“What exactly are you looking for?” I ask.
“Files,” he says. “Employee files, parent files, whatever you can find. Something I can research.”
“I don’t understand,” I say. “Where would I even get that sort of thing?”
“Maybe this analyst,” he suggests. “He probably has everything in his office.”
“I don’t think I could do that,” I say, scared. He wants me to break in to my analyst’s office? That’s... That’s too much. I couldn’t disobey the rules like that.
“Then just keep your eyes open,” Jackson says. I’m surprised when he reaches over to smooth down the edge of the Band-Aid on my hand that’s come unstuck. “Notice anything out of the ordinary.”
At his soft touch, I long for him to look at me again, the way he did that first time. I want to watch the words die on his lips when his eyes meet mine. I want him to like me. But right now, I can’t read how he feels. It’s not obvious, and I can’t bring myself to ask, scared of the answer.
Instead, I opt to tell him about the poems. But the moment I open my mouth, there is the sound of a metal door slamming shut.
I quickly turn and look toward the school, alarmed when I see Guardian Bose out on the track. The girls are jogging on the other side of the building, but when they come around, he’ll see that I’m not with them.
Scared, I get to my feet. Jackson stands up too, his jaw tightening when he sees the Guardian. When he turns back to me, his expression is pleading for me to run away.
To my relief, the Guardian seems frustrated and goes back inside, as if he doesn’t have the time to wait for the girls. I sigh, my hand on my chest.
“I have to go,” I say.
Jackson stares down at me, impatient. “Mena,” he whispers, pained. But when I walk to the fence, he doesn’t try to stop me.
I decide that I’m going to look for evidence, just like in the movies that the Guardian lets us watch. If I find anything, I’ll pass it along to Jackson. What he’ll do with that information afterward, I’m not sure. But he’s made it sound like it’ll help us.
“Please be careful,” Jackson says.
I smile and promise him that I will. I let him know that I’ll be running again on Tuesday.
“That’s funny,” he says. “I’ll happen to be skulking around these woods early that morning. Should we meet?”
Before I answer, he snaps his fingers. “Hold on,” he says, darting over to his backpack. He returns with a small piece of paper.
“I wrote down my number,” he says. “Call me later and let me know that you’re all right.”
I take the paper and stare down at the number. “I’ll try,” I say. “And... my friend?” I look up hopeful. “Her last name is Scholar,” I say. “And her mother’s name is Diane.”
“Lennon Rose Scholar,” Jackson says, nodding. “Got it. I’ll find her. She has to be somewhere.”
We get to the cracked part of the fence, and I turn to him before I slide through.
“Thank you,” I say. “For helping me.”
He bottom lip tightens before he smiles, a gorgeous smile that I think is meant to charm me. And it does. But I notice that it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he seems sad. He seems lonely.
He murmurs goodbye as I slip through the fence.
As soon as he’s gone, I pull off the Band-Aid he’d given me, seeing the red scratch still on my hand. And I decide not to the tell the doctor about it, to leave it as a memory instead.
15
When the girls round the building for the last time, I slip out from behind the bush and fall into step next to Sydney. She examines me, her nose red from the cold, her eyes shiny.
“How’d it go?” she asks between heavy breaths.
“I have so much to tell you,” I say, darting my eyes around.
