handshake creepy. His polo might as well be painted on, the better to show off his gym-rat arms. Some people would probably find him attractive, but to me the overall effect is exhausting. This is somebody who works on his appearance alot.
“You should move into the sun.” He jerks his head at the other side of the pool. “Get a little color.”
Oh good. Tips on making myself more appealing to random men! I make a noncommittal noise, which is all the encouragement he needs.
“This is a sweet spot.” To my relief, he’s checking out the pool area instead of ogling me. “Put in a hot tub, get a gas grill, and you’d be set.”
