Investigating Julius Drake

by daisy harris

  “Yeah.” I was already lying in bed, but I hoisted the computer in her direction. “Here.”

  “Did you reach him?” Her frown said she knew I hadn’t.

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” Last year she would have smiled and said we could talk to Dad tomorrow, even if it was a lie. She must have decided I was old enough to face the truth. Dad wasn’t really there for us. He wanted to be, but he wasn’t.

  No wonder she cried sometimes when she thought I couldn’t hear.

  “Good night, Henry.” She stroked my hair.

  “Yeah.” I got under the sheets. “Good night.”

  Clinton’s auditorium was as spotless as the rest of the school. Giant windows lined both sides of the room, framing the seats and ensuring that the students at the ends of the rows were freezing. For today’s assembly, the school had us coming in on a rotation, with each group made up of students from all four years. The idea, I think, was that we were supposed to learn to relate to people outside our own class. In reality, it just meant that freshmen shivered, scared to open their mouths, and seniors sat in the warmer sections, snickering.

  “In closing, remember to keep open the lines of communication with your teachers, your classmates, parents, and school administrators,” the presenter said. He had long hair pulled back in a bun and wore a gray polar fleece vest. “We’re all here to help one another. Any questions?”

  Everyone in the assembly looked around. No one raised their hand.

  “In that case, namaste! Go forth and treat each other with kindness.”

  I put my hands in my pockets. I’d kept a low profile since my meeting with Liz the week before.

  “Guess it’s over.” Next to me, Thea pushed out of her seat. She was the only member of Bethany’s squad who’d been in my assembly section that morning.

  As we made our way to the edge of the row, I kept a wary eye on the couple of swim team members in the back of the room. Recon had taught me that they were Todd Terwillager and Roy Frank. Now that Hal was back in school, I’d seen the three of them together a few times.

  “What did you do over the weekend?” Thea asked as we headed out of the auditorium.

  I thought about how to answer. More to the point, how to make it sound adequately glamorous. All I’d done was browse thrift shops for back-to-school clothes. I doubted my finding a pair of barely used Lucky jeans for nine dollars qualified as newsworthy.

  “Nothing much,” I said. “Just some errands with my mom.”

  We got through the doors and out into a hallway. Students flowed in a chatty, messy river toward the school’s various wings. Halfway down the hall, Todd and Roy leaned against lockers. Todd, with his gelled, chestnut hair and nice arms, and Roy, short but muscular.

  Their gazes locked on mine. Their sneers suggested they were unmoved by the school’s antibullying campaign.

  “Hey, Walker.” Todd’s chin took on gargantuan proportions as he jutted it out at me. “Come over here.”

  “What the hell do you want with him?” Thea strode over to my side. I got the feeling she felt bad about backing down the first day in the cafeteria and had been looking for an opportunity to redeem herself ever since.

  “It’s okay.” I stepped around her. “What’s up, man?”

  “I want to know what that freak friend of yours did to my boy.”

  By “his boy,” I guessed he meant Hal. As for the “freak” in question, the person most associated with that title was Julius.

  “What would he have done to Hal? We only talked to him for five minutes.”

  “Yeah, well that was five minutes too many.” Roy stepped closer to me. I copied him, moving forward. And then the weirdest thing happened. For a split second, Roy’s brown eyes widened like he was actually scared. Like he thought I was dangerous.

  “Henry didn’t do anything,” Thea said. “As for Julius Drake, he and Henry aren’t even friends.” Thea must have had a bee in her bonnet against Todd, because she stepped up in his face like she would push him.

  “We’re sort of friends,” I said. Julius and I had a connection, at least. I’d hate for people at school to think we were enemies.

  “You are?” Thea’s lower lip stuck out.

  “Better make up your mind which way you swing, loser, or your girlfriend will want to find a real man.” Todd pushed off the wall, shoving his chest out and glancing at Thea’s breasts.

  “I’m not his girlfriend, pervert.” Still, Thea brushed my sleeve, which might have contradicted the not-a-girlfriend argument.

  “Whatever.” Todd shoved his way between us, knocking my shoulder and Thea’s arm as he went. “You stay the fuck away from my friends, Walker. And if I see Drake around, I won’t think twice about kicking his ass. We hold back because his sister’s cool, but—”

  “Yeah.” I backed up. “I get it.”

  Thea led me through the double glass doors into a walkway between buildings. “You and Julius are friends?” she asked quietly. “When did that happen?”

  “The other day, I guess. After we got called to Liz’s office.”

  “Oh.” Thea opened the next set of doors. The hallway on this side was pale blue and cream.

  “Julius lives in my neighborhood. I mean, not exactly.” I didn’t want Thea thinking I had as much money as Julius did. “But I’ve run into him at Starbucks. So . . .”

  “Oh. But you’re not . . .” For a girl normally so confident, she seemed to shrink. “You and he are just friends, right?”

  “Yeah, of course. I don’t know what you—” My face heated. “We’re not anything else.” Did Thea think Julius and I were together or something? Like a couple? Did guys even do that freshman year of high school?

  “We should get to class.” Thea waved me toward our Anatomy and Cell Biology classroom. Bethany stood outside, smiling in our direction.

  “Hey, guys.” Bethany bounced up to me and Thea. She gave me a hug. “How was the talk?”

  “Good.” Thea set down her backpack and pulled out a sweatshirt. As she was putting it on, I noticed with discomfort that her top half wasn’t as developed as Bethany’s. That was weird, though. If I liked Julius so much, why was I even noticing Thea’s chest, or lack thereof?

  “Paul is on the warpath.” Bethany tutted. “I hope you did all your reading.”

  “Shoot.” Thea dug in her stuff. “I only got halfway through it.”

  I looked at the ceiling, trying to control my urge to compare Bethany’s and Thea’s chests any further. “I’ve got to use the restroom. Can you tell Paul I’ll be in in a second?”

  “Sure,” Bethany said.

  As I pushed into the washroom, I got my phone out of my pocket. There, in red, was a missed call from Julius’s number. Funny, but I hadn’t added him as a contact yet.

  Clicking around, I entered his name.

  Then, before putting my phone away, I wrote a text. We should do that thing you talked about the other night. At your place. What are you doing after school?

  I hit Send.

  I might have decided to help Julius on his mission, but I still needed backup, which was why Bethany was behind me in Mrs. Hundstead’s minivan as we crested the ridge in front of Julius’s house.

  “Tell me again why we need a chaperone?” Julius jerked his head at the rear seat.

  Bethany crinkled her nose, making her glasses rise above her eyebrows. “Hal never would have been distracted enough for you to get those pictures if it hadn’t been for me.”

  Julius didn’t answer. When we pulled to a stop in his driveway, he stomped out of the van.

  His house had two entryways, one at the very front, which he avoided in favor of another, further toward the back. This made sense since the front entry had rustic columns, sconces, and overflowing planters and seemed too fancy for everyday use.

  The back entrance, however, looked like a normal suburban back door, albeit one that was taller than average, with a gold knocker.

  Thr
ough the doorway was a combination kitchen and family room with a breakfast nook tucked into the side. Where it faced the backyard, this section of the house was curved, with narrow windows lined next to each other, showing a panoramic view of Lake Washington.

  “Your place is nice.” There were probably better words I could have used, but it’s not like I knew anything about architecture. Besides, the frown on Julius’s face suggested he wouldn’t have appreciated my compliments anyway.

  “So, do you want to work in here?” Bethany asked. “Or go up to your room?”

  “We can go up to my room.”

  “Be polite, Julius.” Mrs. Hundstead marched to the cabinets. “Offer your friends a snack. We have Goldfish crackers. Carrot and dip in the fridge.”

  “I’m sure they aren’t hungry,” Julius said.

  Unfortunately, Bethany piped up at the same time. “Oh, good. I’m starving.”

  “Why don’t you ladies make a tray and bring it up?” Julius asked. “Henry and I can get started.”

  “Mrs. Hundstead isn’t your slave,” Bethany snapped.

  But Mrs. Hundstead patted her arm. “That’s okay, dear. I don’t mind. Would you like to help me? Or do you want to go upstairs with the boys?”

  Bethany narrowed her eyes, but I could tell that her appetite would win over her desire not to be relegated to the kitchen. “I’ll help Mrs. Hundstead.” Bethany stuck her nose in the air. “Be up in a second.”

  “Let’s go.” Julius strode out the door without saying thank you, which I guessed was to be expected.

  It was hard to believe that this was Julius’s actual house—the place where he woke up in the morning and where he did such mundane things as brushing his teeth or clipping his toenails. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to eat dinner at a dining table that sat twenty, or watch TV in a living room (which we passed through on the way to the stairs) with three couches, a fireplace you could climb inside, and a sunken Japanese koi pond.

  This was the kind of place you went on tours of, or saw in movies as the home of spies or leaders of drug cartels. Normal people who went to high school weren’t supposed to live in homes like this.

  “Gaudy, isn’t it? My parents entertain a lot.”

  “It’s really pretty.”

  “I like the living room off the kitchen better.”

  That I could understand. The little section of the house where we’d come in was far more cozy than the actual living room. The stairway put us on a walkway that hovered above the main area. Down one direction was Julius’s parents’ room; I could tell by the Asian artwork decorating that part of the hall.

  Down the other direction, the paintings on the wall were of cartoon monkeys and giraffes. Julius gestured at two doors. “This is me and my sister.” He pointed to the third door as we passed. “All this, and they didn’t give Natasha her own bathroom? Talk about poor planning.”

  He led me into a room painted an aggressive shade of blue. His sheets were blue, black, and gray, like they had been bought in the “boys” section of a department store. That made sense, since he had a bunk bed, with a twin suspended over a full-sized mattress.

  I had a clawing suspicion Julius’s parents had bought the bedroom set in his elementary school years in preparation for all the sleepovers he was bound to have. The top bunk’s sheets were several shades darker than the bottom one’s.

  Julius sat at his desk, which was a dark wood and matched his bed. “I didn’t get much off the phone. The TextNow number is impossible to trace, and it could have belonged to anyone. But the texts are intriguing.”

  I dropped awkwardly into a beanbag chair with Julius embroidered in the fabric. “What after-school activities do you do?” As interested as I was in the case, I was starting to wonder whether Julius had ever had friends over before.

  “Me?” He turned partway from his computer—which was a sweet 24-inch flat-screen Mac. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know.” I folded a leg under myself, trying to get comfortable. “I’m interested, I guess.”

  “I do cross-country in the fall and track in the spring. Though I prefer cross-country.” He tipped his head to the side.

  “Hello?” Bethany knocked. “This tray is heavy.”

  Julius didn’t seem inclined to get up, so I opened the door for her. Mrs. Hundstead had provided cookies, sandwiches, and an assortment of cut vegetables.

  “What are you guys up to?” Bethany set the tray down on top of a dresser.

  “Henry was quizzing me on my activities.” Julius returned his attention to the screen. He uploaded images of Hal’s phone and increased their size.

  “So those are Hal’s texts?” Bethany grabbed a plate and munched half of a sandwich as she got behind Julius.

  “Yes. As you can see, there are three messages to this number.” He pointed to a string of digits with a Seattle area code. “But it’s an untraceable line.”

  “That’s a problem. What do the texts say?”

  Julius pulled up another picture.

  Hey, it’s me. Are you there?

  Sorry about last night.

  Please answer? I miss you.

  Then came a response. I can’t talk to you anymore. Please don’t contact me again.

  Why? Hal had texted.

  Then What did I do wrong?

  Ten minutes later. You have to answer me!

  Finally, Fuck you.

  “Oh, wow,” Bethany said. “Ouch.”

  “Indeed.” Julius frowned. “Hal is clearly emotionally involved with whoever was using this number.”

  “Oh, you think, genius?” Bethany threw her hands up. “Figured that out all on your own?”

  Julius rolled his eyes. “Hal deleted the texts previous to these. I wonder if they’d be helpful. I’m sure they could be recovered if we had access to his home computer.”

  “I don’t see how we’d manage that.” Tired of sitting at knee level, I scrabbled out of the beanbag. “Was there anything interesting in his other texts? Anything suicidal?”

  “No. Just silly things about hating school and his parents and making plans to meet.” Julius scrolled to other shots, which showed exactly the kind of stupid conversations I passed back and forth with my own friends.

  “How about other apps?” I asked. “He could have been talking on Facebook or Twitter or Google messaging. Skype . . .”

  “I wondered that,” Julius clicked to another picture, which showed the front of Hal’s phone screen. Hal had grouped his apps, which meant all of them were in miniature. Despite Julius enlarging the picture, the icons were still hard to identify. “I didn’t have time to open each application. Anyway, many of these people might communicate via code names.”

  I smirked, because Julius made messaging sound a lot more nefarious than it was. “You mean usernames?”

  Julius shot me an indignant glare. “Code names, usernames. Same thing.”

  “Hmm. So we don’t know who he was texting, but they were probably dating.” Bethany pointed. “Did you search his pictures?”

  “Of course I did.” Julius clicked onto a new picture, this one showing a screen full of tiny images. He’d shot multiple images rather than one at a time. It made sense given that he’d been in a rush, but it was hard to make out any detail now.

  “I ran each of these through a sharpening program, but I’m not sure how much difference it’s made. They’re all of Hal and his friends trying to seem popular.”

  I was surprised at the venom in Julius’s voice, especially since I would never guess that Julius cared about Clinton Academy’s who’s who.

  “I’ve noted the names of every Clinton Academy student in these shots and how many times they appeared, but it’s impossible to tell by mere frequency who the culprit is. Some people simply like to be in pictures.”

  Bethany screwed her face up in confusion. “Culprit? I’d thought we were looking for a girlfriend.”

  “Possibly. But I doubt this was a simple lovers’ q
uarrel.” Julius pressed a button, and the printer whirred to life. “Someone pushed Hal to do what he did. I’m not sure why or how, but Hal didn’t come up with the idea alone.”

  “Why would you think that?” I asked.

  “Seriously, Henry? You too? I would have thought you had more brains, considering you got in on a scholarship.”

  “Hey,” Bethany snapped with enough outrage for the both of us. “Where do you get off?”

  I sucked on the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t show how much Julius’s comment had hurt.

  Julius pushed out of his chair to pace the room. “Look at those pictures. Seriously.”

  Leaning in, I scanned them for details. Every one showed Hal with friends. At a restaurant, a party, some near the water. “Okay, fine. Hal seems happy enough from these, but we don’t really know, do we? He could have been depressed.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Julius slashed the air with his hand. “Hal? What can we tell about him from these pictures?”

  “That he has a lot of friends.” Bethany cocked her eyebrows.

  “Give me your phone.” Julius held his hand out to her.

  “No way.” She clutched her pocket protectively.

  “Fine, then.” Julius turned to me. “Yours.”

  I didn’t want to hand it over, but as far as I knew I hadn’t left anything too embarrassing on it. “Fine.” I dug it out of my backpack.

  “Good God, Henry. How old is this thing?” Julius wrinkled his nose. “Does it even have a camera?”

  I didn’t bother answering. There was no use trying to teach tact to someone as full of himself as Julius. I waited as he searched through my phone.

  “Here.” He held the phone screen up for us to see. It showed a picture of me, grinning on an airplane. That had been the last picture I’d taken in Texas, and I’d sent it to my best friend, Sophie. “So?”

  Julius dropped his head back to sigh at the ceiling. “I wonder what it’s like to be dumb. It must be soothing.”

  I gritted my teeth, getting fed up with Julius’s dramatics. “And?”

  “What’s this a picture of?” Julius shook the phone.

  “Me on an airplane.”