by LJ Byrne
Ryder has an amazing ability to say epic, swoon-worthy stuff. He’s too beautiful for his own good, too, and I don’t understand why he’s focused on me.
“What the hell are you doing to Mira?!” Ethan roars from down the hallway, storming towards us with murder on his face.
Ryder slowly moves away, his face cool and impassive. “We were talking, Ethan.”
Ethan’s skepticism is obvious. “Cabot, you don’t touch her. For God’s sake, don’t do to her what you do to other girls.”
Ryder goes rigid. “Just be blunt, De Vries. You want to know if my intentions to Mira are honorable.” He says the last word derisively.
Darcy lays a hand on Ethan’s arm. “Ethan, let it go. This isn’t the place. Don’t ruin the night by making assumptions here.”
Darcy’s gentle reasoning wins Ethan over and he makes a visible effort to relax. “Alright, alright.” Ethan gives me a stiff hug and then nudges me over to Ryder with a stern look at the other boy.
“Okay, can we put the egos aside for a second and just enjoy the dance?” Darcy demands with a hint of exasperation.
Ryder leads me back to the dance floor. “I’ve done a poor job so far on our first date,” he says to me. He glowers briefly at a furious Ingrid. “You should know that I think I’m prone to jealousy.”
“You think?” I query archly.
His faint smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I think.” His hand drifts to my waist.
“Well, the good thing about starting poorly is that you can’t get much worse,” I quip.
His warm laugh vibrates against my head. “I guess so.”
001011
My birthday begins with me and Aunt Erika over a plate of pancakes. It’s just the two of us and she regales me with stories of Mom. Then she hands me a file box that is worn and tattered on the edges. Inside are my mother’s journals.
“She wrote in them faithfully from age fourteen and on.” My aunt grows thoughtful. “She was certainly better about journaling than I was. She stopped not long after high school, I think. After Robert and I married, it put a damper on how often we were together. I didn’t expect to fall in love so suddenly.” Her voice lowers conspiratorially. “Did you know that our father wanted Gwennie to marry Ernest Whitman? He threw them together all the time. She went on a few dates, but Ernest was an unpleasant young man. He remains unpleasant to this day. I always felt bad for Sally being married to such a snide man.”
“Ernest Whitman? Ingrid’s father?” I make a face.
“I know, right?” Aunt Erika sighs. “No, Gwen had more sense than that.”
“It didn’t bother me when I was little – not knowing who my dad was, I mean. But now I wish I did know something about him,” I admit.
Aunt Erika takes my hand sympathetically. “I’ve wracked my brains about this.” With her other hand, she lifts my chin. “You’ve definitely got some Asian blood in you, but I can’t think of anyone who Gwen knew at the time that would be a potential father for you. We weren’t very diverse back then, but it must have been someone that Gwen didn’t want anyone to know about.” Her lips turn down. “To be honest, I wasn’t a great sister. I was obsessed with getting pregnant. Robert and I wanted to have a lot of kids.” Her eyes cloud. “It wasn’t in the cards for us, though. I must’ve done something to make Gwen think she couldn’t trust me. Or she must’ve been afraid of Father finding out.”
“Maybe some things aren’t meant to be known,” I say finally. “I asked her once about her parents. She never said she was an only child. In fact, all she told me was that she had to strike out on her own because it was necessary.” I pause, recollecting something. “I remember a neighbor complaining about her sister, and Mom got very emotional. She said to never take a sister for granted because your sister is your other half. Not better, not worse, but still a part of you.”
Aunt Erika closes her eyes briefly. “Thank you…for that memory.” Her blue eyes shimmer when she opens them. “And thank you, Gwennie, for giving me your daughter.”
How Darcy manages to get Ethan to agree to this party is beyond me. At precisely two in the afternoon, Darcy, Celeste, and Brittany show up. We go up to my room with sleeping bags and blankets. At three, Ryder, Connor, Nate, and Xander show up, ignoring Ethan’s faint frown as they barge into my room. Somehow, Ethan gets a pillow to his face, which results in a massive pillow war. I’m not sure if the guys pick sides, but somehow it ends with the girls declaring victory.
Ethan snags Darcy and swings her over his shoulder. “I’m kidnapping your ringleader. We’ll meet you in the hot tub.” He disappears with her.
I cover my mouth with a hand when Xander waggles his brows suggestively. Nate leans his head against Brittany and asks, “Hmm, feel like being kidnapped?” Brittany pushes him away with a huff.
We shoo the boys out so we can change into swimsuits, and the boys beat us to the hot tub.
“Honestly, if you weren’t Ethan’s cousin, I’d be in here naked,” Xander announces. Nate reaches over to smack the back of his head. “Hey! As if you guys wouldn’t do the same!”
“You don’t need to announce it to them,” Connor grumbles.
I’m conscious of Ryder’s eyes following my every move. The hot tub is blissfully warm, and I give a little sigh as I sink into the bubbly water, but I start feeling shy when Ryder sits next to me, his lids slightly lowered.
Ryder rests his arms outside the tub. “You okay with this?” he asks me quietly. When I nod, he doesn’t bother to hide his pleased smile. He presses a kiss to my temple. “Happy birthday, Mira.” I hope no one notices that I’m blushing.
“We should think about pizza,” Nate announces. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Ryder scoffs.
Xander leans forward to tap my nose with his finger. “What does the birthday girl want on her pizza?”
Ryder stands abruptly, grabbing Xander by the throat. “Back off, Xander!” he snaps furiously, ignoring my wide eyes.
Xander just laughs. “Easy, man. I get it.”
Ryder lets go, stretching his neck. His eyes darken as he looks at me somewhat apologetically. He reaches for my hand in the water. We went to the ball together, but we’re suddenly on hand-holding terms?
“Pineapple? A sin or not a sin, that’s the real question,” Connor says.
“I like pineapple on my pizza,” I say timidly.
Nate groans in despair, but Ryder flashes him a dark look. Nate lifts his hands in surrender. “You get whatever you want, Mira.”
By the time Ethan joins us with a flustered Darcy, the guys unanimously decide that while we’re waiting for pizzas, I should open presents. I reiterate my threat to reject anything that looks egregiously expensive.
Ethan goes first. “It’s a gift from Mom, Dad, and me,” he explains, as I open the box.
Inside is a collection of photos set up as a collage within a frame. In the first row are pictures of Mom and Aunt Erika as babies and then as teens. The second row contains pictures of Ethan throughout the years. And the final row has pictures of me. I give Ethan a huge hug.
“Oh, you were such a cute baby,” Brittany coos. “Look at all that hair!”
“Ethan was a grumpy baby,” Connor teases, pointing at Ethan’s crabby face in a picture.
“Wow, I never realized your moms were identical twins,” Celeste comments. “I can’t tell them apart in the pictures.” I look at my mother’s young face and grow misty.
Nate hands me an envelope. “This is from me, Connor, and Xander. Your twenty-dollar limit was difficult to work around. But we used Groupon and got a membership discount.”
Inside are four tickets to a play in February. “I thought you and the girls could go together,” Connor explains with a glance at Celeste. “The play is called Proof. I think you’ll like it.”
“Thank you,” I say shyly.
Brittany, Darcy, and Celeste hand me their box. Inside is a collection of items. There are four si
lver bracelets. Each of the girls put one on and hand me the fourth. I notice that the inside is etched with our names, the year, and the words Best Roommates Ever. There’s a USB drive containing a variety of K-pop songs that I told Celeste that I like. And the final thing is a small, framed photo of all four of us dressed up for Halloween.
Celeste says softly, “I know you came to us full of sadness and loss. But you’ve also gained a few friends this year.”
I blink back a few tears and we do a group hug while Ethan rolls his eyes.
Ryder goes last and I take his gift suspiciously. The box is rather large, but not very heavy. I’m not prepared to find a sketch of myself inside the box. In the drawing, I’m sitting in my school uniform, leaning over my laptop with a slight smile on my face. My hair is pulled into a messy bun, but a lock has escaped and drapes over my cheek. My fingers are drawn in fine detail. I have one hand on the keyboard and the other is tucked beneath my chin.
“Did you draw this?” I ask as everyone goes quiet. Ryder dips his head once, watching me intently.
Beneath the sketch is a plain leather keychain. I lift it out and glance at Ryder quizzically.
“I’m going to teach you how to drive this coming summer,” Ryder announces. His lips quirk upward. “That’s for the car keys when you finally get your driver’s license.”
I’m speechless. Darcy covers Ethan’s eyes. “If you’re going to kiss her, Ryder, you need to do that while Ethan’s not looking.”
Ethan makes a rumbly sound, but he doesn’t fuss. With a smirk, Ryder leans over, planting a tiny kiss at the edge of my mouth before kissing me gently on the lips. The kiss is both sensuous and chaste. When he backs up, Celeste whispers in my ear, “I could be wrong, but I think Ryder Cabot likes you.”
001100
RReagan: The DDoS attack used several hijacked computers. Do you recognize this address?
Arch4ngel101: Do you?
RReagan: I know it’s your school. If I didn’t know you better, I would have suspected you. But all of this is linked. There are no coincidences. RatGh0st is helping someone. This isn’t his usual MO.
Arch4ngel101: You’re going to ask me for a favor, aren’t you?
RReagan: If I send you dates, are you able to send me a list of users who were online at the time?
Arch4ngel101: Are you asking me to illegally break into the school’s system?
RReagan: National security overrides school security. Look, if this is what I think it is... I could use your help.
Arch4ngel101: Send me dates, I’ll get you the info.
You’d think that after Christmas, my relationship with Ryder would escalate. It doesn’t – at least, it doesn’t escalate in a big way. It’s quieter. We work on homework assignments together. Are we dating? Are we a couple? I haven’t a clue because I never ask. We don’t hold hands publicly, but we walk side-by-side. He stares at me a lot, and during lunch, he finds reasons for our hands to meet or our shoulders to touch. Maybe Ethan makes him nervous. It doesn’t help that Ethan glowers at Ryder whenever possible.
One afternoon during gym, Ingrid corners me in the locker room. “It won’t last,” she hisses at me as Judy and Victoria circle me. “Don’t get comfortable. Ryder can have whatever toys he wants, but when it’s all said and done, Ryder and I will be King and Queen next year and you’ll be nothing.” One thing I’ll say about Ingrid is that she has lightning-fast reflexes, which she uses to pull at my hair. “Ryder will never jeopardize his chance to become king, and I could turn the tables on him just like that.” She snaps her fingers. “Ethan had political clout and money. Ryder only has me.”
I stare at her mutely, not trusting myself to speak. Besides, I don’t understand what she’s talking about.
“Remember what we told you, Mira,” Judy intones in her resonant voice. “If you need a reminder of what you are and your place at RBA, we would be happy to re-educate you.”
“You’re just like your mother,” Ingrid spits out. I stare at her in confusion.
Victoria mutters an epithet at me. “You’re pathetic. Throwing yourself at guys left and right.” She tosses her hair back over her shoulder.
The three girls move to leave, but Ingrid changes her mind at the last minute, delivering a stinging slap that makes my head snap. “I warned you to keep your greedy hands to yourself. Maybe I should show the world exactly what kind of mother you had.”
My head rings as the mark on my cheek blooms, leaving a bright splotch. By the time Celeste gets suspicious enough to look for me, the three girls are long gone.
Darcy hands me an ice pack for my cheek. “Ingrid is out of control,” she fumes, her eyes dark. “Erin’s supposed to control the girls, but she does absolutely nothing!”
Celeste snorts. “Erin won’t lift a finger to control Ingrid. You know that!”
“What did Ingrid mean about the political clout and Ryder becoming king?” I ask. We’re in our shared living room. Celeste is next to me while Darcy paces. Brittany sits across from me, cross-legged, with a worried frown.
Brittany, surprisingly, is the one that answers. “The hierarchy is based on wealth, connections, and influence over others. When Ethan and Darcy got together, Ethan was supported by several Royals. Erin’s old money and rich, but she’s not the type to make a major fuss. Ethan, on the other hand, is well-liked. He’s always been popular, especially among students who are neither Court nor Royal. Ryder is a bonafide asshole. The girls want him, the boys hate him. In fact, the only time Ryder isn’t an asshole is… when he’s with you.”
I consider Brittany’s words. Ryder was a jerk when we first met, no doubt. But now? He runs hot and cold.
My cousin shows up a few minutes later, swiftly examining my cheek. I wave him off. “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I just bruise easily.”
That doesn’t placate him. Ethan pulls out his phone and calls Erin. The moment she picks up, he starts yelling. “You’re a lousy Queen, Erin! Ingrid hit Mira! I told you to deal with this!” He’s silent as she says something to him, but his mottled face tells me all I need to know. “You know that the school sides with me! Out of respect, I didn’t replace you, but if you can’t control Ingrid, your reign ends and Darcy’s begins! She lays another finger on Mira and I won’t hesitate!” Whatever Erin says doesn’t make Ethan happy, but it’s clear she’s pleading with him. The rest of his words are terse. Once he’s done, we stare at each other wordlessly for a long time.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you call?” Ryder demands. He heard through the grapevine – actually, he heard Erin chewing Ingrid out – and tried to reach me several times. Eventually, he made his way to my dorm where Celeste ran interference until I finally relented.
“I didn’t want you to get upset. Ethan’s already mad.”
Ryder paces in front of me, his black silky hair falling across his forehead as he keeps frowning down at me. “Mira, I’ll keep you safe. Ingrid won’t touch you again.”
I wonder if he understands what he’s saying. Unless he plans on being with me every minute, I’m vulnerable. And even then, there are more of Ingrid’s posse to contend with.
“You used to be on Ingrid’s side, remember?” I’ve never brought this up with him before. “She’s mad because she thinks she has a claim to you – a claim you reinforced when we first met.”
Ryder freezes, his eyes wide. “I know.” His voice is a near whisper. He sits down on the bed next to me, reaching out with long fingers to tuck my hair back. “I know my behavior, in the beginning, was terrible. It’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be.”
Could Ryder Cabot be any more confusing? My consternation must show because he leans his forehead against mine for a moment. “I’m sorry, Mira.” When I’m silent, he changes topics. “Have you finished the math assignment yet?” I shake my head. “Come over to my room and we can work on it together.”
Remembering that I promised RReagan a file, I hesitate. “I’ll meet you. I need to talk to Celeste
first. I’ll be over in twenty.”
His smile is slow and sure. “Alright. Don’t take too long or I’ll get lonely.” His kiss to my cheek is chaste and sweet.
I laugh when he winks before leaving. Once he’s gone, I close my door and open my laptop.
When I ran through the list of logins on the dates RReagan asked for, I found that someone sent out a rather large, encrypted file under a mock account that isn’t registered to an actual student at the school. I have a simple program that runs common passwords and was able to access the account. When I open the file in a protected environment – just in case it’s a virus or something – I freeze.
I head to Discord and message Ne0Ranger21. He responds within a few minutes and I invite him to a voice chat.
“This is a surprise,” he says as soon as we’re connected.
“I’m sending you something. Someone sent this out a few weeks ago. Do you see what it says? Like, this isn’t a hacking scheme.”
There’s silence and then, “Shit. Fuel-air explosives. These are various mix ratios – and their results.”
“Duh. I know.” I rub my hands nervously. “I’m sending this over to RReagan, but I’m freaked out. People who are interested in things like this…”
“It would be bad people, Angel. Are you in danger?” He sounds concerned.
“Um. No, I don’t think so. I mean, no one knows that I do stuff like this. But the email it came from doesn’t belong to anyone here. Someone entered as an admin and created this email account.” I exhale sharply. “It’s not difficult to do, and the person did a shoddy job hiding his or her steps.” I think quietly. “You know, the person logged in using the room with the supercomputers. You have to badge in.”
“You might need to pull that information, too. What can I do to help?”
I blink in surprise. “I guess not much. Is RReagan having you work on something, too?”
