I turn to see Lyle, the boy from my first hour who spoke up during our lesson, approaching. He looks concerned as he holds out a huge stack of napkins. I take a few to clean myself up, and he tosses the rest onto the spilled milk.
I’m not sure about him at first, but he asks Sydney if she’s okay, and I decide that he’s genuine. After all, his mother protested the Essential Women’s Act.
“I’m good,” Sydney says, sounding wary.
Lyle looks at my uniform and winces. He turns back to the boys who watch with interest from their table. Lyle is pale withcurly dark hair that he continually tries to tuck behind his ears.
“Those guys can be real assholes,” he says, wiping up the milk on my seat. “I apologize on their behalf.” He offers a small smile, and I thank him for his help.
After he cleans the milk, he tosses the napkins into the trash and returns to our table.
“Do you … Do you mind if I sit with you?” he asks.
I check with Sydney first. It will mean adjusting our conversation, but at the same time … Lyle will have insight into the boys at this school. We might be able to get some clues that can lead us to the son of the investor. Sydney nods.
“Sure,” I tell Lyle. “Join us.”
“Much appreciated.” He sits down and folds his hands in his lap.
He seems nice, just a little awkward. Something about his mannerisms, his deep but cracking tone of voice, makes him stand out. I’m not sure that’s something the average high school student wants—at least that’s what Marcella has told us. I’ve seen Adrian spend her day trying not to draw attention.
Garrett seemed annoyed with Lyle in class, and I wonder if they clash regularly, or if Lyle stays out of his orbit. I debate asking, but ultimately decide to keep things light to build trust.
“That was cool what you said in history class,” I tell him. “About your mom.”
He shrugs. “Thanks, but I didn’t do anything,” he says. “My mother’s the strong one. Well, she’s the only one.”
“What do you mean?” Sydney asks.
“My dad left. Back when the protests were going on,” he says. “He, um, he liked the new laws. The changes. My mom is a lawyer and he felt … inadequate, I guess. But, yeah. When things went back to normal, my mom didn’t want him home.” Lyle licks his chapped lips. “She said he could never really change.”
Sydney knocks her knee into mine. I glance sideways at her, and I think we both realize … Lyle’s dad could be the investor. He supported the subjugation of human women—is it that far off that he’d put that malice toward artificial ones?
“Is your dad still around?” Sydney asks. Lyle grimaces, put out by the question. Sydney flashes an apologetic smile. “My dad left too,” she lies. “I get it.”
“My dad’s around,” Lyle says, lowering his eyes. “But I never talk to him. He kind of hates us all. He has a new wife. New family. He told me he upgraded.”
Wow. Lyle’s dad sounds like absolute garbage, and it gives him a high “punch potential,” as Annalise would say. Now we just need to figure out if he might be laundering money through the school. I make a mental note to see if Marcella can find out who he is.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Sydney says to Lyle. When he looks at her again, he’s softened. I think he likes her attention, and that’s something we can use to get information.
“Do you have siblings?” I ask, leaning toward him.
“I have two brothers and two sisters,” he says.
I gasp. “That many?”
He laughs. “Yeah. They’re all younger, but yeah. There’s a lot of us.”
“That’s awesome,” I say.
“Only child?” Lyle asks.
I nod, disappointed. I realize that disappointment is left over from when I thought I was a regular girl at the academy. Now I know why I don’t have any biological brothers and sisters.
“But Sydney’s like my sister,” I say. She reaches her fingers out to me and I quickly take them. But there’s a flash in her eyes—she can feel it too. We’re getting somewhere with this conversation.
“Do your siblings attend Ridgeview Prep?” Sydney asks, letting my hand fall away.
