What he’s saying, it isn’t a lie. It’s a game, one with stakes that are much less dire than the one I’m engaged in with Justin and Parrish. But a game, nonetheless.
“I bet she can run a six-minute mile and spends her weekends working out.” I try to smile, but the expression falls flat. I committed arson today; I destroyed Danyella’s dreams. Tears threaten, but I push them back. I can’t cry right now; I have work to do.
“Damn straight,” Chasm replies, but he isn’t even trying to smile. He’s watching me so carefully, like he’s afraid that I might break. He needn’t worry; I’m made of stronger stuff than he might think. “Don’t cry, Little Sister,” he murmurs after a moment, taking a step toward me. He adds something in Korean, but I obviously don’t understand. I wish I did. Oh, how I wish.
I cover my hand with the robe’s sleeve and rub away even the possibility of tears.
“Shall we get started?” I ask, pulling the phone from my pocket and doing my best to change the subject. It’d be nice to have my laptop; that’d make things much easier. But there’s no way in hell that Tess is going to give it back to me now. This’ll have to do.
“Started …” Chasm trails off and then nods, moving into Parrish’s room to grab his bag. When he comes back, I see that he’s got his own laptop in hand. Thank god for small miracles. “Just tell me what you want me to do; I’m yours.” He pauses, and we both take a moment to process the unintended double entendre. “Put me to work.”
“How are your hacking skills?” I query with a raised brow. I’m not technology stupid or anything, but my forte is video games, not real-life detective work.
“Ahh, I’m alright,” he responds with a loose shrug of his shoulders. We settle down together with our backs against the headboard, bare legs precariously close to touching. I decide to give Chas the phone to view the recorded video before I delete it.
I wish I could describe the expression on his face when he sees Parrish for the first time. As much as I care about Parrish, Chasm cares just as much, if not more.
“Do you mind if I play with this a while before you delete it?” he asks, and I nod.
We end up sitting like that for the rest of the night, until both of our alarms go off for school, but it only took me a couple of hours to see that ‘I’m alright’ in Chasm’s language clearly means ‘I’m damn good at what I do’.
It makes me wonder if he really does know the girls in the computer science club … or if that was just cover for ‘I am the computer science club’.
We’re both bleary eyed and exhausted as we crawl out of bed to grab our uniforms, but I don’t miss the fact that one of the sunflowers has wilted briefly overnight. A single petal drifts to the floor as I watch, and chills creep up and down my spine. That’s not a good omen, not a good omen at all.
“School’s cancelled today,” Tess snaps as soon as we come downstairs. She’s in the kitchen with the rest of the family, nursing a flat white and looking like she got as much sleep last night as Chasm and I did. Once again, Maxx is there, sitting at the table and working on a plate of eggs.
The way he watches me when I move into the room scares the crap out of me. He hasn’t forgotten about our conversation yesterday; he’s just been busy. Yeah, well, so have I. I was busy setting fire to my best friend’s dreams and trying to figure out where my stepbrother/boyfriend has disappeared to.
“It’s cancelled?” Ben queries, looking up from his own food. His face is just as red from crying as anyone else’s.
“Not yours, buddy,” Paul says, reaching out to give his son’s shoulder a squeeze. It’s literally the first time I’ve ever seen him show physical affection to his children. Guess losing his oldest knocked some sense into Dr. P. “Just the high school. There was a fire in the theater.”
“It was purposely set on fire,” Kimber corrects, cutting her fried eggs into pieces and playing with the runny yolk. I just freeze where I am, my book bag slung over one shoulder, my feet rooted to the floor. Luckily, Chasm is a far better actor than I am, sauntering into the room like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Any news?” he asks, and even though we both know more than the rest of the family combined, he can’t seem to hide the small spark of hope in his words.
“Nothing,” Tess chokes out, her hands shaking around her mug. She lifts her gaze up to mine, and I feel that sick, sad feeling inside of me twist into a dark shadow that overwhelms every part of me, drowning me in pain. How can I keep this up? How can I keep lying? “You really haven’t heard from him?”
“If I knew where he was, I’d tell you,” I whisper back, sliding my book bag off my shoulder and tossing it beside one of the stools at the breakfast bar. I’m in desperate need of sleep and so is Chasm, but I’d rather spend our day searching for Parrish.
Last night was a total wash, but Chas had the brilliant idea of looking up wine aficionados in the area. We figured if we could find someone who liked to, say, collect expensive vintages or bid on rare bottles at charity auctions, maybe we could get a lead. Other than his own father, there were about six other locals in Medina who fit the description.
Then again, that’s assuming Parrish is even in the Seattle metro area. For all we know, he could be ten states away by now. But it’s a start and that’s more than we had yesterday. Also, Chasm was able to take the audio from the call and run it through voice matching software. Don’t ask me how: I’m not the genius valedictorian hacker who likes to play dumb with everyone around him.
We didn’t get any matches unfortunately, but that isn’t to say that we couldn’t. Or that we couldn’t track the phone number if we had the proper resources. Obviously, law enforcement could do all of this and more, but I get the feeling that Justin is a little more cautious than that. If he truly is the Seattle Slayer, then he’s been fooling not only local law enforcement but also the FBI for months.
Tess eventually disappears, driving off in her Mercedes while Paul readies the kids for school.
“Whitehall is closed until Monday, but your mom wants you to stay put,” he tells me before he leaves, and I nod, taking a bite of my own eggs, the ones that Chasm cooked for me because he’s awesome like that. “Kwang-seon, your dad wants you home before lunch.”
Chas balks at that, but there’s no point in arguing with Paul; he has no control over what Chasm’s father does.
“God-fucking-damn it,” Chasm snarls, throwing his fork into the sink so hard that it bounces back out and lands on the floor. Delphine, who’s in the process of cleaning the kitchen, heaves a tired sigh and picks it up. I’d apologize to her if I had the energy for that sort of thing.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, even as he rakes his fingers through his ebon-black hair and curses under his breath. “We can video chat or something.”
“If my dad wants me home, then it’s because he’s planning on riding my ass into the ground. He won’t let me …” Chasm lets his gaze slide over to Maxx. He’s finished his food, leaning back in his chair with his orange juice cupped between his hands. Kimber’s sitting beside him, glaring at me for having the audacity to talk about video chatting with her crush. “Anyway, he’ll make sure I’m studying in his office with him all night. I’ll be trapped, Dakota.”