She spun around, looking sheepish. “Lead the way.”
“How have you never been to the dining hall?” I demanded. “It’s November.”
Her face closed down. “I just order in. It’s easier.”
“March.” I pointed at the granite steps. “You just need your ID. It doesn’t get any easier than that.” I showed her where to swipe in at the doorway, then herded her into the kitchen for a tray. “And don’t forget silverware,” I said. “That’s a rookie mistake.”
An older woman behind the serving counter lifted a plate off the stack. “What’ll it be?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs.” Since a look of horror was dawning on Lianne’s face, I pointed toward the doorway. “Don’t panic. There’s a salad bar out in the dining room. And the soup is right there.” I nodded at the self-serve pot.
“Hold up,” the serving-line lady said, her spoon halting above the meatballs. “You look just like that girl in those movies. The magic princess.”
“Mmm,” Lianne said noncommittally. Then she put her head down and wandered toward the soups.
When my plate was handed over, I thanked the server and turned to find Lianne waiting for me. She had a bowl of Mexican chicken soup and an anxious frown. “Come on,” I said.
In the dining room, I spotted Graham at a table with Rikker and Corey Callahan. There was only space for one, but I stopped for a second anyway. “Hey, guys!”
Corey slipped her tray to the edge of the table and then stood. “Hey! I’m on my way out,” she said. “Take this spot…” her voice trailed off when she realized who was standing next to me. “Oh, um, hi,” she said, recovering quickly. “I’m Corey.”
“Hi,” Lianne said softly.
I put my tray down. “Corey, Graham, Rikker, this is Lianne.”
“Hey,” the guys said. But Corey was still staring.
“Do you need help with that?” I asked, pointing at her tray. She walked with a cane, and once in a while she needed an assist if there were too many things to balance on the tray.
But she seemed to snap out of it. “Nope. No problem. And congratulations!” She gave me a big smile. “Graham was just telling me about…”
I gave my head a quick shake. “I wouldn’t know a thing about it.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Of course you wouldn’t. How ridiculous.” With another big smile, she hefted her tray in one hand and carefully moved toward the exit.
“That was…” Graham was grinning at me, too. He whispered the last word. “Spectacular.”
Rikker leaned in close to me. “Would it have killed you to warn a few people? I never go to football games. And I’m pissed that I missed it.”
Graham squeezed his wrist. “But I got excellent pictures. After dinner I’m going over to the newspaper to file my story. Front page, of course.”
My stomach gave a nervous flutter. “We are in such deep shit.” I yanked the other chair out for Lianne. “Sit down already. Wait — I promised you rabbit food. The salad bar is right there.”
Lianne set her tray down and walked toward the salad bar in the center of the room.
Then the weirdest thing happened. At the table nearest to the salad bar, I saw a couple of people nudge each other. The whole table went quiet. The same thing happened at the next table. Thirty seconds later, everyone who sat lingering over the last half hour of Sunday dinner was staring at Lianne.
“Wait,” Graham said, following my gaze. “She looks really familiar. Isn’t she that…?”
“Yeah,” I said. “She’s my neighbor on the fourth floor.”
He sat back in his chair. “She’s in Beaumont House? I’ve never seen her before.”
I reached across the table and gave his hand a warning stab with my fork. “Don’t stare.”
Lianne returned a minute later, sitting down with her salad. After a few beats, the ambient sound of conversation returned to the room.
“That was trippy,” I said.
She sighed, lifting her soup spoon. “I had this weird idea that I could just blend in here. It took me about an hour on move-in day to figure out that wasn’t true.”
“I think it is,” I insisted. “But you have to actually blend if you want to blend. If you came in here every night, it wouldn’t be interesting.”
“I have no idea how to blend,” Lianne admitted. “I’ve never gone to school before.”