Tom
The comfort of home felt almost like a betrayal as Tom lay back on his bed, having left Kat to clean up his mess at work.
Mess. That’s all I’m good for.
He didn’t have to look around his bedroom to remind himself of the state it was in. Heaps of clothes hiding further heaps of comics. Shades drawn over smudged windows, keeping the sun at bay, lest it encourage whatever he could smell growing in his garbage can.
But somehow, the mess at work was worse.
Bradley was never that pissy, and then Kat and Lucy had to put up with him all day. What would he do if this was the new tone at work? What if Bradley fired him…
I’d be forced to actually do something with my life.
Was that a blessing in disguise? Could it be the push he needed to change for the better?
Or maybe there was another option.
He rolled onto his side and stared at his backpack, propped up against the wall.
It was in there, and maybe if he could figure out what it all meant…maybe he could prove something to her.
He remembered that look, the one from the diner. The judgment, the honest revulsion in her face.
If he could help her, maybe…
Maybe she’ll never look at me like that again.
He pulled his knees up and reflexively wrapped his arms across his chest, a shudder of self-doubt overtaking him.
Then, as if responding to the recoiling energy, his phone buzzed beside him.
A glimmer of hope, a sudden exhale of excitement.
Is it her?
But no…it was an unknown number.
Tom unlocked the phone, recoiling from the sudden blast of light.
“Hello, Tom.”
Squinting back at the glowing message, Tom typed back:
“Sorry, I’m not sure who this is.”
“You never were very quick. I’ll give you three questions to figure it out.”
Tom sighed and rolled onto his back.
“Listen, I’m sorry if I lost your number. Please, just tell me your name.”
There was no response.
“Fine,” Tom continued, “were we friends at school?”
“Close, but no.”
That didn’t help much. But it probably was someone he knew from school.
He checked his contacts, Lucy was there. He hadn’t forgotten to label her number…but he hadn’t been as kind to many of the other girls he knew.
He swallowed what remained of his pride.
“Was I an asshole to you?” he asked, dreading the answer.
“Surely that wouldn’t narrow it down for you.”
Tom rolled his eyes.
“True,” Tom typed, “But you didn’t answer the question.”
“Sometimes, but you mostly just ignored me.”
No…it can’t be.
“Rodney?”
“And you got it before the buzzer. You deserve a prize.”
Something was being transferred… too much data to be another text…
A picture.
Tom opened it.
It was a picture of him entering the storage locker.
“Have you been following me?” Tom asked, already knowing the answer.
“That’s quaint considering what you’ve been up to. Learn anything interesting?”
“Rodney, can we just meet in person? Everyone is worried about you, and the police are looking for you.”
“No, they aren’t,” Rodney responded, not missing a beat. “The police gave up immediately, and everyone else just moved on.” There was a long pause before he started typing again. “But that’s ok. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Please, Rodney, you aren’t well. Let me help you.”
“How could I trust someone who stole from me?”
Tom could practically feel the book across the room. Rough leather, inexplicably wet like hot, sweating skin.
“What did you find inside of it?” Rodney continued. “Or is it all just words to you?”
Tom hesitated.
“Oh, that’s precious,” Rodney said, the text carrying every ounce of disdain. “You were too afraid to open it.”
“Forget the book, Rodney. What are you doing? Why are you stalking Sophie?”
“Wow, you don’t understand any of it.”
Another file started downloading.
“All this time, and you’re still completely in the dark.”
Tom opened the file.
It was a picture of Kat…through the front window of the convenience store.
“You took something of mine. Now, I’m going to take something of yours.”
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