The Wrong Side of Kai

by Estelle Maskame

  My heart is thumping as I open the email. It’s blank except for a zipped folder, which I automatically download. The next thirty seconds feel excruciatingly slow, but I’m wide awake now, hunched over the laptop and drumming my fingers against the keypad. Finally, a list of folders appears on my screen: Messages, Photos, Videos, Music, Mail, and Notes.

  I stare at the folders, adrenaline flooding my bloodstream, deciding which to open first. It’s so exhilarating, the thought of having Harrison’s life at my fingertips . . . I decide to get the boring files out of the way first. I check his music, but it’s mostly Drake and Post Malone albums, though there’s also a Taylor Swift album in there, which makes me chuckle.

  Then I check his email, but his inbox is as boring and as ignored as my own: hundreds of unopened spam emails, random newsletters, and the occasional stranger offering to transfer him three million dollars if he provides his social security number. Oh, and the portable loudspeaker he bought on Amazon was dispatched yesterday.

  I open up his notes next. A couple of reminders about assignments that are due, a list of colleges I’m guessing he must be interested in, and then the first worthwhile thing I’ve found so far: names. Names that include my own.

  Lizzie Avery 7/10

  Madison Romy 5/10

  Sierra Jennings 8/10

  Vanessa Murphy 9/10

  I stare dumbfounded at my computer screen, the names etching themselves into my retinas.

  It’s the girls he’s hooked up with.

  It has to be. There’s no other explanation, especially because my name is the newest addition. It’s so gross and it makes me want to claw at my skin. How could I have ever been attracted to a guy like this? And Madison Romy is on there too? Oh, damn. I would have never guessed that in a million years. Lizzie Avery, however? She’s on the cheer squad, so that’s no surprise. Even expected, more like. But Sierra Jennings? The name draws a blank in my head. I’ve never heard of her, and unless she’s a freshman, then I’m convinced she doesn’t go to Westerville North. Unless . . .

  Unless Sierra Jennings is Kai’s ex.

  I grab my phone and take a picture of the list on my screen. This information is more intriguing than useful, and it’s made me realize that Harrison is kind of a dog. I mean, seriously? Rating the girls he’s been with? Like he needs to create a list to record his achievements? What a scumbag. I should have known that on Sunday when he told me I wasn’t the only girl he had on speed dial.

  There’s nothing else of interest in his notes, so I move over to his messages. The messages are displayed as a thread of text, each conversation contained in its own subfolder. I open Harrison’s messages with me first, even though I know exactly what they say. Our last messages to each other were on Sunday night before I ended things and he kicked me out of his truck. I scroll back through the thread, all the way back to our very first exchange on the first day of September. It was me who got in touch first.

  VANESSA: Hey, it’s Vanessa. Saw you at Polaris earlier. We should hang out sometime.

  HARRISON: What’s up? Yeah, maybe we should.

  In hindsight, I wish I had never texted him. I was bored, having cooled things down with Nick Foster a month earlier, when I saw Harrison at the mall. He just happened to look hotter than usual that day and I wondered what it’d be like to kiss him. We hooked up for the first time that same night, embarking on what soon became a two-month fling.

  I cringe as I flick through the rest of our messages. All the flirting and teasing . . . None of it was worth it. But how was I supposed to know that Harrison would turn out to be such a jackass? That he would have absolutely zero respect for me?

  I brace myself – I don’t know what I’ll find this time – then read his messages with Noah and Anthony too, mostly focusing on what they all discussed on Sunday night and also Monday when the video was first leaked. They are all in one big group chat together with a handful of other guys from the team.

  HARRISON: You were right, man. She just cut things off. Left her at Heritage Park lol. Girls like her will get picked up easily there.

  NOAH: Told you she gets bored quickly.

  ANTHONY: Who do you think she’ll go after next?

  NOAH: You if you’re unlucky enough ;)

  Then I can see that Harrison sent a file into the chat just after six the next morning, and I know exactly which file that was. In front of me is the exact moment Harrison broke my trust and shared that video. I can’t bring myself to read the string of messages that followed, so I close that chat.

  I then work my way through each subfolder of conversations with different contacts, reading mundane texts between Harrison and his parents, until I get to the exchanges between Harrison and Sierra Jennings. I hesitate before I open the folder. I’m suddenly aware that I’m snooping around Harrison’s private life, and it feels wrong, but I mentally remind myself that he doesn’t deserve privacy. He didn’t give me any.

  I check my phone for the time. It’s 06:23. The darkness outside is beginning to lift. I inhale and open the folder, glued to my screen as I read over the most recent texts between Harrison Boyd and Sierra Jennings. They’re from Monday.

  HARRISON: A lot of shit happened today. Need you to make me feel better.

  SIERRA: Oh, babe. Do you want me to come over?

  Oh, babe indeed.

  So. Sierra Jennings is the other girl then, which feels immensely awkward, given that she’s Kai’s ex. This feels like the worst love triangle in the world, the way we’re now all linked.

  For a second, I contemplate forwarding all these files over to Kai. The texts date right back to January, message after message after message . . . but then I remember that Kai has already read them. These are the messages that led him to discover the truth about Harrison and Sierra in the first place, and he wasn’t kidding when he said Harrison was persistent. At the beginning, the messages are pretty innocent. Harrison and Sierra talked about school – despite being students at different ones – and what they’d been up to that day. Harrison suggests they should hang out sometime; Sierra says no, she has a boyfriend. I skip ahead to their messages from March. Harrison has grown more full-on by then, begging Sierra to let him take her out, promising her fancy dinners and nights she wouldn’t forget. She entertains the idea, and even seems amused whenever Harrison makes digs at Kai. He continuously tells Sierra that she can do so much better, and I decide I don’t want to read the rest. I’ve already realized I don’t really like Sierra Jennings, and that I’d be pissed too if I found out someone made such an effort to steal someone away from me.

  I take a deep breath and decide that it’s time to open up Harrison’s videos. It’s impossible to ignore the fact that one of the videos in this folder has caused total uproar. If Harrison had never sent out that video, we could have simply ignored one another. Nothing more than a fling that was done and dusted, rather than turning into the war that it is now.

  It’s the most recent video there is.

  But the truth is, I can’t even open it, let alone watch it, and I immediately delete it from my computer. I don’t want that video in my life, and that includes on my hard drive.

  I search through the rest of Harrison’s collection instead. Blurred, out-of-focus videos from parties. Short clips of him and the guys at football practice. And then a video that I know could be lethal if it got into the wrong hands.

  Hands such as my own . . .

  A video of Harrison, Noah, Anthony and some other guys from the team. They’re sitting in the bleachers of our football field, apparently late at night and after hours because there’re no floodlights on. The image isn’t clear – Harrison’s moving his phone around too much – but there’s no mistaking what’s going on. Huddled in their circle up on the bleachers, the guys pass a burning joint around, each taking a drag. Getting stoned on school property . . . Not a smart thing to do in the first place. But filming evidence of it? Harrison has gone beyond the realms of stupidity here.

  W
hich is utterly wonderful news for me.

  If I really wanted to ruin Harrison’s life, I could anonymously email these videos over to Couch Maverick. Harrison would be kicked off the team for sure without question, blowing up his chances of playing college football. It would be a severe, risky move to make . . . but just the power of knowing it’s an opportunity I could grab is satisfying enough. I make an extra copy of the video, just in case I ever feel forced to use it as a weapon.

  Finally, I open up Harrison’s photos. There’s thousands of them. I scroll quickly through page after page of files, skimming through the images for anything that jumps out at me. There’s everything from pictures of juicy burgers to internet memes, too boring to bother looking at, but then something truly exciting catches my eye.

  I enlarge the image.

  And at 06:47, I let out a laugh so loud that it ruptures the morning silence.

  “Oh, Harrison,” I say, shaking my head at my screen, “you’re making payback far too easy.”

  12

  After Chyna and I arrive at school and she heads off to grab her books from her locker, I remain outside, lingering by the bike racks. I keep my head down and try to stay under the radar, and for the most part, it works. No one bothers me today, but it’s still only day three of that video being out there in the public domain, so I would be naive to believe that everyone has forgotten about it already. The reality is that everyone is still talking about it – only behind my back this time, I bet.

  I kick at the concrete for a while, pacing back and forth, until I hear the distinct sound of a bike’s wheels spinning. I look up and let out a breath of relief when I spot Kai making his way toward me.

  “Good morning,” he says, squeaking to a stop. He swiftly gets off the bike and begins locking it up to the rack, eyeing me over his shoulder. We didn’t plan to meet here. In fact, I think we’re still supposed to be trying our best not to be seen together.

  “Chyna got the files,” I splutter. I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet, and I can feel the weight of both mine and Harrison’s phones in the pockets of my jacket. I reach out and excitedly squeeze Kai’s elbow, unable to contain myself. I’ve been sitting on this information all morning and I’ve been dying to break the news to him. “I looked through everything as soon as I woke up, and there’s so much stuff we can use.”

  Kai straightens up and glances down at my hand on his arm. I quickly let go. “Seriously? Damn, I need to give your friend more credit,” he says. “What did you find?”

  “Videos of Harrison and some other guys on the team smoking pot in the bleachers. Some photos that will be useful. And I think he’s had a thing with Madison Romy.”

  “The girl from the diner?”

  “Yeah. That might explain why she’s so willing to help us out,” I say as the realization dawns on me. There must be a reason why no one has ever heard about the two of them hooking up. It seems like the kind of thing Maddie would brag about – getting with a guy from the football team pretty much boosts your position in the school hierarchy – so why has she kept it a secret? “Meet me at the office after school?”

  Kai nods. “And don’t talk to me in class.”

  I roll my eyes as he turns and walks away, but I find myself rooted to the spot, staring after him. I didn’t tell him everything I found – like those messages between Harrison and Sierra. It seems cruel to let him know that I’ve read them, because I’m sure those messages are really humiliating to him now. Harrison and Sierra made Kai look like a fool.

  “Kai,” I say loudly. He stops walking and glances back over his shoulder. I lower my voice and can’t stop myself from asking, “Her name is Sierra Jennings, right? Your girlfriend.”

  Something flashes in Kai’s eyes. Resignation, but also anger. His mouth twitches, his eyes narrow. He’s silent for a few seconds. “Ex-girlfriend,” he quietly emphasizes, then turns and keeps on walking, staring at the ground.

  I watch him until he disappears inside the school building, then I count to thirty in my head before I make my way inside too just as the first period bell rings out. I head straight for my Biology class, but I do notice as I pass my locker that it has been scrubbed clean. None of the graffiti from yesterday remains and my locker looks brand new, shining a little more brightly than the rest. At least that’s something.

  Surprisingly, I don’t end up rattled by nerves as I approach the science labs. I share this class with Harrison, and when I walked into this room on Monday, I slapped him. I haven’t been in here since, but I feel relaxed, in control. It’s because I have all the power now. Harrison has nothing more to use against me, whereas I have everything to use against him. He’s blissfully unaware that when he and his father are enjoying their burgers at Bob Evans later tonight, a handful of so-called dates will be approaching him. He’s also unaware that I’m not doing all of this on my own, that I have a kickass accomplice. And although Harrison is aware that I’m the most probable suspect in the theft of his phone, I doubt he has any idea that I have access to every single one of his files. Having the ball in my court feels empowering.

  I walk into the lab, my head held high. Maddie Romy’s face is the first I see. She gives me a quick, small smile of acknowledgment for the first time in her life and then looks away. Even she doesn’t want to be associated with me in public, but I don’t take it personally. She’s doing Kai and me a favor later, anyway, so as far as I’m concerned, she’s one of the few people I can actually trust around here right now.

  And then I see the face that was once so gorgeous but is now anything but – Harrison Boyd’s.

  He’s at his usual desk, his eyes already glued to me, following my every move as I weave my way around the room. The desk next to him where I usually sit is still empty, so mustering up every ounce of courage that I can, I walk over and sit down a mere two feet away from him.

  “Hi, Harrison,” I say sweetly, my smile angelic. I angle my body toward him and reach into my jacket pocket, presenting him with his phone that went missing from the locker rooms yesterday. I find it so much easier to feign confidence rather than letting my anger push me to tears. “Were you looking for this?”

  Harrison nearly bursts out of his chair and snatches the device from my hand. He gives his phone a quick once over, making sure I haven’t smashed the screen, even though I now wish that I had. His eyes flash back up to look at me, completely enraged. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I couldn’t guess your passcode,” I tell him, flicking my hair over my shoulder. I turn back toward the front of the class and remain silent for a few moments just to antagonize him, then shoot him a sideways glance. “But I didn’t need to.”

  Harrison looks around the class as people continue to file in, then edges in closer to me and hisses, “What are you talking about?”

  “I wonder what Coach Maverick would say if I sent him that video of you getting stoned in the bleachers,” I taunt, my tone perfectly innocent.

  Harrison’s face pales. He looks down at his phone in his hand, perplexed as to how I’ve gotten access to it, then clenches his jaw. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “You like to send out videos.” I turn to face him again, my expression entirely blank, acting disinterested in this exchange. “Why can’t I do the same?”

  Harrison groans and rubs his hands over his face, fighting to keep his anger in check. We’re quiet so as not to cause a scene, though a few of our classmates are already tuned in. “Just don’t, Vanessa. I swear to God. You slashed my tires – which are costing a fortune to replace, by the way – and next you took my phone hostage. Stop messing with me.” His nostrils flare as he grows more exasperated. Desperately, he reaches out for my wrist, forcing me to keep my attention on him. “I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have shared that video. I was pissed at you.”

  “Harrison,” I say, gently pulling my wrist free from his grasp, “I’m just getting started.” I give him a tight, challenging smile, then turn a
way.

  “Vanessa,” he hisses, but I don’t so much as glance at him for the rest of class.

  He whispers my name every chance he gets. Even tries to pass me a note, which I promptly push off the edge of my desk. It’s fun watching him beg, especially because I know he isn’t actually sorry about releasing that video of us. He only wants me to stop playing tricks on him.

  When class ends, I calmly gather up my books and strut out of the room.

  All the while Harrison stares helplessly after me.

  *

  The hallways are silent. Kai stands ten feet away from me, pretending to text, keeping his head down. I sit on a chair outside the school’s main office, one leg crossed over the other, staring at him. I should really be in detention right now, but I’m willing to accept double-time for skipping it. I haven’t turned up once this week and I’m surprised it hasn’t been brought to Principal Stone’s attention yet.

  “You do know that you’re more than welcome to eat lunch at our table, right?” I ask Kai. Earlier today when I gave him a subtle wave in the school cafeteria, he totally blanked me and sat on his own instead.

  “But then people will assume that we’re friends,” Kai replies quietly, refusing to lift his head as he speaks. He’s doing that thing again where he takes our undercover mission way too seriously. Even though there’s no one else around and classes ended twenty minutes ago, he’s still worried someone will creep up and spot the two of us together.

  “And you don’t want to be friends?”

  “Yes, I do,” he says, trying to fight the smile that’s growing, “but not until this mission is over.”

  I wonder for a minute when this will be over. How far do we plan to go with our mission to screw with Harrison? When will we decide that we’ve done enough? I’m about to ask Kai this when my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the floor.