It’s obvious something’s up the second we sit down in Kala Ghoda Café. We do this awkward dance where first Adam moves toward Aubrey’s side of the table at the same time I do, and then he doubles back and lingers at the chair across from her before settling into the one across from me. Like it’s about something bigger than just which chair to plant his ass in. Kala Ghoda Café is little and mostly empty—it’s just across the street from Trishna’s, the seafood place famous for its garlic king crab, but somehow it escapes the crush. I thought of it because I knew it would be quiet—it’s where my mom and I used to go to read Vogue India and eat carrot cake and avoid my dad’s obsession with organized tours. Plus it’s beautiful, with its whitewashed walls and lofted ceilings and black-and-white photographs decorating the walls. But as we sit down I realize it’s too quiet, as in everyone’s-gonna-hear-everything-we-say quiet.
Adam’s good-looking, I notice right off. Not my type, but sexy enough in his athletic way. He’s not the I-moved-to-India-and-became-a-hippie type. He’s wearing a faded blue T-shirt with the state of Texas outlined in white, cargo shorts, and brown leather flip-flops. The boy might as well be wearing a sign that says American. I never met Adam during the year he and Charlie lived together. I heard about him, but what I’m seeing surprises me. Adam’s tan and muscular, with short blond hair. And he’s loud. Charlie was friends with everyone . . . but this guy’s so not Charlie, to the point that I’m wondering if Charlie kept me from meeting him on purpose. Aubrey’s met him before—a fun fact that makes me seethe.
“So you guys met, what, once?” My question’s as innocent as it gets, but Aubrey’s head jerks up and her knee bangs the table. I raise an eyebrow. “Jesus, Bree. Nervous much?” I’m needling her on purpose, and I can’t even figure out my motives. I like Aubrey. She’s the closest thing I have to a friend in all of this. I don’t know what’s prompting me to hurt her.
“Right,” she says fast, looking at the table. “In D.C. Around my birthday.”
“So that was . . .” I raise one eyebrow again, partly because I can do that and it’s awesome, partly because I’m still foggy on the timeline here.
“Your birthday’s in December, yeah?” Adam breaks in. “The third, right?” Aubrey’s head snaps up again, and she stares at him, then nods really fast.
“Yeah,” she says. “But we were in D.C. the weekend before, Thanksgiving break. The twenty-ninth. For Charlie’s birthday.”
“I know,” Adam says easily, and Aubrey blushes. I glance from him to her. What’s going on here? If I didn’t already know that Aubrey has the biggest stick up her butt ever, I’d think she and Adam have a thing. But that’s impossible.
“We only met the one time,” Aubrey clarifies.
“Right,” I say in my most patient voice. “Because we just covered that particular base.” Adam’s eyes dart from me to her and back again, looking confused.
“I know,” I tell him. “It’s totally weird. Charlie had two girlfriends at once. Take it all in while you can.”
“So what can I help you guys with?” he finally asks, shifting in his chair. I’ve made him uncomfortable. I’m good at that.
“As you may or may not know,” I tell him, “Charlie’s missing, presumed dead.”
“Of course I know.”
“Well then, of course we want to know anything you can tell us about Charlie in Bombay. Think hard. Maybe we can start with who he was around you.”
“Who he was?” Adam screws up his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“Charlie was lying to us,” Aubrey explains. “About more than the fact that there is an us. He lied about random things. Stupid things. The way he liked to dress, his favorite foods, books he read. We just want to get a sense of how his personality was with you.”
“And then we want to find him and castrate him,” I add. Adam raises an eyebrow and Aubrey blushes. Then Adam opens his mouth.