by C. L. Stone
I understood it, and perhaps I’d known for a while. A hug, a light kiss, a held hand, these I could frequently share in front of most of them without any jealous looks or concerns.
If it was anything much more, and they took on a look of envy. And I didn’t like that.
Dr. Green got between the covers and spread his arms and legs out. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate just being able to do this. In an actual bed.”
When I got under the covers, I gave him some space, and he reached out and held my hand. He beamed at me.
“I’ll still cuddle, just give me some back-against-the-bed time.”
“Will you ever get time off?”
“Tonight,” he said. “And tomorrow when I should be at the school for at least half the day. I still have a class to teach, remember?”
“I’ll probably never really learn Japanese now. We’re not in class.”
“It’s okay, I can send you a learn to speak Japanese language course you can listen to when you’re driving.”
“I haven’t learned to drive yet.”
“Remind me to teach you.”
“You know what bugs me?” Nathan’s voice floated to us through the wall before he opened the door and stepped out. “Victor never really got a good birthday. It’s been bugging me since yesterday. We all kinda screwed up.”
Dr. Green sat up a bit in the bed and combed his fingers through his hair, brushing some of the locks aside. “Maybe we can make it up to him. Funny enough, I might have something. I actually got him tickets to a concert happening this week. I was supposed to give them to him... before disaster struck.”
“I thought he didn’t like concerts,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, he loves music. And concerts. Especially if he doesn’t know the band and doesn’t know what to expect. He likes going in surprised. It’s his own concerts he doesn’t like.”
“I think he likes those, too,” Nathan said. “He just doesn’t like his parents making him do things.”
Dr. Green frowned a bit. “Then that’s a shame. If he doesn’t make things right with his parents, he’ll probably never be able to play publicly again.”
“He could do it on his own,” Nathan said. He turned the light off, casting the room into the dark. He crossed the room, and shifted a chair next to the window, prepping himself to be able to watch out the window, and set his phone on the table. “Couldn’t there be some charity concerts he could do?”
“Maybe some smaller communities would love it, but anything around Charleston is usually done within the same circles, and they won’t want Victor if they worry he’ll drink and tell off the audience.”
I grimaced. “He didn’t mean it,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter what he meant,” he said. “It’s what they saw and heard about in the news. He’d need support from people like his parents who would vouch for him that it was an accident and won’t happen again.” He settled into the bed again, reaching once more for my hand to hold under the blanket, where Nathan wouldn’t really see. He squeezed my hand gently. “He’ll figure it out. He just needs time.”
I couldn’t help but think about Victor. Dr. Green eventually drifted off to sleep and Nathan kept himself awake with a phone game. I stayed awake for a little while, watching Nathan, the glow of the moon through the window on his bare torso.
But my mind couldn’t help but wonder if Victor might eventually be happy. He couldn’t be his own person with his parents, but splitting from them, it was like part of who he was had completely been taken away from him too.
Rubato
(Stolen, robbed)
Victor
“Where are we going?” Victor asked Mr. Buble. They had gotten into the car, and Victor put on his seatbelt.
Mr. Buble had changed clothes from earlier that day, except it was a fresh pair of black slacks, a newly pressed white shirt. Maybe no one else would have noticed, save Victor who knew that after a full day, one would have some creases and wrinkles in any suit. “We’re going back to provide at-a-distance support. As none of the family are at home and we need someone around to answer any pertinent questions, someone who has access to cameras for example, immediately on site.”
It made sense. If everyone, including Mr. Blackbourne, were away, they might need someone there to help.
“But are you sure you’re up for this?” Mr. Buble asked. “It’ll be a long night and you haven’t slept.”
“I’m good for a while,” Victor said, and he was pretty sure he was. His blood was pumping with excitement. He shouldn’t be so eager and knew better to get sleep and allow others to try to manage things, but right now he was full of a second wind. Maybe the short car ride allowed him to rest enough to provide him with a bit more energy to stay awake.
Or maybe it was Sang... and how he’d been with her tonight. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. The soft touch of her skin...
He blinked rapidly to pull himself out of those thoughts. “If I need to, a quick coffee ought to help in a couple hours.”
This time when Mr. Buble drove, he took the highway instead of side roads he’d taken the first time, undoubtedly because the first drive to the motel was designed to shake off any possible tail.
When they got back to the neighborhood, Mr. Buble immediately pulled into the parking lot for Bob’s Diner at the start of Sunnyvale Court. The parking lot was empty save for a couple of cars.
As they got out of the car, Victor was surprised to see Uncle at the door of the diner, holding it open and looking out toward them.
Mr. Buble greeting him with a nod as they approached. “Just us?”
“Just us loonies in this bin,” Uncle said, his gravelly voice dripping with tiredness, matching the dark circles under his eyes. He’d probably been here the whole day and stayed late. “My nephews okay?”
“They’re safe at a hotel, and together.”
They entered the diner and Uncle closed the door behind them. “This Volto kid’s a menace.”
“Is anyone at the Griffin house now?” Mr. Buble asked.
“We waited for you.”
In the diner, there was a woman, someone Victor felt was familiar but he didn’t know personally, and a male police officer he did know.
“David,” Victor said, holding out a hand to the police officer in offering.
David was tall, trim, and with a mop of tight curls at the top of his head. He’d been at several of the Morgan family events as added city security and more recently, heavily involved with them as he was an associate of an outside Academy consultant. He was there in handling the old principal and vice-principal at the school not long ago.
David beamed and shook his hand vigorously. “Hey, friend. How you doin’? Heard there was a little scuffle here.”
“So far just some broken security cameras, unless something else has happened,” he said. He turned to the woman. She was tall, with wide hips and an upturned, calming smile. “Hello.”
She nodded to him. “Mrs. Ruiz. Happy to help.”
It wasn’t often Victor got to work with a group of adults. He wasn’t supposed to feel intimidated, given everyone within the Academy had a voice and could speak when they felt the need. It was just getting used to the idea that took time. Where was he to start?
“Is a plan in place?” Mr. Buble asked.
“Well, as my plan is to not to get anyone hurt,” David said, taking the lead, “Mrs. Ruiz, Uncle, and I are going to drive up, very noisily. I’ll knock on the door, ring the bell, and we’ll go in and turn on all the lights. If you’ll follow us on any security cameras still active... I hear there are probably a few inside the house still going. Can you double-check they’re working?”
Victor used his phone and tapped Nathan’s hand weight icon and toggled to get to the cameras. The outside ones were static, as were two inside ones, in the main rooms.
Some inside cameras were still on, although most rooms were very dark. These didn’t have night vision
of any sort, so it was just blackness.
“I’ve a few,” Victor told them. “Main rooms are out, bedrooms and hallways are fine. I don’t see anyone in the operating cameras.”
“We’ll be able to see in on those bigger areas through the windows,” Uncle said.
“Just have to stick together,” David said.
Uncle, Mrs. Ruiz, and David left, and Mr. Buble and Victor remained behind. The diner itself was tidy. The counters were clean, a pot of coffee left to warm, but otherwise, booths and tables were clear of everything but condiments.
Mr. Buble got behind the counter, found an apron with a front that said Bob’s Diner, and put it on.
Victor chuckled. “What are you doing?”
“If someone comes in here, I’ll take their order.”
It was hard for Victor to picture Mr. Buble simply taking over waiter duty at such a moment. Victor shook his head and then thought better of it and got behind the counter. It was probably best.
Victor kept the phone open and waited, switching between cameras to keep an eye on things.
Mr. Buble absently picked up a rag sitting below the counter and started wiping at the register, particularly the crannies. “By the way, I was meaning to ask, when I arrived at the house, you and Miss Sorenson... is there something I should know about?”
Victor grimaced. He was waiting for this question to pop up. “We weren’t doing anything...”
“Normally when teenagers are put in my charge, I need to have at least an initial conversation, a general health lecture.”
“I’ve had that,” Victor said, his cheeks burning. He refused to look at him. What should he say? He couldn’t lie about it.
Mr. Buble stopped what he was doing and looked at him. “I hope you’re not promising things you can’t fulfill? Not taking it serious if she is taking things seriously?”
The tone in his statement shocked Victor, and he stood up fully. “I would never.”
“Only, you hesitate to tell me, which makes me feel there’s something more to it.” His brown eyes took on a sternness he hadn’t witness from him before. “I work with no one but the most honorable. I hope you to be.”
“I would never hurt her,” Victor said vigorously. “She’d tell you.”
Mr. Buble pursed his lips for a moment, as if considering. “Please understand my asking. She’s under my charge, too. I need to know. After I dropped you off, I checked the newspapers and other sources to see what might be done for your reputation around the city, since Mitch seemed to indicate it said a lot about you. It was clearly stating that you and a Miss Brie were dating, not Miss Sang.”
A surge of anger radiated through Victor. “What?”
“There were photos. You and her. Where she has an arm around your waist.”
Victor shook his head again, struggling to remember the night before. “I... She... We sort of thought I could help her with her parents and she could help me with my parents. Part of the act we put on was that we were maybe interested in each other. It appeased my parents... at least until I stopped trying to appease them.”
Mr. Buble waited, as if he wasn’t sure he should trust Victor.
“Sang and I are dating, okay?” He didn’t say anything about the others, unsure he’d even understand that, but they’d been caught together in bed and he had to say something, had to prove somehow he wasn’t lying to Sang or Brie. He had to defend himself, and her. “Brie and I weren’t doing anything. Just talking and she was doing her best to help me at my asking. And in a way, I was helping her.” He paused and then just be sure, “Brie’s gay. Her parents... I don’t think they approve. We thought if we pretended to be interested in each other, our parents could lay off our backs for a while, at least until we were old enough to move on.” It hurt him to have Mr. Buble think he’d do anything to hurt anyone. “I had no idea there would be photos and articles about it.”
At Victor’s persistence, Mr. Buble’s stern look softened. He picked the rag back up and proceeded with his cleaning. “I’m afraid I do have to ask Miss Sang. Not that I don’t believe you, but because it’s part of my duty to her.”
Victor nodded, worried though. What happened if she admitted the whole relationship with the other guys?
Should he tell him?
“Is it inappropriate that she dates... one of us?” Victor asked tentatively.
“It’s likely inevitable, really,” Mr. Buble said. “Nine perfectly talented young men and one very capable and also talented young woman... however, we need to remember our age, and our long-term goals. I’d hope if anything happened to your relationship, you’ll still stay professional if needing to work with her in the future.”
It was something he’d heard would be discussed if any of them dated within the Academy at all.
Is that all they worried about? If something should happen and there’s a breakup, that it might be impossible to work together?
Suddenly his understanding of relationships in the Academy and how it was handled... it all changed with the way Mr. Buble presented it. Would it really matter, if they could prove that they could get along and get Academy jobs done without personal feelings in the way? Especially, heaven forbid, if she did call things off with any of them and they still needed to work with her?
If they could prove somehow they could... even if they fully intended to stay together...
After a few minutes, Mr. Buble got a phone call and leaned over the counter, checking out Victor’s phone with the cameras still running. “We’re here. We’re ready.”
Victor was nervous, even if he wasn’t the one to enter Nathan’s house. What if they caught him? Would this be over tonight?
If this was Volto, he was tricky, but they’d been gone for a while, so it was less likely he’d be interested in sticking around if there was no one there to mess with. It wasn’t his style. Unless he was setting up some traps. But taking out the cameras was a pretty bold move. It’d be really obvious they’d check the place out completely.
“They’re going in,” Mr. Buble said to him.
It didn’t take long. It was clear lights were coming on in the house and then in rooms where Victor had camera access. He monitored on the screens where David took the lead in each room, checking out the situation, with Uncle behind him.
Mrs. Ruiz followed up, checking under beds and behind things, but generally, they kept together, worked together through each room.
“No one’s in the house,” Mr. Buble relayed. “Checking the attic space and the yard.”
“There’s a shed out back. It should be unlocked, but there’s a window in the back too they can see in if they want. And a back gate at the fence behind it.”
Mr. Buble nodded and relayed the information.
It was several more long minutes before they let Mr. Buble know the house and outside seemed to be clear.
Still, they waited until Uncle was back.
“How was everything?” Mr. Buble asked, taking off the apron. No one had arrived during the few minutes it took to search the house.
“Boring,” he said. “No one to tackle. Place is a mess though.”
Victor was shocked. “What? In the cameras...”
Uncle nodded. “Check the office. And the bedrooms.”
Victor had followed them on the cameras but it was dark and suddenly they were inside but he’d not paid attention to the background. He’d been so anxious looking out for a shadow, a white mask, anything...
Now he looked, and there had been obvious rummaging through stuff. The office had a nearly clear desk. Where was Mr. Griffin’s computer?
Uh oh.
“We’ll go look,” Mr. Buble said, and hurried Victor out.
Before they left the parking lot in Mr. Buble’s car, he got a call and answered. He was silent for a moment as he listened.
“I understand,” he said into the phone. “We’ll be sure to look.” He hung up.
“Something happen?” Victor asked, anticipating they’d
caught Volto or something worse... they’d been attacked by Volto and were in trouble.
“It appears Miss Sorenson and the young Mr. Griffin neglected to tell us what transpired today.” He then told Victor about how Nathan and Sang had kept the secret of the mask, the mask was at Nathan’s house, and how they’d also had a suspect in mind, Erica, and had left her copied hard drive at the house.
Victor sat back, heart sunk at the news. “They can’t be serious. Erica? Of all people?”
Mr. Buble put the car into drive and started the short journey to Nathan’s house. “This might make things more complicated with this police officer.”
“Should we tell him?”
“Let’s play it by ear, however, it could be that’s what Volto was after, perhaps the person wanted the mask back.”
If Volto had left it behind, accident or not, he’d likely want to get it back if there were any clues in the mask itself that could lead them to him.
Around the block, every other house was still dark, the people inside likely still sleeping. Nathan’s house was lit up inside and out. The garage door was closed. From the outside, it just appeared whoever was inside had risen very early for a normal day.
The inside of the house was in explosive disarray. The boxes Nathan and Sang had spent time together to put in the living room, half of them appeared missing and the others were open, scattered all over the floor.
Victor’s very expensive trunk and his two large bags, all of which were still filled with everything he’d kept from his parents’ home, were also missing.
Along with anything that could be deemed valuable. Including a safe that was inside Mr. Griffin’s closet that everyone was always very careful to stay away from. In fact, the whole safe was gone, ripped right out of the wall.
“I just find it strange that the cameras were knocked out, and we left, and then the theft happened,” Victor said. “Wouldn’t us waking up and scrambling around have put them off?”
