“No,” Mr. Selfridge said apologetically, “I was in a meeting with the Provost of Adams College at the time. You know how Bill is about his meetings,” Mr Selfridge grinned.

The Dean smiled at him, “Yes I do.” Then his smile faded. “But you weren’t at the museum at the time of the incident?”

“Regrettably, no,” Mr. Selfridge said. “I was only present afterward, when Miss Kingston-Whitehouse returned for her credit card.”

The Dean nodded, as did the two administrators flanking him. The woman administrator shot me a quick glance. I gave her my best smile, trying to look innocent and pleasant.

She looked away. Had she already decided I was a guilty liar? I hoped not.

The Dean glanced at the papers in front of him and said, “Mr. Selfridge, am I correct in saying that you saw Miss Smith remove the stolen credit card from her wallet?”

“Yes.”

“But you never saw how it got there?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Mr. Selfridge,” the Dean finished. “You can sit down.”

Mr. Selfridge sat down and tossed a nervous smile in my direction.

I smiled back genuinely. He’d tried. I mean, what else could he say? He hadn’t seen how the card had gotten into my wallet. Heck, I’d been in the restroom when it had happened. For all I knew, Tiffany had hired ninjas to sneak into the museum and put it there.

It occurred to me at that moment that being in the restroom was possibly the worst alibi of all time. How was I supposed to prove it? Fish my old tampon out of the sewer somewhere and have it carbon dated to the time I’d used the ladies room? Yeah, right.

I had nothing.

“Miss Kingston-Whitehouse,” the Dean said, “Can we hear your version of events?”

Tiffany stood up to speak. She wore a sexy silver pencil skirt and a fitted lilac colored blouse that was only buttoned halfway up her cleavage. Her blonde hair wafted across her bosom. She looked ridiculously hot. I guess it was fitting. When the Queen shouted from her throne, “Off with her head!” she usually wore a fancy outfit.

The Dean, Mr. Selfridge, and the other male administrator looked hypnotized by Tiffany’s beauty. The woman administrator, rather than being catty, seemed similarly entranced.

Wasn’t it a fact that people tended to trust attractive people more than unattractive ones?

Even when it was a stranger?

If that was true, Tiffany was so beautiful in this moment that the administrators were going to believe every word she said. When I got up to speak, the Dean would already have a noose in his hands, and he’d be fingering the knots in preparation for my hanging. The guy next to him would be loading a rifle for my firing squad, and the woman administrator would be drawing poison into a syringe so she could give me a lethal injection right here on the spot.

Tiffany made a show of smoothing her skirt.

I had no idea what she was going to say. Maybe, just maybe, she might tell the truth. Naw. Who was I kidding? This was Tiffany Kingston-Whitehouse. All she did in life was get her way. Oh well. Even if I got kicked out of SDU, she couldn’t take Christos away from me, and she couldn’t stop me from studying art.

Whatever.

Tiffany nodded at the Dean, “Dean Livingston, I don’t know where to begin.”

I did. How about the truth?

“You see…” Tiffany said nervously.

She better be nervous. When I lied through my teeth, I usually was.

“Um…” Tiffany stammered, “this has all been a big misunderstanding. I, uh, well…I sort of put my credit card in Samantha’s wallet myself.”

I think I actually heard wet popping noises as everyone’s eyes jumped out of their eye sockets. That was of course ridiculous. Because I needed to get my ears checked. There was no way I’d heard Tiffany just say what I thought she’d said.

Tiffany looked very nervous while the administrators gaped at her.

“Come again?” the Dean said.

“I put my credit card in her wallet…” Tiffany said, “…as a, uh, prank. I don’t know why. It was a stupid thing to do. And I let her get in trouble.” Tiffany turned to me, a pained look on her face. “I’m really sorry, Samantha. I was a total jerk for doing that.” She turned to the administrators. “I know, I’m probably in big trouble now. That’s fine. I’ll accept whatever you guys decide to do.” She sat back down.

The Dean and the two administrators muttered back and forth. I couldn’t make out what they were saying because they sat so far away, but I could see them raising their eyebrows in disbelief.

I was as surprised as they were.

Wow, when Tiffany had stood up to speak two minutes ago, I had thought her hypnotizing beauty had been nothing but a devilish ruse covering her rotten core. I was wrong. It had been a reflection of her change of heart about me.

It turned out Tiffany Kingston-Whitehouse was full of surprises, not shit, like I’d feared.

Wow.

I learned something new today.

People changed.

Even hateful bitches.

There was another Wombat staff meeting at Toasted Roast that afternoon. Justin had emailed everyone two days ago and said he was going to announce the winner of the campus-wide vote off between my drawing and Tammy Lemons’ for the new Wombat mascot today. I couldn’t wait to find out the results.

Was it possible for lightning to strike twice in one day? I crossed my fingers.

I met up with Romeo in front of the Main Library before going to the Student Center.

“Wow, Sam!” Romeo squeed, “you look hot as hell!”

I still wore my sexy outfit from the tribunal hearing.

“Do you have a job interview?” he asked enthusiastically. “Or are you going to walk into some corporate boardroom and wow a bunch of executives who make decisions that shape the world?”

“Stop, Romeo,” I giggled. “I had to wear it for my tribunal hearing.”

“How’d that go?” he asked, suddenly serious.

“Tiffany admitted to putting her card in my wallet. She said it was just a prank.”

“What?” Romeo gaped. “You’re totally lying.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“Seriously hot,” Justin Tomlinson said suggestively, walking toward us from across the wide bridge that led back toward the Main Library. “You’re dressed to kill today, Samantha.” He looked me up and down.

“Yeah,” Romeo grinned, “she has an automatic with a silencer in her book bag and she’s going to use it later to assassinate some head of state after giving head to his state.”

“Romeo!” I chastised.

“What?” Romeo asked defensively. “No head of state would ever let you get close enough to assassinate him without seducing him first. Don’t you watch spy movies?”

I leaned toward Romeo and made a big show of staring into one of his ears.

“What are you doing, Sam?” he blurted, pulling away.

“I’m trying to see into that brain of yours so I can see all the crazy ideas floating around inside. It’s probably more fun than an amusement park in there,” I giggled. I leaned toward him again, peering intently.

Romeo swatted both hands at me repeatedly like a kitten at play. “Enough! They’re my ideas, and I charge admission!” He started laughing, still flailing with his hands.

I backed away before I got slapped, “I was wrong. It was just earwax.”

Justin crinkled his nose and laughed at us, looking super cute. “You guys are certifiably cray cray,” he laughed.

“Totally,” I said, smiling at Justin. I noticed his eyes twinkling at me. Yeah, he pretty much looked like he belonged on the cover of a teeny bopper magazine. But in a twenty year old sort of way that was swoony to all women under the age of forty.

Before I could look away, Justin turned to Romeo, his eyes still twinkling, and said, “Romeo, let me know what you charge for admission. I’d pay to see the crazy factory inside your head. Is there any way we can bottle it for The Wombat?”

“There is. I’ve been working with Willy Wonka, you know, the guy with the Chocolate Factory, to formulate a secret recipe. But we haven’t yet decided on whether to distill my genius into hard candies or chocolate bars.”