Investigating Julius Drake

by daisy harris

  “Yes. You.” His cheeks were pink from excitement.

  “So?”

  “I’m sure Bethany’s phone has all sorts of embarrassing and vain selfies on hers, too.”

  Bethany snarled. Like me, she was clearly done getting offended and had fallen back on simple annoyance. “People take selfies. What’s your point?”

  “Where are Hal’s selfies?” Julius gestured wildly at his screen.

  I leaned forward, scanning the pictures one by one, and next to me Bethany did the same. Julius had five screens full of shots. At least a hundred pictures total. None were just Hal.

  “Maybe he deleted them?”

  “Have you seen the idiocy in these pictures? Hal doesn’t delete anything.”

  As infuriating as Julius was being, he was right. Some of the pictures were awful.

  “Hal doesn’t exist on his own. He sees himself as an entirely social creature. Someone like that doesn’t act alone, doesn’t think alone. No wonder he botched his suicide attempt. If these pictures are to be believed, that was the first independent action he’d attempted in months.”

  “Okay . . .” Bethany breathed deeply, a counterpoint to how Julius was practically hyperventilating. “If your theory holds true, this is the closest thing to a selfie he has. See? Only two people in the shot.”

  The picture showed Hal with a pretty, blonde girl and he was kissing her cheek. They were at a party, with several other people in the background. Other than one girl giving the finger as a photobomb, Hal and the blonde were the only subjects.

  “Hal could have been dating her. Or had a crush on her.” Bethany’s eyebrows crinkled behind her glasses. “She’s the only girl he seems to be flirting with.”

  “Good point. Who is that?” Julius asked Bethany, as if being a girl meant Bethany would know all the others.

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t go to our school.”

  “She doesn’t?” Julius practically shoved Bethany out of the way in his hurry to get in front of the computer again.

  “No. None of the people in these few shots do besides Hal.” Bethany ran her finger along a series of three pictures. “I guess Hal went to a party at some other high school. Maybe that’s where he met her.”

  “Not some other high school.” Julius clicked on the sweatshirt of one of the guys in the background, enlarging the logo. “Nathan Hale.”

  “Yeah. Still . . .” Bethany went to the snack tray to grab more food. “That doesn’t narrow it down much. Aren’t there a few thousand people at that school? The chances of finding that girl are—”

  “Our chances are zero with that attitude.” Julius snatched a carrot out of her hand and pointed it at her. “This weekend we’ll go to their library and look through their yearbooks. If she goes to Nathan Hale, we’ll find her.”

  Two days later, I went to meet Julius in front of Nathan Hale High School. Though I was excited to work on the case, there were few things as embarrassing as being dropped off for a covert mission by your mom.

  “Is that your friend?” My mother rolled down the window.

  Julius was standing in front of the massive concrete building, looking very Julius-like in his black jacket and matching black T-shirt and jeans.

  “Yeah, he’s my friend. Why?” I dared her to comment.

  “He seems . . . interesting.” She tilted her head as she studied him. “Maybe you could invite him over sometime?”

  I tried to imagine Julius, who had an indoor koi pond, searching for a place to sit in our living room. “Yeah. Maybe. You know, he lives in our neighborhood.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Well . . .” I opened the car door, hoping that Julius would take the hint and come say hello.

  Of course, Julius did no such thing.

  “I’ll see you later. Around six?”

  “How are you getting home again?”

  “Julius’s nanny will— I mean, his mom is going to pick us up.” I knew my mother. She’d trust another parent to the ends of the earth, but babysitters were suspect.

  “His mother and I should trade numbers.”

  “Mom?” I lowered my voice warningly. “Please don’t turn overprotective.”

  “Fine.” She sighed. “Have a nice time, and text me if you’re going to be late.”

  “Okay.” I shut the door, feeling guilty. She was pretty cool as far as moms went. Bethany’s parents weren’t even letting her come that day because she had a piano lesson.

  “You’re late.” Julius turned when I reached his side, and headed up the stairs of the building.

  “You should have said hello to my mother.” I shoved my hands in my pockets.

  “Why?” Julius grunted as he hauled open the school’s door.

  “Because it’s polite.” Just being near Julius put a bounce in my step, even if he had been rude to my mom.

  “Manners are overrated.”

  I chuckled. “How would you know?”

  He smirked, but didn’t answer.

  Inside, Nathan Hale seemed entirely made of concrete. The walls were thicker and dirtier than at Clinton, as if it were a zoo rather than a school, but the doors to the library were ornate, carved wood. I pulled one open, awkwardly aware that I was flexing my biceps in an effort to show off.

  “Can I help you?” The librarian at the check-in counter was watching us over the top of her glasses.

  “Yes. My name is Julius Drake. Henry Walker and I go to Clinton Academy. Our Historical Inquiry teacher, Marjory Stein, mentioned that you had a copy of Broadsides and Bayonets: The Propaganda War of the American Revolution here, and since it’s out of print . . .”

  The woman plucked off her glasses, and replaced them with a different pair. She narrowed her eyes behind thick lenses. “Isn’t it a little early in the year to be doing extra research?”

  Julius flashed a bright smile. “I know, but my friend Henry is a huge fan of Carl Berger. He just moved here from a small town in Texas, and he’s only read excerpts online.” Julius nudged me in the ribs.

  “When I heard you had the book here, I had to come right over.” I thought about adding an aw shucks at the end, but couldn’t force it. My normal accent sounded strange to my ears, refusing to show up and behave now that I needed it.

  “Fine. But you can’t check the book out. You can read it here and photocopy less than five pages, but that’s—”

  “That’ll be fine.” Julius tugged at my arm.

  “Thanks,” I told the woman as we passed.

  We walked through the library. Other than the rows of computers, which were impressive, Nathan Hale’s library wasn’t much bigger than Clinton’s.

  “How did you know they’d have that book?” I whispered.

  “All Seattle school libraries have their book lists online somewhere. For the right price, any ninth grader will cough up their school’s log-in password. From there I just ran Nathan Hale’s list against Clinton’s to find something they had that we didn’t.”

  Julius didn’t bother to keep his voice down as much as I would expect. The girls studying nearby gave us angry scowls.

  I winced apologetically.

  “Here.” Julius dropped to a crouch in front of a section full of yearbooks. “Let’s start with juniors.” He handed me a copy.

  “Sure.” I sat at the table by the window and started working through the pages.

  It wasn’t long before Julius cleared his throat.

  “Yes?” I had a feeling this wasn’t about Hal or even the girl in the picture, because Julius was flipping the pages of the yearbook a little too crisply.

  “How are you liking school so far?”

  Coming from anyone else, it was a reasonable question. From Julius, it was strangely personal. “Fine. The classes seem cool.”

  “And the people?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. “Yeah. Bethany and those guys are nice.”

  “Thea seems quite keen on you.”

  “I guess.” We’d
only hung out a couple of times, but I could see his point. “Sure.”

  “So, what are you going to say when she asks you out?”

  “Ummmm?” My brain short-circuited. Mouth dry, I licked my lips. “You think she’s going to ask me out?”

  Julius’s eyes were still on his page. “Most likely. Unless they’ve decided Bethany gets to have you. Frankly, I’m pretty sure Bethany friend-zoned you from the beginning.”

  I was shocked Julius even knew what the term “friend-zoned” meant. “I don’t think Bethany sees me that way.” I took note of one girl in the yearbook who looked a bit like the one in Hal’s picture, all the while hoping Julius would drop his line of questioning.

  Julius coughed into his hand. “Well, Bethany’s not deluded.”

  That shredded the last of my focus. “What do you mean?” A familiar panic welled up in my throat. I knew what Julius was insinuating, and he was wrong. Or maybe not wrong, but I wasn’t sure he was right.

  Julius glanced up. “Please, Henry. You know what I mean.”

  A chunk of bile had climbed up my esophagus and was stuck there like it might spill into my mouth. How would he know I liked guys? I didn’t seem gay. At least, not so I thought. For God’s sake, even I wasn’t sure that I was gay. Maybe it was just Julius I liked—not guys in general. I didn’t think I was the same as those men at Starbucks. Though, I guessed maybe at their age they might have been something like me.

  “Whatever. Thea’s nice.” I rubbed my face. “Maybe I’ll go for it.” Like some stranger was talking for me, I felt my lips moving, but I couldn’t seem to stop the words. “She’s pretty hot.”

  Julius tipped his head to the side, and there was an instant where I might have seen emotion on his face. Sadness? Maybe even disappointment.

  He couldn’t care whether I went out with Thea. As I buried my attention back in my yearbook, I wondered—What if he does care?

  “What do you think of this girl?” Julius shoved the yearbook he’d been searching under my nose. “Do you think she matches the picture?”

  I twitched, discomforted by the change in subject. “That girl? Uh . . .” I checked the shots Julius had printed off his computer. Zoe Ward certainly looked like the girl from the party. “Yeah. It could be her.”

  “I’m sure it’s her.” Julius slapped the yearbook closed.

  “What do we do now?” A name wasn’t much to go on. Besides, even if she’d gone to Clinton, she would have been so far above Julius and me on the social hierarchy we might as well call the president and ask for an interview.

  “Now, we watch and wait.” Julius stood, leaving the books on the table. “Moving too quickly would arouse suspicion, but we should watch Hal’s friends at school. I can handle Natasha and run reconnaissance on a few of the senior girls. You have a Facebook account, right?”

  I nodded. “Everyone does, don’t they?”

  Julius shrugged. “I don’t.”

  “You should get one.”

  “Work on following people at Clinton. Or friend-ing them, or whatever people do.”

  The groups of girls were still at their table by the door, and one of them rolled her eyes at me. She looked familiar. Probably I’d seen her in the yearbook. “Sorry,” I whispered.

  She shrugged and went back to her work.

  “See if you can become friends with Hal’s group online,” Julius said.

  “I doubt they’d accept my friend request.” I tried to smile at the librarian, but it was hard knowing I’d lied about the history book. My grin probably came out all teeth. “Anyway . . .” We pushed out into the hallway. As dim as it was, it smelled like freedom. “People don’t use Facebook much. Back in Texas, my friends used Instagram and Snapchat mostly.”

  “Then do that. Friend them on Instagram.”

  I rolled my fingertips across the pads of my thumbs, thinking. “That’s easier. I don’t need their permission unless it’s a private account. And almost no one keeps their accounts private.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You know . . . If you want to try social networking, you could do Tumblr.” I’m not sure why I cared whether Julius was online. Maybe I wanted to see what he reblogged.

  “Tumblr is all boys with their shirts off.”

  My face warmed so fast I was surprised that stubborn pimple on my forehead didn’t incinerate. I could have argued that there was much more to Tumblr, but that smacked of self-defense. Anyway, if my cheeks were as red as I imagined they were, there was no use denying Julius’s observation.

  “So, I’ll follow people,” I mumbled, trying to hide my embarrassment.

  Julius opened the doors, and we headed out of the building. “Do that, Henry. And let me know what you find.”

  Julius was right about Thea. On Monday, she followed me around after Spanish even though she’d been across the school in German. By Tuesday, she’d claimed the seat next to me in the cafeteria. Then halfway through lunch on Wednesday she asked, “Bethany and I were thinking of seeing the latest X-Men movie this weekend. Do you want to go?”

  Though I’d seen it coming, I still had trouble answering. People were swirling around as usual, and it felt like all their eyes were on me. Bethany, who sat three seats away, was watching me like a hawk.

  “Um . . .?” I looked to Kevin like he could throw me a lifeline, but his attention was on the cell phone he was hiding under the table.

  “We could go the four of us,” Bethany piped in helpfully. “Are you free, Kev?”

  He jerked to attention. “Yeah. Uh, I guess.”

  I set down my sandwich and chewed on the straw to my juice box. The truth was, I did want to see the movie. Just . . . not as a date. But I liked Thea well enough. How bad could it be? “Sure. A movie would be cool.”

  I invited Bethany to my house after school on Friday. Luckily, Thea had soccer practice, so I got a couple of hours to mentally prepare.

  “Are you excited about tonight?” Bethany asked as we were cresting the hill to Madison Park. The afternoon was sunny and warm, so I didn’t mind the fact that I had to walk my bike in order to go at Bethany’s pace.

  “Yeah. I suppose.” I thought about the various female friends I’d had in my life. And, more importantly, my lack of guy friends. Without any male role models, I was never sure how I was supposed to act in a romantic context. I’d overheard plenty of guys talking in the halls and bathrooms at school, though. Half the time, they appeared grossed out by girls. They complained about how girls talked and acted, they wondered why girls did what they did, but even when complaining, most guys my age seemed to find girls fascinating.

  For me, girls had always been people. Some had pretty eyes or nice ankles, but noticing that had never brought me to the frenzy of confusion I’d seen from guys around school.

  I figured I was a late bloomer. Though, if being into girls turned me into the kind of sniggering jerk it did most boys my age, I wasn’t sure I wanted any part of it.

  “Thea really likes you,” Bethany said it in an airy and indifferent manner taken right from Julius’s playbook.

  “Yeah. She’s nice,” I said noncommittally.

  “Did you want to invite Julius along?” Bethany frowned, her forehead creasing. “As a friend, I mean? It might be a little awkward, but I don’t think Thea would mind.”

  The hill down to Starbucks always seemed long, but getting questioned by Bethany made the walk feel even farther than usual. “Why would I do that? It would be weird to invite him on a . . .” Truthfully, I thought it was a double date. Though I suppose Bethany and Kevin were just coming along for moral support.

  “Well, yeah.” Bethany made an odd little gesture. “But it’s a group thing. Julius could have come.”

  “Well, it’s too late now.”

  “I guess.” Bethany went silent. We’d finally made it to the bottom of the hill, I leaned my bike against the wall while we stopped for coffee.

  While standing in line, I had a thought. “Did you want me to
invite Julius? For you?” My stomach knotted at the thought of Bethany and Julius dating. First off, I’d be pushed to the outskirts of conversations. More to the point, I wanted him to be my friend.

  “For me?” She scrunched up her face. “Like, to go out with?” As Bethany laughed, her bushy hair bounced and her glasses rode down her nose. “Um, no.”

  The person in front of us moved, so Bethany and I gave the barista our orders. As we went to the other side of the counter to wait, I considered what she’d said. “Why wouldn’t you want to go out with him?”

  Julius was really good-looking—even Bethany said so. I was a guy, and I wasn’t supposed to notice, but he could have been on TV.

  “Seriously?” Bethany put her hand on my shoulder. Even through her lenses, her brown-eyed gaze was severe. “I’m fairly certain Julius doesn’t like girls.”

  I knew what she’d said, but still couldn’t believe she’d done so out loud. Worry sizzled under my skin, and my voice rose as I asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, please.” Our coffees appeared, and Bethany grabbed them. Making a face like I was an idiot, she handed me mine. “Julius is gay.”

  Normally, I added cream and sugar, but today I headed straight for the door. I hauled it open, grabbed my bike, and strode as fast as my legs could carry me.

  “Hold up.” Bethany hurried to my side, speed-walking to keep her drink steady. “Does it bother you? Julius being gay?” She skipped a step to get ahead of me. “Because if it does. That’s lame.”

  “No. I mean, of course not. I’m cool with it.” I frowned at my wrist, which I’d splattered with coffee in my rush to get out of Starbucks and with my balancing act of trying to walk a bike while carrying coffee. “But it’s kind of a surprise, y’know?”

  “Really?” She cocked her eyebrows at me. “It’s pretty obvious.”

  “Why? Does he have a boyfriend or something?” The very thought turned my stomach, though I didn’t know if it was because I was grossed out by the idea or jealous.

  “Julius?” Bethany chuckled. “Have you met him? How would he get a boyfriend? He’d have to be nice to someone for more than three minutes.”