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gaze.
    â€œWell, what was his facial expression when youmentioned Brittany’s name?” he was saying in a half whisper.
    â€œIt’s hard to describe,” Virginia said over the phone. “It was like . . . when a dog hears a sound it recognizes? Like its food being opened?”
    â€œHuh . . . ,” Benny said, not quite sure what to make of that. “Not, like, guilty or anything?”
    â€œNo, he didn’t look guilty. Mostly he looked incredibly spaced out. I think he was on drugs.”
    Benny could hear the children’s choir singing, which meant they were about to start the Torah service.
    â€œI have to go,” Benny said. “Keep an eye on Gottfried. If he leaves the Boarders, follow him.”
    â€œOkay,” Virginia said. “Anything else I should do?”
    â€œGet ahead on your homework. It could be a big week, so school can’t be in the way.”
    â€œOkay. I have a paper due Thursday, but I’ll do it now.”
    It was always surprising how obedient Virginia could be. She never argued with him or tried to be in charge. It was strange for someone so pushy and assertive.
    â€œShould we go to that vigil tomorrow?” she asked.
    â€œWhat vigil?”
    â€œOh, there’s a thing at the fountain, to light candles and stuff. Everyone’s going.”
    Everyone’s going. Benny usually never heard about these sorts of things until they were already over and “everyone’s going” had become “everyone was there.”
    â€œYeah, definitely,” he said. “We should definitely be there.”
    The Boarders, 2:30 p.m.
    She had lost him almost immediately. Surveilling someone was pretty much impossible if you didn’t have a car. Virginia reread her pathetically brief report, trying to come up with ways to pad it and make it look more impressive.
    Subject was in his room for an hour and a half, sleeping probably. At 1:22 someone showed up and started throwing rocks at his window to wake him up. It was the delivery guy from Domino’s. Everyone at the Boarders calls him Corn Flakes because he has cornrows and really bad dandruff. He tries to hang with us all the time, but pretty much only Gottfried will talk to him. They drive to the gas station sometimes to buy cigarettes. That’s probably where they went, but I couldn’t figure out how to follow them.
    There was a ton more she could say about Corn Flakes—how he was obsessed with Lindsay Bean and always got her free toppings, how he tried to take her to prom and Lindsay was so embarrassed she pretty muchdied, and how he supposedly went to Georgia State but was more likely just a townie loser. But was all that intel or just gossip? It was hard to know the difference.
    Post siesta, subject looked refreshed and revived. He didn’t seem sick anymore. He’d changed his pants.
    Virginia frowned, erased the part about changing his pants, then wrote it back in again. She didn’t know what was important to report. Maybe in some weird universe Gottfried’s pants could unlock the Mystery of the Suicidal Mascot.
    Gottfried and Corn Flakes had this elaborate high five they gave each other, which struck me as interesting because I didn’t think they hung out all that much. But maybe it’s just one of those high fives that all dudes preternaturally know. I will investigate this and report back.
    She folded up the paper and went to the common-room computer to google “guy high fives.” The results were pretty useless, like guys high-fiving their dogs or accidentally smacking each other in the faces. She came up with a great plan to ascertain whether the high five was a standard dude one or unique to Gottfried and Corn Flakes: She’dwait for Gottfried to come back in the hope that they would do the high five again, but this time she’d be waiting with the camera. She’d film the high five, study it, and practice