by Kai Juniper
"Okay, bye!" I call up Briggs.
"Yeah," he says, sounding groggy. His voice is still hoarse like it was last night. I still can't imagine him singing in the shower, especially loud enough to lose his voice.
"Briggs, it's Ella. I talked to Calvin."
"And?" He coughs.
"Are you sick?"
"Hungover. Rough night."
"You got drunk at the party?"
"Before the party. During the party. After the party."
"It's Sunday night and you're still hung over?"
"Trust me, if you drank that much, you'd be hungover for a week. I've built up a tolerance. I'll be better by tomorrow. So what'd the geek say?"
"He's not a geek, and he was very helpful. He said to just block the number so we won't keep getting the messages."
"If we do that, the guy will go to the cops. He wants us to play his game. If we stop playing, he goes to the police."
"But it has to eventually end. We can't do this forever."
"It'll end when we figure out a way to get out of this. We don't need to stop the messages. We need to find out who's sending them."
"Calvin said it has to be coming from a company. Those short codes aren't for personal use. They're for marketing."
"Then it has to be someone working at a company, or someone who has access to their short code. Did you ask Calvin how to find that out?"
"He said it'd be hard if it's from a company, but I could have him try. You'll need to send me the number. I'll meet him in the computer lab tomorrow and see what he can find out."
"Yeah, okay. Is that it?"
"I was going to ask for your help on the assignment, but never mind."
"I can't even sit up right now, so I don't think you want me working on it."
"You didn't say anything when you were drunk, did you?"
"I don't think so, but who the fuck knows?"
"Briggs, what if you told someone?" I say, annoyed he's not concerned about this.
"Everyone there was wasted. Whatever I said, they wouldn't remember."
"I hope you're right."
Monday at school, I can barely keep my eyes open. I was up past midnight finishing the assignment. I fell asleep before I could study for the test I had this morning. I think I did okay on it, but I had to guess on a few of the questions.
At lunch, I head straight to the computer lab. When I walk in, everyone stares at me, like I shouldn't be there. Calvin and Oliver are sitting along the back wall, facing a series of monitors. Three other guys are next to them. I've seen them around school, but I don't know their names. Two girls are at a long table in the middle of the room, working on their laptops. They're not in my grade. I think they're juniors.
I walk over to Calvin. "I have the number."
He glances at the other people in the room, giving them a nod, like he's telling them it's okay that I'm here. Anyone can use the computer lab, but the people here seemed to have claimed it as their own. I get the feeling they don't like outsiders coming in. This is their safe place, where they're not bullied and picked on like they are in the rest of the school.
"Let me see it," Calvin says, reaching for my phone.
"I wrote it down." I pull a piece of paper from my pocket and hand it to Calvin.
He points to Oliver. "You mind if he helps? He's better with stuff like this than I am. He's doing an independent study on cybersecurity."
"Sure. The more help, the better. I really want to know where it's from."
Calvin sets the piece of paper between him and Oliver, then they both type really fast into their computers.
Two of the other guys get up and stand behind Calvin. One of the guys is tall and skinny, and the other is small—shorter than me—with glasses and long black hair pulled into a ponytail.
"What are you guys doing?" the short one asks. I think his name is Lucas, but I could be wrong.
"Finding the owner of a short code," Calvin says.
"Need some help?" the tall guy asks, sounding excited at the idea.
"I think we're good," Oliver says, still typing fast.
"I'm Ella," I say, turning to the two guys. "I don't think we've met."
They look shocked that I'm talking to them.
"You're Lucas?" I say to the short one, hoping the name is right.
"Yeah." He smiles. "And that's Ian." He points to the skinny guy.
"Are you guys working on a project?"
They look at each other and laugh a little.
"Why is that funny?" I ask.
"We have like five or six projects going at once," Lucas says. "Sometimes more."
"What kind of projects?"
"All kinds," Ian says. "Depends on who hired us."
"We contract with companies in the area," Lucas says.
"Really? I didn't know you did that."
"We all do," Ian says, looking at the other people in the room. "Everyone here is working on at least five different projects."
"I had no idea," I say.
"I think I got it," Oliver says.
"Damn!" Calvin throws his hands up. "You always find stuff faster than me."
Oliver smirks. "What can I say? I'm good."
I can't believe these are the same guys I see in school every day. In here they're confident, they look you in the eye, they aren't all hunched over. Then they leave this room and become timid and shy, like they're trying to hide from the world.
"Who is it?" I ask Oliver. "Do you have a name?"
"No. It's an offshore company. Looks like it's based in Singapore."
"Singapore? That doesn't make sense."
Calvin turns to me. "Scammers usually operate outside the country that's the target of the scam. Makes them less likely to be caught and charged with anything."
"But they—" I'm not sure I can tell him this, but I need to know the answer. "They know my friend's name. How would they know his name if they're in Singapore?"
"They could go online and look it up."
"Okay, but they're acting like they know him. Like they've seen him around town."
All four guys stare at me, waiting for me to explain.
"They're playing some kind of prank on him," I say. "And from the messages he's received, the person is definitely someone he either knows or someone who's watching him."
"Why would they be watching him?" Calvin asks.
"I don't know. Probably to freak him out."
"So he's worried about this person? Does he think they're dangerous? Because if so, he should go to the cops."
"He's not worried. He just wants to find out who keeps sending him texts."
"Who's the guy getting the texts?" Lucas asks. "Is it your boyfriend?"
"No. I don't have a boyfriend. He's just a friend. A neighbor. He lives on my street."
"And he asked you to help him find a scammer?" Oliver asks, sounding skeptical.
"We're close with the neighbors," I hurry to say.
They know I'm lying. My neighbors are all billionaires with mansions surrounded by tall shrubs and iron gates. I never even see them, so I definitely don't talk to them, except for Briggs, but that's a recent thing.
"Anything else you can tell me?" I ask Oliver.
"That's all I found. Anyone at the company could technically send a message using that short code, so finding the person isn't going to be easy. If you think it's someone in town, they might have employees here. A lot of students at the universities around here do projects for foreign companies, or they intern for them."
That's a possibility. I could see the mysterious person being a college student. Maybe they were at a party with Briggs, Finn, and Parker, and that's how they know them. Maybe it's a girl one of the guys had sex with and never talked to again, and now she's using this to get back at him.
"Thanks for doing this," I say, taking the piece of paper back.
"You got anything else, let us know," Calvin says.
"Make it more challenging next time," Oliver jokes.
I don't think I've ever seen Oliver smile before today. He's like a totally different person in here. They all are.
The information they gave me opens up all kinds of new theories of who might be sending those texts. I have to tell the guys.
Chapter Sixteen
Ella
"Think back to last semester," I say, standing in front of the guys. We're meeting in that warehouse building again because we didn't have anywhere else to go. Briggs' dad had people over at the house, and at Finn's house and Parker's, there's a chance the hired help would overhear us. They have maids, cooks, gardeners...there's always someone there. It makes me wonder why Briggs' dad doesn't have hired help. Briggs said they have a cleaning lady, but she's only there twice a week.
When I told Briggs what I found out from the tech guys, he decided the four of us needed to meet. We couldn't meet until seven, after Briggs and Parker were done with rugby practice and the gym. My dad's on a date with Susan, so I didn't tell him I'd be going out. I'm hoping he's still gone when I get home.
"Think of all the parties you went to," I say. "Was there anyone there you got in a fight with? Or any girls you assaulted?"
"I don't assault girls," Briggs says in a harsh tone, looking me in the eye.
"I didn't say you did." I point to Finn. "But HE does, and I wouldn't be surprised if Parker does."
"Everything's assault now, so who the fuck knows?" Parker says.
"You really think we remember every party we went to?" Finn asks. "I get drunk and high at parties. Half the time I don't even remember being there."
"What about you two?" I point to Briggs and Parker. "You remember anything?"
Briggs looks at Parker. "What about that girl from Stanford you hooked up with?"
"Which one?"
I roll my eyes.
"The older one," Briggs says. "Dark hair. Dragon tattoo on her back."
Parker smiles. "Yeah, fuck, she was hot. I can't remember her name."
"She got really pissed when she found out you lied about your age."
He nods. "That's right. I forgot about that. And wasn't she into all that tech shit?"
"I think so. That's why I brought her up. She was a grad student studying software engineering or something like that."
"No, it was something like network security. Shit, I don't know. Maybe it was something else."
"We could look it up if you could remember her name," I say. "Network security means she'd probably know how to hack into a company and use their short code so we wouldn't know the texts are coming from her."
Parker looks at Briggs. "Was it Andrea? Kara? I have no fucking clue."
"How the hell would I know? I didn't date her."
"You met her that night. It was the night Scarlett was trying to get me back. She wouldn't leave me alone so I told you to keep Andrea—or whatever her name was—busy until l could get rid of Scarlett."
"Wait—when did this happen?" I ask Parker.
"I think it was October, right before Halloween."
"And you weren't dating Scarlett? I thought you've been dating her for a year."
"On and off for a year. We break up and get back together."
"And sleep with other people while you're broken up?"
"Yeah. Why?"
I shake my head. "Never mind. Doesn't matter. So this Andrea girl might be an option."
"I don't think that was her name," Briggs says. "It might've been Alicia."
"Who the fuck cares?" Finn says as he sits down on the metal desk on the other side of the room. He lays back on it, staring at the ceiling. "Let's just let the asshole turn us in to the cops. They lock us up for a year and let us go. I'd rather do that than keep wasting our time talking about this."
"I'm not going to prison," Parker says. "Are you fucking insane? You know what they do to you in prison?"
"Finn doesn't hit the gym like we do, so he couldn't even fight them off," Briggs says with a laugh. "He'd be someone's bitch on day one."
Parker laughs. "Some old fat guy with a shiny bald head and a tattoo of an eagle on his arm."
"Fuck off!" Finn gives him the finger.
"That Andrea girl is an option," I say, "but I can't imagine her being out on that road alone at night. Is there anyone else who might want revenge? Any guys?"
"Those guys we played against in the tournament last year," Briggs says to Parker. "Remember how pissed they were when we won?"
"Yeah, and I broke that guy's nose when I slammed into him. I could see him wanting revenge for that. Wasn't he a model or something?"
Briggs nods. "That's right. His parents were going to sue you for ruining his career."
Parker looks at me. "Add him to the list. He's an option."
"What's his name?"
"I don't know. Just write down 'guy with the broken nose'."
I sigh. "That's not helpful."
"We need to go home and think about it," Briggs says. "I thought I'd be able to remember more, but I'm like Parker. I'm not good at remembering names. I need to go online and see if I can find the people I think might be options."
"What are you guys going to do about the donation?" I ask. "Have you decided?"
"I'm not doing it," Finn says.
"Same here," Parker says. "There's no way I'm giving up that much money."
"We can't just do nothing," Briggs says. "The guy will go to the cops."
"It'll never fucking end if you give in to him," Parker says.
"We're only doing this to buy time so we can figure out what to do when he turns us in. What if we all chipped in and made one donation?"
"I'm not giving you three grand," Parker says.
"Me either," Finn says.
"That's nothing," Briggs says. "You both can afford to give up three grand."
"Or I could spend it on shit I want," Parker says.
"Shit you don't even need," Briggs says, sounding annoyed. "I'll do it. I'll make the donation."
"You're really giving up ten grand?" Finn asks.
"I don't have a choice. One of us has to do it or the guy will go to the cops. He still might, but there's a chance he won't."
"I'm out of here," Finn says, getting up.
"Should we meet later this week?" I ask.
"Or never," Finn mutters.
"We'll figure it out later," Briggs says.
"You should stop driving the Range Rover," I tell Finn. "It's evidence."
"And you should stop telling me what to do." He gives me a dirty look as he goes past me out the door.
"I'm going too," Parker says. "Lock up when you two are done fucking."
"We're not—"
Briggs gives me a look to keep quiet. He's right. I shouldn't keep reacting when Parker says that stuff. He'll think something's really going on between Briggs and me, which it kind of is, but not really. Briggs hasn't touched me since that afternoon we spent by the pool.
"I'll walk you out," he says, waiting for me to put my laptop away. I brought it thinking we'd use it to research who the texter might be, but the guys weren't interested. They have the attention span of a gnat. It's so frustrating.
We go outside and Briggs shuts the door, making sure it's locked. Then he walks me to my truck. It's dark out and this isn't a good part of town, so I'm glad he stayed behind to make sure I'm safe.
"See you tomorrow," he says.
I open the door to my truck and notice it didn't make that screeching noise it always makes. Now that I think about it, it hasn't done it all day.
"Briggs, did you hear that?" I say, as he's walking away.
"Hear what?"
"My door. It didn't make that noise."
He turns back. "Someone must've oiled it."
"It couldn't have been my dad. He got home late last night and left early this morning."
"He must've done it before he left." Briggs continues to his car.
My dad didn't do it. I know he didn't. I heard him get up this morning and go out to his truck a
nd leave. He didn't oil my door.
I walk over to Briggs as he's getting in his Porsche. "Did you do this?"
"Do what?"
He's sitting in the Porsche now, looking really hot. I never bought into the idea that a certain type of car can make someone more attractive, but I might be starting to believe it seeing Briggs in his Porsche. Maybe it has nothing to do with his car. Maybe it's just him. He looks even hotter than usual tonight.
"Did you fix my door?"
"Do I seem like someone who would know how to do that?"
"No, but you're smart enough to figure it out."
He smiles. "You think I'm smart?"
"Did you do it or not? Just tell me."
He gets out of the car, his tall, muscular body towering over me. "Why would I fix it?"
"Because you hate the noise it makes. You've been complaining about it for years."
"That's the only reason I'd do it?"
I look at him, trying to tell from his face if he did it or not, but his expression isn't telling me anything.
"I think you did it. Either because you hate the noise or because you wanted to do something nice."
He points to himself. "Me? Do something nice?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but I think you're capable of it. I think you can be nice if you want to."
"You don't know me that well."
"I know you well enough to know you're not a complete asshole like I thought you were. You're more of a partial asshole, like fifty percent, or maybe sixty. Some days, ninety."
He chuckles. "What was I today?"
I shrug. "Forty?"
"That's it? Seems low."
"You got extra points for fixing my door. When did you do it?"
"Last night. I couldn't sleep so I went over and fixed your door."
"What time?"
"Like three in the morning? It was easy. I looked it up online."
"Why'd you fix it?"
"I'm going to let you decide that."
"Just tell me."
"If you really knew me, you'd know why."
I pause. "You did it to be nice."
"If that's what you want to think." He gets in his car.
"Briggs?"
"What?"
I take a step back. "Could you come over here?"
He gets out of the Porsche and comes over to me. "What do you want?"