“Wait up,” Caylon calls from behind me. “Missed you at the game.”
“Because you weren’t there,” I mutter, hands on hips. “You want a lift?”
“If you don’t mind.” He shoots me a sideways glance. “Zach wants to talk to us about something.”
“Then he should’ve come to practice like he’s meant to.” I still turn the car toward his house, not riled enough to miss out on whatever pearls of wisdom he sees fit to dispense. “Hey, you’re good at tracking people, right?”
My frustration needs a new outlet and, as it has done a dozen times since the night of my party, my thoughts drift back to the nameless girl in my dad’s study. The one who might be able to produce the video I want, if only I can trace her, proposition her, and offer her so much money she can’t refuse.
“Sure,” Caylon quips back at me. “I type names into this thing called a search engine—”
“Funny guy. What’d you do if you don’t have a name?”
“Reverse image search.”
I wait until we’re stopped at the next set of lights to toss him my phone. “Can you get anything from that?”
He watches it through, then rewinds, screenshotting a few images and bumping it over to his device. “It’s not great quality but maybe. You know anything else about her?”
I wobble my hand in midair. “She’s around our age and she might work as a prostitute.”
“Right.”
“Just to pay for uni.” I don’t even know why I add the clarification. Pretty sure Caylon doesn’t give a flying fuck.
“Yeah. Like you know you can just use the red pages if you’re desperate. Or try drinking when you’re at Stefan’s club and see what you attract.”
“I have a hard enough time getting my macros balanced without adding alcohol to the mix.” I take the next turn, flipping the bird at the impatient driver who might have had the right of way if he wasn’t too slow. “Does that mean you can’t do it?”
“Maybe. How’d you come across this unnamed female?”
“She was at my party on Saturday.” I hesitate before adding, “She might know Able Comers and Eric Vallance.”
Caylon turns his lazy gaze back my way, lips creasing with amusement. “Oh, she might. Might she? Has it occurred to you simply to ask them directly? You’re better acquainted with those tools than I am.”
I clear my throat and flex my hand, showcasing the array of bruises across my knuckles, as colourful as any autumnal display. “We had a slight difference of opinion.”
“Must’ve been pretty bad to get you riled.” He shakes his head, turning to stare blankly out the side window.
His face, the same face I’ve been around since we were in primary school, loses all expression. It’s been doing it more and more often lately.
Or maybe I’m just noticing more since the stuff with Robbie went down. Noticing, because I’m checking for cracks in my two closest friends to mirror what I’m feeling. Hopeful I’m not the only one whose nights are ruined with a constant play-by-play of the same few seconds of the same night until I want to tear the world apart with my teeth and bare hands.
“I’ll ask. When do you need it by?”
“No hurry.”
He gives me a strange glance; one I can’t decipher. Then I run out of time to interpret it, anyway, pulling up at Zach’s gate and punching in the access code.
Inside, the housekeeper Zelda is wiping the counters in the kitchen and jerks her chin upstairs at Caylon’s query. I lag behind him, my hands shaking for no good reason. A surfeit of adrenaline that didn’t get used up in the game, perhaps. Maybe just someone walking over my grave.
“Lilac Tanner turned up at school today,” Zach announces when we’re both in his bedroom. “She’s agreed to complete five tasks—”
“No,” Caylon says in his flattest tone.
“I’ve already negotiated.”
“Then do it again and do it better. She’s meant to stay away. That was the arrangement.”
