“So, have any of you managed to spot him yet?” Carmen asked, sliding into the last chair at the lunch table.
Liesel shoved a forkful of salad in her mouth to keep from sighing. She liked Michele, a French student she’d met through the International Students’ Union. She liked one of Michele’s two roommates, Sara, who was sitting next to her. But Carmen . . . .
“Spot who?” Sara asked.