Chapter 13
Violet
The hostess led Kane and me through the chaos of Revs—past tables of frat guys in Greek letters screaming at the football game on the oversized TV above the bar, past waitresses balancing trays of loaded nachos and buffalo wings—to a booth tucked against the side window.
“Is this okay?” Kane asked as we slid into opposite sides of the booth, his voice a little too loud to compensate for the noise before he seemed to realize how much calmer it was in our corner.
He cleared his throat, adjusting to a normal volume.
“I tried to request somewhere we could actually hear each other.”
“It's perfect, thanks,” I said, setting my purse on the scarred wooden table. The window beside us looked out onto the darkening street, streetlights just beginning to flicker on. “You said you and Cal used to come here a lot, right?”
His gaze flicked up to mine from the menu he’d been looking at. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“You said you came here with my sister a lot, didn’t you?”
“Oh, right, yeah. At least once a week.” He smiled faintly. “It’s loud here, but the food and drinks are great.”
“What was her usual order?” I asked, scanning the menu.
“She didn’t have one. She’d always try something different each time,” he replied.
“Oh.” My brows shot up. “She wasn’t like that when we were kids at all. Everywhere we went: nachos with extra sour cream. Even at restaurants that didn’t have nachos on the menu.”
Kane laughed. “Thank god she grew out of that phase, eh? It would’ve been so awkward.”
“Yeah, it was,” I said, laughing softly too. It felt good to reminisce rather than just ruminate over Calista’s death. “Anyway… if you came here at least once a week, you must’ve been pretty close, huh?”
“Sorry. One sec.” Kane was craning his neck now, one hand waving in the air. “There’s a server right over there, so I’m going to grab a beer. Do you want a drink too?”
I hadn't planned on drinking, because I wanted to stay sharp and focus on getting information, but something made me hesitate. Maybe Kane was nervous. Maybe he knew something about Roman, or the Dionysus Club, and needed a good bit of liquid courage before he could open up about it.
“Sure, I’ll have a vodka cranberry,” I said.
A server in a black Revs t-shirt appeared at our table, notepad ready. “Hey! What can I get you guys?”
Kane smiled at her. “I’ll have a Stella, and my friend will have a vodka cranberry.”
“Anything to eat?”
“We might need a bit more time to look at the menu,” he said before glancing at me. “Unless you’ve already picked something?”
“I’d love to try the Caesar salad,” I said.
“Cool. In that case, I’ll do the beef burger with a double side of fries.”
After the server had jotted down our order and walked away, I leaned forward and tried again. “So were you and Cal close?”
Kane hesitated, a distant look appearing in his eyes. “We were pretty close,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “But I wouldn’t say we were best friends. She had, like… a ‘main’ friend group with her actual best friend.”
“Cherry,” I said nodding.
“Right, yeah. But anyway, I think Calista liked having a friend from a different group to talk to sometimes. You know, if there was any drama in the main group, or whatever. Or if she just wanted to hear an opinion that wasn’t coming from the echo chamber.”
“Makes sense,” I said, nodding again. Calista had always been a social butterfly, capable of maintaining many friendships over multiple groups. “Do you remember when you first met her?”
Before he could respond, another server appeared with our drinks. Kane smiled politely at her and took a long sip of his beer before looking back at me. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I was wondering where you met Cal.”
“Ah.” He frowned slightly, head tilting.
“Must’ve been freshman year, at a party,” he said.
“And by the way, speaking of freshmen, you don't look young enough to be one.” He suddenly sat up straighter, lifting a palm. “I mean... shit, I'm not saying you look old. It’s just that you’re new here, and—”
I laughed and cut him off. “It's okay, I get what you mean, and you're right. I'm a junior. I transferred here from Ravenswood.”
“Ah, cool. What are you studying?”
“Business. I’ve always wanted to build something of my own one day,” I said. I waved a hand. “But enough about me, I guess. We're not here to discuss that.”
“It's all good,” Kane said, grinning. “We've got the whole night to chat. Unless you have to be in bed by eight.”
I nodded, sucking in a deep breath. He was right. We had plenty of time. I didn’t need to hit him with a barrage of questions about my sister right off the bat. I could afford to let the conversation breathe a little, give the beer a chance to loosen his lips.
We spent the next several minutes chatting about surface-level stuff—our classes, favorite movies, a local sports team mascot that recently tripped and faceplanted on live TV. After our food finally arrived, along with Kane’s second beer, I decided to steer the conversation back into deeper waters.
“So, I was just wondering something,” I said. “How come I never saw you on Cal’s phone?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked, reaching for his new beer. As he did so, he accidentally knocked the edge of the glass, sending foam flying all over the table, along with a few splashes of beer. “Shit,” he muttered, grabbing a napkin to mop up the mess.
“I mean Cal’s texts,” I said, grabbing a napkin so I could help with the spill. “I had a look at them after she died, and I don’t think I ever saw your name.”
“Oh, right, yeah. I’m not a big texter,” Kane replied. “I hate calls, too. I’m more of an in-person conversationalist, y’know? And Cal and I had a lot of the same classes, so we’d usually link up afterwards and go somewhere. So we hung out a lot, but we barely ever texted.”
“Ah, okay.” I nodded slowly. “What kind of stuff did you guys talk about when you hung out?”
“Everything, really. Class stuff, drama with other friends, personal stuff.”
“Personal stuff?” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “Does that mean she talked about relationships with you?”
Kane’s eyes lifted to something over my shoulder, and his expression shifted to a grimace. “Oh, shit. Just try to ignore these guys, okay?” he muttered.
I turned to see three guys in matching Sigma Chi shirts weaving through the tables toward us, beers in hand and grins plastered across their flushed faces.
“Sutherland!” the tallest one bellowed, clapping Kane on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince. “Didn't know you were gonna be here tonight, bro!”
Kane gave him a tight smile. “Yeah, just grabbing a bite to eat.”
The tall guy's eyes swiveled to me, his grin widening. “And who's this? You didn't tell us you had a date tonight.”
“She's way too hot for you, dude,” another one added, leaning against the booth.
Heat crept up my neck. “Oh, we’re not—”
The tall one clapped me on the shoulder, cutting me off. “Listen, if Sutherland ever pisses you off, you can just come to me instead. I love myself a sexy brunette.”
“Guys, come on!” Kane said, reaching over to swat the guy’s arm off me. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
The tall guy lifted his palms in a conciliatory gesture. “All right, all right, I’m sorry! I was just kidding around,” he said. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. See you back at the house later, man.”
With that, the frat guys stumbled away, still laughing, back toward the cluster of tables near the TV.
An awkward silence settled over our booth, and Kane rubbed the back of his neck, not quite meeting my eyes. “Sorry about that,” he muttered. “Those guys are usually fine, but when they drink too much—”
“I get it. I know the type. Ravenswood was full of them.”
“I know I should’ve told them that we’re not here on a date, but it’s kinda awkward to tell them the truth, you know?”
“To say that we’re actually here to talk about my dead sister?” I said, brows rising. “Don’t worry, I understand. I was just going to say we were friends, or something like that.”
“Well, again, I’m sorry,” Kane said. He hesitated, slowly shaking his head. “I feel like we keep getting interrupted tonight. I can’t even remember what we were talking about now.”
He was right. This conversation had been stop-start from the moment we arrived, with interruptions from the server, his beer spill, and the frat brigade.
“You were saying Cal told you personal stuff, so I wanted to know if she ever talked to you about relationships,” I said, tilting my head.
“Oh, right. She was always single, as long as I knew her,” Kane replied. “I mean, she’d have the occasional hookup here and there, at parties or whatever, but she never really got into anything serious.”
I raised my brows. “Are you sure?”
“Well… there could’ve been something she didn’t tell me about, I guess,” he said, scratching his chin. “But she always came across as a pretty free spirit.”
I cast my mind back to what Cherry and the others had told me about the change that came over Calista when she started dating Roman in secret. They’d said it started near the end of their sophomore year, which was around eight months before Calista’s death.
“So, what about the last six to eight months before she… before it happened?” I asked. “You didn’t notice any changes? Like she was maybe hiding a secret relationship from you?”
Kane slowly shook his head. “Nothing noticeable to me,” he said, fingers drumming on the table. “Same stuff as ever, really. The occasional party hookup, and that was it.”
“What about in the last few weeks before she died?” I asked. “Sorry if this all sounds really intense, by the way. I'm just trying to piece together her last movements.”
“It’s fine, I totally get it,” he said. He hesitated, rubbing his jaw. “The last couple of weeks before the accident happened… nothing really stands out. There was a guy she kissed at a party, but nothing really came of it. And that’s pretty much it. No romantic relationships to speak of.”