Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
As I watch, he goes through a series of menus and error codes to manhandle the printer into believing it has sufficient paper to print.
He nods, pleased with himself. “That should work. For now, at least.”
“Thanks.” I go back to my computer to start the print job again. Sure enough, the printer starts humming happily and spitting out pages.
The kid follows me, lingering over my shoulder. He looks younger than me, maybe a sophomore or junior. “You’ve never been in here before.”
“No.”
“I’m Lucas.” Then he pauses in wait, and I stifle a sigh and force myself to introduce myself.
What the hell is up with everyone at Sandover being so intrusively friendly? I thought they were all supposed to be delinquents. “RJ,” I say.
Lucas notices my laptop sticking out of my bag and his expression lights up. “Did you build that yourself?”
“Huh? Oh. It’s a custom case I had this guy build me in exchange for hacking his boyfriend’s phone to find out who he was cheating on him with.”
“Seriously? That’s cool.”
“You into this stuff?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not like an expert or anything, but I dabble. Read a lot, mostly. My dad would bury me in the backyard if I actually got caught, you know?”
Despite my initial reluctance, we end up chatting for a while. Turns out he’s a junior, and he’s been obsessed with computers and writing code since he was twelve. Lucas is modest, but he knows his stuff, not like a lot of posers you find online trying to pass themselves off as some second coming of The Condor. It’s almost always some twelve-year-old who’d just spent the weekend watching Hackers.
“There you are,” Fenn announces, walking into the lab. “Dinner, dude. Let’s go.”
“Hey, Fenn.” Lucas nods at him while I grab our papers from the printer.
“Here, shithead.” I toss Fenn his essay. “Enjoy your A.”
“And you’re sure this’ll work?”
“If you did what I told you and made it sound more like you wrote it, then yeah. No sweat.”
“If what’ll work?” Lucas asks, peering at the pages.
“Nothing.” Fenn rolls up the essay. “Mind your business.”
“I’m done here anyway.” I throw my essay and laptop in my backpack.
“Good. Come eat with us. You can’t spend every night eating in the dorm. It’s creepy.” Fenn glances at Lucas. “Let’s go. You can come too. We can try to figure out where the fuck your dad stashed your brother.”
Lucas’s face grows pained. “Dad won’t budge, man. He says we’re ‘no contact’—I guess that’s some kind of therapy term? We’re no contact until Gabe proves, and I quote, that he’s ready to be a respectable member of our family. Even Mom won’t tell me where they sent him.”
I follow the exchange, only half lost. I know from snooping through Fenn’s digital life that Gabe is Gabe Ciprian, Fenn’s best bro since grade school. I just hadn’t realized the guy’s father was in the mafia or some shit.
“Anyway, I gotta go.” Lucas shrugs. “I’m going over to Casey’s house for dinner. See you guys later.”
Fenn’s expression falls and his mouth flattens as he watches Lucas leave.
Lifting a brow, I follow him to the door. “What’s up?”
“Huh?” He snaps out of his dead-eyed stare.
“You look like you’re about to challenge a junior to a duel at noon.”
“No one’s ever allowed at their house,” he says, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “Except for Silas, who’s close with Sloane, and then this fucking kid for some reason.”
“So?”
“So Casey’s dad barely tolerates us going for a walk and only as long as the sun’s up. We have to stay on the marked trails where the school has cameras.”
“Harsh.”
“It’s medieval. The dude is ridiculous.”
I don’t have any useful advice for him, unless he wants some help disabling the security cameras. Then I realize, this could be an in for me. I know from hacking Fenn’s phone that he’s tight with Casey. He doesn’t talk about her much to me, but maybe there’s an angle here I might be able to exploit to get closer to Sloane.
“So what’s with their dad?” I ask while we stop by our room to change out of our uniforms. “Why’s he biblically strict with them? Is it just the headmaster job following him home or something more?”
Fenn goes silent for a long moment. His expression is unreadable, as if he’s deciding whether to answer me. He sits on the edge of his bed, bending over to put on his shoes, and doesn’t look at me when he finally speaks.
“Tresscott was always protective of them—like, he’d threaten to castrate anyone who came within twenty feet of the headmaster cottage. But it was never to this level.”
“So what happened to get it to this level?”
“Prom,” Fenn says flatly.
I grin. “We have prom at an all-boys school?”
“No, it’s at Ballard Academy. Sandover guys can buy tickets to any social event at Ballard, so a bunch of us went to the junior prom this past spring. Sloane brought Casey, but then kind of lost track of her during the night.” He lets out a long, weary sigh. “Far as we know, someone drugged Casey’s drink. She disappeared at some point and wound up driving her car into the lake out behind the abandoned boat house. Nearly drowned.”