Love with strings detached

Chapter 34

It's been a couple of days since my outing with the boys and I can't deny that no matter how hard I tried not to think too much about the whole Daisy and me situation when I didn't have anything to do, I was contemplating on it.

"Pay attention," the pretty blonde says, sitting next to me.

She's looking down at the scattered papers all over my desk, biting her lip. Her blonde hair is a bit tousled as she has been running her hand through them a lot and the strap of her black cami top constantly falls off her shoulder, making her readjust it every few minutes.

After spending four hours studying on our second essay we decided to spend some time having a bit of fun, playing a mystery-solving case study game whilst sipping on white wine. We use the corkboard to pin some photos of the suspects and crime scene and the important evidence.

"So, you read his report and I'll read hers," I say, giving her the teachers paper as I pick up our victim's fellow student one.

"Look here, there's no shoe in this picture but in the next one, two seconds later there's a shoe," she says, pointing with her finger at the picture pin on the board.

"So someone dropped it and this guy was here so it couldn't be him," I say, looking at one of the suspects.

"Yeah, okay we're doing some progress it's good," she says.

"One suspect cleared four more to examine," I say.

"And look these two have each other as alibi saying that they were in the girl's bathroom together, so they're either lying and one of them is the killer or they're both innocent as well," she says, showing me the pictures of the two suspects and their reports where they say that.

"If we assume they're innocent then we have only three suspects left," she says, putting them aside for now.

"This girl is such a bitch, she seemed jealous of her but I don't think she harmed her," I say, reading over the girl's report.

"Yeah, I'm more suspicious of this guy here," she says, leaning to the side to pluck another suspect picture.

"Her counsellor saying that she told him she was suicidal all of a sudden seems very fishy to me. Like, I don't know it's just not sitting right with me," she tells me, puckering her lips.

"Yeah," I mumble, looking over at our remaining three suspects.

"Or this guy, the teacher, he seems infatuated with her," she says, passing me his report.

"We're missing something," I say, running my hand through my hair.

"Wait! Look here it says in the evidence report that she has clay on her shoe," she says, reading that paper again.

"Yeah, wasn't she in art class?" I ask, looking at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah, but she was doing painting in there, how would she get clay on her shoe?" She wonders.

"The shoe got dropped afterwards so, that might mean that the suspect had clay on their hands," I say, looking at our board again.

"Omg, let's look at their reports, let's see if someone said they were in art class," she says, trying to find the reports in this mountain of papers.

"Omg, I found it!" She says suddenly.

"This here, she was doing painting in the art class and it says in this report that the counsellor was in clay class, she got the clay on her shoe from him," she says, holding the paper up for me to read it as well.

"Oh, okay," I say.

"Check it let's see if we indeed solve it," she says, giving me my phone that was closer to her.