Jane's a teenage weirdo. She's awkward, plain, anxious, and above it all, a hacking prodigy.
Ryder's the quintessential high school hero, or so it seems. Dark secrets that threaten their lives are uncovered when Jane decides to snoop into Ryder's...
Later in the day, after the nurse released Victoria, and after Jane had gone off to attend whatever classes were left in her schedule, Ryder found himself once more in the dumpster alley.
Though the dumpsters had long remained empty, the smell of old garbage still lingered somewhat. Ryder wrinkled his nose. He didn't like this alley, but it was one of the few places he could go without someone trying to talk to him. Without someone trying desperately to win his approval, or sell him something, or pretend to be his friend.
No Beatrice either, he thought with relief.
He patted his jacket pockets, searching for his cell-phone. It was a cracked, heavy brick of a phone. Even with all the money his family possessed, he still felt the need to hang on to it.
Call it misplaced sentimentality or being too frugal, but he held very little desire for every shiny new thing. Don't replace it if it isn't broken.
A few finger-taps and a swipe and his father's personal contact number appeared on the screen. His stern face stared back at Ryder, a thin crack bisecting it in a dramatic fashion.
Ryder smoothed his hair back, mentally preparing himself. The dial tone was a low drone as their call connected.
Only thirty seconds of waiting, Ryder noted. His father must have a light schedule today. Or his secretary had left a time-slot for him. Generous.
"Ryder," his father said, more of a statement rather than a question.
"Yeah," Ryder replied. "It's done. She said yes."
The wind picked up, wafting the stench of garbage towards Ryder. He could see Beatrice's spent cigarette on the floor from the day before.
There was silence. He checked his phone to make sure the call hadn't been dropped. His father hadn't said anything.
"Was there anything else?" Jackson senior asked. Ryder could almost see him glancing at his watch.
"This doesn't feel right, dad. She's just some girl," Ryder said.
More silence on the other end of the call.
"I didn't raise you to feel, Ryder." His father said. "I raised you to do."
His voice held a hard edge that, once upon a time, would have warned of an impending beating. Even now, almost a man, Ryder could feel himself cringing away. Just like he had as a young boy.
A beep marked the abrupt end of the call. Ryder stood there, surrounded by dumpsters and cigarette butts, and fought the urge to hit something. He placed the cracked phone back in his pocket, sighing the frustration away.
The emergency door opened with a creak as Ryder returned to school, heart heavy with guilt. Jane Mackenzie had no idea what she had stumbled upon.
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