Kamiko and Romeo still looked confused, their eyes getting big. I couldn’t blame them. They had no idea what was going on with Christos’ trial.

“Trust me,” I said. “And please do what I asked. Please. I’ll explain everything later. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Kamiko nodded.

“Okay,” Romeo said. “But what if those jerks say something different? We talked to them for awhile.”

Romeo was right.

“Uh,” I said, “I don’t know. We’ll play it off. Just don’t mention any names!”

I noticed then that the two cops were cuffing Crew Cut and Bloody Face while their friend sat on the grass cross legged, hunched over. When the cops finished cuffing the two guys, they made them sit on the grass about ten feet apart from each other, near one of the lamps that illuminated the walkway between Nyyhmy and Paiute.

“Are you the people who called in this fight?” the taller cop asked.

“I did,” Romeo said. He glanced at me nervously.

The other cop was calling in something on the radio attached to his shoulder. He was stocky and had a stumpy neck and broad shoulders. “Backup and EMTs are on the way,” he said to the tall cop.

The taller cop walked up to us while stocky cop stood sentry over the rugby players. I hoped their asses were getting soaked and cold from sitting on the damp lawn. Jerks.

“I need to see everyone’s Student IDs,” the tall cop said.

We all pulled them out and handed them to him. He shone his flashlight on each one and looked us each in the face in turn. He handed the IDs back to us. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked Romeo.

Romeo looked at me for approval. I didn’t want to look like I was some kind of criminal mastermind, so I shrugged my shoulders.

“Um,” Romeo said, “me and my friends were chatting over there,” he pointed, “and these guys came walking up and started harassing us.”

“Were any of you involved in the fight?” the cop asked.

“No,” we all said.

“So, who was fighting them?” he asked Romeo point blank.

“This…guy?” Romeo said sheepishly.

“Which guy?” the cop asked.

“The…stranger?” Romeo said uncertainly.

I repressed an eye roll.

“Me and my two friends,” I said, motioning to Kamiko and Romeo, “were talking for awhile, then this cute guy walked up to us and started chatting with us.”

“Which cute guy?” Tall cop asked. Then he pointed at Romeo and said, “Him?”

“No,” I said.

“Hey!” Romeo frowned, “I’m cute!”

“Shut up, Romeo,” Kamiko said.

The cop hooked a thumb behind him toward the rugby goons. “Do you mean one of those guys back there?”

“No,” I said. “He’s gone. The cute guy, I mean.”

“Why did he leave?” the cop asked.

“I guess because it was five on one?”

“What do you mean?”

“Me and my two friends here ran inside Paiute Hall when the guys all started fighting. The cute guy punched a bunch of them before he ran off. That’s why that guy over there has a bloody nose or whatever. Then the two other guys who are gone chased after cute guy.”

“Let me get this straight. Cute guy was fighting those three guys plus two more?”

“Yes,” I said.

“And you don’t know who this cute guy is?”

“No.”

The cop nodded. “So how did the fight start?”

Did I have to answer? I was afraid anything I said was going to sound so ridiculous I was going to get caught in a lie and get Christos in trouble.

“One of those guys called me a faggot,” Romeo said, “and I happen to be gay, which makes this a hate crime.”

“Did you do anything to provoke them?” the cop asked, eying Romeo’s steampunk attire.

I was starting to dislike this cop.

“No!” Romeo said. “Me and my friends were talking to each other and one of those guys went—“ Romeo mimicked the coughing and hand covering thing Crew Cut had done, “—Faggot!”

The cop nodded, “Sounds like a potential hate crime to me.”

Maybe this cop wasn’t so bad.

“But none of them hit you?” he asked Romeo.

“No,” Romeo said.

The cop glanced over at the rugby guys in the grass, then asked Romeo, “Do you know any of them personally? Are they aware of your sexual orientation?”

Romeo shook his head. “No, not that I know. I mean, I thought I looked pretty fabulous when I got dressed up to go out tonight. Does that count? Some people do tell me I’m too fashionable for my own good. Is a crime of fashion considered a hate crime? I think it should be,” Romeo said earnestly.

Kamiko glared at him.

“What?” Romeo frowned at her. “You said I looked like The Matrix.”

“Rebloated,” Kamiko jabbed.

The cop was obviously doing his best not to smile at their tomfoolery. He cleared his throat and said, “In any case, their use of such a derogatory term is unacceptable. Were either of you two ladies involved in the verbal altercation?” the cop asked me and Kamiko.

“The same guy who called Romeo a faggot called me a fag hag,” Kamiko blurted. “Then his friend, the guy with the beard, called Romeo a fag too.”

“Romeo?” the cop said, confused. “Who’s Romeo?”

“I am.” Romeo squinched his monocle into place and did a courtly bow while twirling his hand. “Romeo Fabiano, at your service.”

“That’s not what your Student ID said,” the cop cinched his brows.

“Romeo is my middle name,” he said nervously.

My jaw dropped. I turned to stare at Romeo.

A pained look weighed on Romeo’s features as he said, “My first name is Elmo. Elmo R. Fabiano.”

I was shocked. “Elmo?” I glanced at Kamiko and she nodded. I turned back to Romeo. “Are you serious? Is Elmo even Italian?”

“It is,” Romeo said proudly. “Look it up.”

I felt betrayed. It showed on my face.

“Hey,” Romeo said defensively, “Can you blame me? Elmo has so many negative connotations nowadays. And that voice of his?” Romeo shuddered. “Anyway, Elmo was my great-grandfather’s name. He was a member of the Resistenza Italiana during World War II and he fought against Mussolini and the Nazis. He was a total badass, and he was an Elmo long before that stupid puppet ruined it for the rest of us. Besides, Romeo is more romantic, don’t you think?”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Elmo’s not stupid,” Kamiko crooned. “He’s cute.”

Romeo rolled his eyes. “You’re only defending him because Elmo was your boyfriend until the sixth grade.”

“No he wasn’t!” she protested.

“Was too!”

“No, if you remember,” Kamiko frowned, “once I discovered Ash from Pokémon in the second grade, I forgot all about Elmo.”

"That’s right!” Romeo smiled. “Ash was your very first cartoon crushationship! You were always telling me how jealous you were of Pikachu for spending so much time with Ash!”

“I hated that bitch!” Kamiko grinned.

“Is Pikachu even a girl?” I mumbled, mostly to myself. “I thought he was supposed to be a boy.”

“Ahem,” the cop interrupted. “Anyway, miss, You mentioned a guy with a beard? Who ran off?”

“Yes,” Kamiko said, trying to calm herself.

“And none of you hit anyone, or were hit by those three men?” he asked.

“No,” I said, “we all ran inside Paiute and made sure the door was locked.”

“And who was this cute guy again?”

“We don’t know,” I said a bit too forcefully. “I’ve seen him around campus and in class, but I don’t really know him. I just say hi to him.”

“Yeah, Sam’s too shy to ask him his name,” Kamiko insisted. “I don’t know his name either,” she giggled.

“Which one of you is Sam?” the cop asked.

Waving my hand meekly, I said, “I am. Sam…I am. Green eggs and ham…I mean Samantha. My name is Samantha. Green eggs and hamantha.” I trailed off into a feeble giggle, then grimaced, rolled my eyes, arched both brows and kicked myself mentally for sounding like a schizophrenic Dr. Seussette. At this rate, I was pretty sure the cops were going to order up straight jackets for the three of us. As long as it took the heat off Christos, I was okay with that.