The Wrong Side of Kai

by Estelle Maskame

  I steal a quick glance at my own reflection in my mirror as I leave the room to fetch Kai – sweatpants and a tank top, my hair in a high ponytail, this morning’s makeup blotchy and smudged. I don’t really care, though. We aren’t heading out anywhere tonight, so comfort is the way forward. It’s like having a sleepover with your best friends, except no one is spending the night, and only one of my guests is actually my best friend.

  I take the staircase too fast, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ears as I rush downstairs. Ever since I left the diner earlier, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about kissing Kai. That’s why I pause for a second in the hall before I let him in, adjusting my sweatpants and massaging lip balm into my lips – yesterday I would have thrown the door open without hesitation. Suddenly, everything I say and do around him feels like it matters.

  When I open the door, Kai is standing on my porch, looking out over my lawn. He’s wearing black gym shorts and a T-shirt, with that same cap from earlier today still on his head, and I spot his bike resting against the porch. He turns to face me. “Hey,” he says, touching the bill of his hat and giving me a courtesy nod.

  Lord, have mercy. I tear my eyes away from his chest and concentrate on maintaining eye contact instead. I realize that it’s the first time I’ve invited a guy over to my house. “Hi.”

  Kai stares at me expectantly, his smile widening. “So, can I come in or do you need me to stay out in the yard?”

  “Come in,” I splutter, stepping back from the door and motioning him inside my cold, empty house. My heart beats a little faster as Kai steps over the threshold, kicking off his Jordans and carefully pushing them to the side. He keeps his eyes on me, waiting for guidance on what to do next, his smile growing more strained the longer I’m silent. “Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. Snap the hell out of it, I tell myself. “We’re upstairs in my room.”

  I head for the stairs again, taking the few moments of silence to pull myself together before I do something embarrassing that I’ll regret, and Kai follows close behind me. I can sense him looking around, studying my home.

  “Vanessa?” a voice calls from the kitchen. It’s Dad. “Who are you talking to?”

  Oh, so now he wants to pay attention to me? I pause, one foot on the staircase, and look over at Dad as he walks over. He’s drying his hands with a towel, glancing back and forth between Kai and me, his expression blank as ever. That’s the thing with Dad – he’s emotionless.

  “This is Kai,” I tell him quickly. “We have a homework assignment together, so we’ll be upstairs.”

  “Hey,” Kai says, flashing Dad a polite smile and giving a little wave. I bet he wants to sink into the floor.

  “Okay,” Dad says. He doesn’t smile in return, only throws the dishtowel over his shoulder and pads back into the kitchen. To a stranger like Kai, Dad must come across as rude and hostile, but that’s only because they can’t see that he is really just grief-stricken and lost.

  I continue up the stairs and silently pray that Kai doesn’t mention the encounter, but of course, he does. How could he not? Dad gives off a weird vibe. So cold, so stoic . . . It’s unnatural.

  “You’re sneaking a guy up to your room at night and your dad doesn’t give me the look?” Kai questions once we’re upstairs and out of earshot.

  “That’s because he doesn’t care,” I say over my shoulder. I can’t look back at him right now.

  “Well, what about your mom?”

  “Not here. Working late,” I lie. My heart pangs with guilt. It’s not a secret – I was the kid in the sophomore year whose grandparents had to pull her out of class in a frantic mayhem of panic because her mom had just passed away that afternoon. I was always surrounded by friends who invited me to hang out, who sat with me at lunch, who were always just so nice. I was the girl whose mom was dead, but the pressure of all of that pity got tedious. I didn’t want to be defined by my mom’s death anymore.

  It wasn’t long before I realized that it wasn’t so difficult to get my peers to react toward me in a different kind of way, one that had nothing to do with pity. That’s why I kissed Andy Donovan under the bleachers and made sure the news was on everyone’s lips. It got me attention, but this time it was for a completely different reason than my mom’s death.

  We walk into my room and Chyna has managed to style her hair into a puff above her head, smoothing down her baby hairs with a toothbrush. She glances over at the door when we enter and immediately stops touching her hair.

  “Kai, this is Chyna. My best friend and computer whizz extraordinaire,” I say, flashing her a grin as I close the door behind us, “and Chyna, this is Kai. My accomplice and tire-slasher extraordinaire. You sort of met at the party.” We all share a laugh.

  “Hey,” Kai says, giving Chyna a nod, and she squeaks back a quiet hello.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” I tell Kai. I flop back down onto my bed, secretly hoping that he’ll join me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits down on my floor. When his back is turned for a mere second, Chyna and I exchange a look – her eyes go wide and her mouth pulls into a tight smile, a clear signal that she agrees with me on the fact that Kai is seriously hot. We didn’t get much chance to discuss him at the party.

  “So, did you charge the phone?” Kai asks, getting straight to business. He leans back against my wall and pulls his knees up to his chest.

  “All charged,” Chyna says. She yanks the charger out of Harrison’s phone on the dresser and gets up, sitting down cross-legged on my bed next to me. She grabs her laptop too but doesn’t turn it on yet. “I know it’s obvious, but have you guys tried guessing the passcode?” She taps at the phone. “It’s only a four-digit passcode. I’ll check the obvious.” I watch over her shoulder as she tries entering four zeroes, and then one-two-three-four, but neither of them gains us access to Harrison’s life. Chyna thinks, then looks over at me. “Do you know his birthday?”

  “Oh! I do, actually,” I say, feeling surprisingly useful. “It was Labor Day because we hooked up . . .” My words trail off when I remind myself that Chyna and I aren’t the only two people in my room. I can’t talk so freely about my time spent with Harrison when I have a guest.

  Kai scoffs and pulls out his own phone. He scrolls for a second, checking his calendar, then says, “Labor Day was September third this year. Try that, Chyna. By the way, is it spelled like the country?”

  “Nope, spelled like my name,” Chyna says with a wry smile. She tries different combinations of dates on Harrison’s phone, like zero-nine-zero-three for September 3rd, and nine-three-zero-one for September 3rd ’01, but still nothing. She puts the phone down and opens up her laptop instead. “Okay, we can’t guess it. And you want all the files, so I can’t just reset the phone to factory settings,” Chyna says, voicing her thoughts out loud. “Time to download all kinds of risky software, and if some virus blows up my computer, you guys are buying me a new one. This might take a while.” She plumps up my pillows and gets comfortable.

  “Absolutely,” I promise. I do appreciate Chyna helping us, especially when I know she doesn’t think what we’re doing is right. Her moral compass is vastly stronger than mine, but she always puts our friendship first before anything else. That’s why she’s so willing to help out.

  “Hey, Nessie,” Kai says from the floor. “I added another idea to the list after I left the diner.”

  I scoot over to the edge of my bed and look down at him, raising an eyebrow. “And why did you leave the diner?”

  “Saw someone I didn’t want to talk to,” he says quickly, brushing it off, “which gave me an idea. You said Harrison goes to Bob Evans every Wednesday night.” I nod. “How do you think he’d feel if an unwanted guest turned up?”

  “Go on,” I say curiously, sitting down on the floor next to him. I don’t know how much distance to keep between us. Too far might make it noticeable and awkward. Too close might also make it noticeable and awkward. I position myself a foot away, and wonder if the pers
on he didn’t want to talk to at the diner was the same girl who approached me after he left. She obviously knew who he was, after all.

  Kai pulls out that little notepad from the pocket of his gym shorts and clears his throat, reading over the new notes he’s added. “So we set up a fake profile for him on some ‘no strings’ dating app or whatever. An ‘up for anything’ profile, because sending his usual type his way seems like more a favor than an annoyance. And we talk to some people, then ask them if they want to meet at Bob Evans tomorrow night.” Kai glances sideways at me and smiles. “We can discreetly watch as Harrison becomes hounded by chancers who think he’s down for some fun.”

  “Isn’t that cruel on the innocent people who get hurt in this too?” Chyna questions from my bed, eyeballing us over the top of her laptop, disapproval written all over her face. “And I’ve seen that prank happen in movies like a gazillion times. Not really original.”

  “It doesn’t need to be original. It just needs to work,” Kai tells her, his tone as nonchalant as ever. “And when it comes to Harrison Boyd, we need stuff that works.”

  “Hmm, okay. Point taken,” Chyna grumbles, averting her eyes back to her laptop screen. “I just hope you’re not leading my best friend astray.”

  Kai looks at me, taking in my features. The corner of his mouth curves into a tiny, knowing smile that’s almost . . . pitiful. “I think she was already astray when I found her.”

  My chest tightens when he says this. Is that a joke or is there meaning behind his words? Suddenly, in that exact second, I wish Kai could see straight through me, like he knows my mom is dead and my dad doesn’t care and my sister needs me to protect her and I don’t believe in relationships because I’m scared of being left heartbroken and I get drunk and stay out late and fool around with guys because I’m acting out to get attention and I say that I don’t care when I do care. But then I remind myself that it’s impossible for Kai to know these things.

  “Don’t worry, Chyna,” I say, forcing down the lump in my throat and keeping my voice even, “I know the limits.” Or at least I think I do.

  She doesn’t reply.

  “So?” Kai urges. He sits up a little and holds up his phone. “Do I download some sleazy app or nah?”

  “Let’s do it,” I say, biting back laughter.

  “Man, I hope no one sees this on my phone . . .” he mumbles as he downloads the app, and I let that laugh escape as we both huddle in closer around his phone.

  Kai doesn’t follow or have Harrison as a friend on any social media, so it becomes a team effort to essentially steal his identity. I snoop through Harrison’s Facebook and Instagram accounts, picking out different pictures of him and then texting them over to Kai’s phone where he adds them to the fake account we’re putting together.

  Harrison, young and hot, Westerville.

  “Bio?” Kai asks, looking up from his phone. “Chyna, any thoughts on a biography for our friend Harrison?”

  Chyna fires him a look, because Kai has yet to understand that she is simply here on the grounds of hacking a phone, and not because she wants to be part of our overall scheme. “Hey, I’m not really Harrison, don’t meet me,” she suggests, smiling sweetly.

  “I know,” I say, taking Kai’s phone from him. My thumbs hover over his screen, ready to type, when I notice that his phone is in airplane mode. It raises my suspicions – why doesn’t he want any notifications coming through right now? And then it crosses my mind, for the very first time, that I don’t even know if Kai is single. What if he has a girlfriend?

  “You need to type something,” he says into my ear, his breath tickling my cheek. I’m pretty sure all the hairs on my arms stand up.

  I swallow hard and type a biography for Harrison:

  What’s up? I’m Harrison. I’m just testing the waters here so casual encounters only. Keeping it low-key.

  “That’ll do for now,” Kai says, taking his phone back. His fingers brush over my hand, but all I can think is that there’s a girl out there who will kill us both if she finds out her boyfriend is in my room. He finishes setting up the profile, then grins proudly once we’re all set and ready to go. “Time to start chatting.”

  I know what we’re doing is wrong, but I have a one-track mind right now. All I can focus on is screwing with Harrison, nothing else, so I’m incapable of worrying about the consequences of my actions. Kai and I spend a while talking to different people, striking up casual conversations, until eventually Kai gets up to head for the bathroom. It leaves me in charge of all the scandalous communication.

  The second Kai leaves the room, Chyna lowers the lid of her laptop and gives me a scolding look. She slowly shakes her head, lips pursed. “Girl, he’s an absolute snack, but he’s also kind of a jerk. What nice guy would really be happy to do all this stuff?”

  “And I kind of need him to be a jerk,” I say. I pull myself up from the floor and sit down on the edge of my bed with a deep sigh. “No nice guy was ever going to slash Harrison’s tires for me, or sneak into locker rooms with me, or set up a fake ‘casual encounters’ profile with me. I’m being a jerk too.” My smile is tired, disheartened. “I know you don’t agree with what we’re doing, but . . . have you seen what everyone is saying about me online? Harrison did that to me. He betrayed me.”

  Chyna pushes her laptop to the side and crawls over to me, hooking her arms around me and burying her head into my shoulder. “Okay, Vans. You do what you need to do.”

  I reach up and squeeze her hand. I know screwing with Harrison won’t make that video ever go away, but it’ll at least offer some compensation. “Thanks. And I promise we won’t take it too far.”

  “You better not, because I’m not bailing you out of jail for committing a felony,” she teases half-heartedly, pushing me away as she crawls back to her laptop, sinking back into my pillows. “Even though I’m pretty sure I’m committing a crime myself right now.”

  “And I love you for it,” I say. I blow her a kiss, she catches it, and then I leave the room to go find Kai. I want a minute to talk to him alone, and I catch him out in the hall just as he’s making his way back to my room. I close my bedroom door behind me.

  “I don’t think your friend likes me all that much,” Kai says with a wary smile. He leans back against the wall and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his gym shorts.

  “You’re right. She doesn’t,” I agree. It’s quiet out in the hall, only the sound of the static buzz of Kennedy’s TV from the other room. There are no lights on up here, either. We keep our voices low. “This might sound crazy,” I say slowly, “but it feels like I’ve known you for way longer than forty-eight hours.”

  Kai’s eyes softly narrow as he looks me over, his gaze meeting mine. “Maybe because I’m already seeing your worst side and you’re already seeing mine. Most people don’t see this stuff until at least six months down the line.”

  I cover my face with my hands and let out a frustrated groan of self-defeat. “We’re assholes, aren’t we?”

  “Only because we have to be,” Kai says. I drop my hands and lift my head, searching his face for answers, desperately seeking a reason for why Kai is even here right now. He knows exactly what I’m doing, because he says, “You’re wondering again why I’m doing this, aren’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t have to wonder if you actually told me,” I say. I cock my head to one side and stare at him. “I mean, c’mon. Who am I to judge?”

  Kai’s gentle smile falters into a frown. He looks down at the floor and is silent for a few seconds, deliberating over whether to finally tell me the truth. He shrugs, but never glances back up.

  “Harrison was texting my girlfriend behind my back,” he says, his voice unusually gruff. “Knew she wasn’t single. Kept hitting her up anyway and trust me, he’s persistent – I read the messages he hounded her with. That’s when I found out she was cheating on me back in the summer.”

  I know in that moment that I’m a selfish human being, because all I can t
hink about is the relief that comes with the realization that yes, Kai must be single. “I’m sorry. You don’t want to be with a girl like that, anyway.”

  He looks up, his face thunderous. “I was in love with her, but she wasn’t in love with me. So yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to be with a girl like that.”

  The hurt in his eyes takes me aback. In the past forty-eight hours, I’ve only ever seen Kai’s fun, playful nature and his mischievous smirks. It’s like there’s a totally brand-new person standing in front of me now – a boy whose anger is bubbling within him, a boy who is hurt.

  “Then Harrison deserves everything that’s coming to him,” I say with a nod.

  Harrison not only sent an explicit video of me out into the world, he also stole Kai Washington’s girlfriend. Any morality I had left is now gone. Between the two of us, we’re bringing Harrison Boyd down.

  11

  I wake at six the following morning to a text from Chyna telling me to check my email. Groggy and half asleep, I search for my laptop in the dark and boot it up. The brightness of the screen burns my eyes, forcing me to squint. It’s too early, but my need to find out what exactly it is that Chyna has emailed me is desperate, irresistible.

  Last night’s process of hacking into the device ended up taking much longer than we anticipated. Chyna left at eleven with her laptop and promised to stay up as late as necessary until the slow extraction of Harrison’s files was complete. Meanwhile, Kai and I, posing as Harrison, openly flirted with far too many different folk to count on that app. A handful of them now thinks they’re meeting Harrison later tonight at Bob Evans.

  I pull up my email: A list of unopened newsletters from websites I don’t remember ever signing up for, and a new email from Chyna. My stomach lurches when I read the subject line: Harrison’s files.