He catches on quickly. “Oh yeah. Let’s do that.”
Luckily, the Prancing Goat Cafe is busy enough for our conversation to be anonymous. And if the tail sees that this is just a random, class thing, hopefully this kid won’t get caught in our mess. We both get drinks, and I claim a table in a busy back corner, leaving the tail to sit by the front door. Finally safe enough, I hold out my hand. “Who are you? And how did you end up involved?”
He doesn’t get that I’m asking for the note, instead taking my palm in a well-trained firm handshake. “I’m Jonah, and I’m in marketing with Clara. We were also in business law last year. I’ve had a bunch of classes over the years with Trips, as we’re both finance majors.” He fiddles with his cup, looking around the restaurant in a frustratingly obvious way.
“We’re here working on a project, so keep your focus on me,” I say, a harsh note in my voice that I’m usually better at moderating.
“Oh, right.” He stares down at his cup instead, which isn’t really an improvement, but not everybody can act. As we found with both Jansen and Trips this summer. “So, are you?” he asks, peeking up at me.
“Am I what?”
“A spy?”
I huff out half a laugh. “No. I’m not a spy, and I pray to God that’s not a job I’m ever forced into.”
“Then what’s with all the subterfuge?” He tears the sleeve off his cup. “I looked at the note. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I dropped it, and it unfolded, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Clara has scary-looking guards who don’t want her talking to anybody. I don’t know if it was her who did it, but there was this whole mess with a phone going off in class,and that’s when she asked me to bring you the note. It’s just that it all seems like a lot. Why couldn’t she bring you the note herself? Or call or text or really anything less crazy? My girlfriend’s half afraid I’m going to get hurt, but I’m only delivering a note, right? I’m not in any danger?”
Once this guy gets going, he can’t seem to stop. “You’re not in danger. But would you be willing to take a note or two to Clara over the course of the semester?”
“Like a courier?”
“Yeah. You’d have to keep the guard from seeing, but Clara can handle the rest.”
He tears the coffee sleeve into short strips. “I can do that. Only if you promise there’s no danger.”
“You’ll be fine.”
He finally takes a sip, staring off to the side. “You didn’t say Clara would be fine.”
“She isn’t fine. This wouldn’t change that for her.”
“Is she in danger?”
I take a sip of my drink, wanting to lie, but I’m so sick of it. I’ve spent so long pretending, hiding, wearing masks, that it should get easier. Instead, every day the lies get heavier, and I’m too exhausted taking care of RJ and Jansen to lift them anymore. “Yeah, she is. But we’re working on getting her out of it.”
“Is it Trips?” A cloud comes over the guy’s face, and his reaction confirms that he’s an okay dude, a normal guy with a conscience.
I shake my head. “No, Trips is in the same situation as Clara. Can I have the note now?”
“Wait, which one are you? Walker or RJ?” He hands me a loosely folded piece of notebook paper, and I flip it open to see Clara’s scrolling script on the page, the blue pen bleeding through the back where she hesitated to draw the next character.
I fold it up, and when the tail takes a sip of his coffee, I pocket it. “I’m Walker. And thanks. I know this has to seem really weird.”
“We should exchange phone numbers for the next note,” Jonah says, sliding his phone across to me. After a moment of hesitation, I give him my IRC codename instead of my phone number, with a link to where to log into the system.
I slide it back to him. “This is safer. Our phones are being monitored.”
“Seriously? Is that why we’re at a coffee shop?”
“We’re in a coffee shop because I’ve got a tail. They’re looking for another of our roommates, and they keep hoping we’ll slip up. But they’re not that stealthy, and we’ve had practice losing a tail.”
He chuckles. “I don’t believe you.”
The fuck? The guy’s right across the room.
My confusion must be easy to read. “You are all totally spies. And now I’m a spy by proxy. This shit is awesome. I can’t wait to tell Callie.”
I shake my head at his excitement. Was it really only a year ago that I felt that kind of excitement when we got ready for a job? Was it really only a year ago that we were strictly white collar, and this shit wasn’t dangerous?
