“Yeah.” Mateo shook his head and turned to stare at the ceiling. “You always said she didn’t like Delilah, right?”

Brandon didn’t reply.

“That’s a big risk to take for someone you don’t even like,” Mateo went on.

Brandon sighed. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but she’s my best friend, all right?”

“Okay, okay,” Mateo said. “But we should tell Ross, or the dean. Someone should know. Someone who can actually do something about it.”

“There’s nothing to do about it. You told me what that cop said.”

“Yeah, but if Maria did something suspicious, someone should—”

Brandon sat up. “You think she pushed Delilah out a window?”

Mateo rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just—I wish she’d told the cops about the pills.”

“Maybe she would if I asked her to,” Brandon said slowly. It made sense. Maria was probably afraid of getting in trouble over the drugs, but if Brandon talked some sense into her, Maria would do the right thing.

Or at least they could get it all out in the open. Maria could explain, and it would all make sense. Then he’d know—and Mateo would know—that they didn’t have anything to worry about.

If she couldn’t explain it, then, well, maybe he did need to worry.

“I’ll ask her,” Brandon decided. “Tomorrow.”

Mateo sat up too. “For real?”

“For real.”

Mateo grinned at him. Brandon grinned back. Maybe this really would be that easy.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Brandon asked. Mateo’s work-study job was in the college counselors’ office.

“Yeah,” Mateo said. “Four to six. Then I’ve got to write this thing for the Lambda Literary contest and my French essay for my thesis advisor. I have to start my Kingsley application too. Tomorrow’s kind of going to suck.”

Brandon raised his eyebrows. “You’re applying? For the Kingsley Prize?”

“Yeah. I decided to put my name in. The deadline’s not until the end of the week. What the hell, right? If Delilah’s not getting it, it’s anybody’s game.”

Brandon’s head swam. “How do you know Delilah’s not getting it?”

“I’m guessing if they think she’s a druggie who OD’d on campus, they won’t pick her. Hey! You should put your name in too. It would be nice if the scholarship went to somebody who could actually use a scholarship.”

“You don’t need to win,” Brandon said. “You’re getting an athletic scholarship to WVU already.”

Mateo grinned. “I think I’d rather go to UVA, though. They have a great architecture program.”

Brandon pictured Mateo working in an architect office, wearing an awesome suit and drawing up blueprints for some fancy skyscraper. He’d be great at it. Mateo was great at everything he tried.