by Lauren Helms
"I'm sorry, Miss. I've told you already, we can't give out any information on students, especially ongoing investigations." The officer sighs. I've been in here two other times, and I'm getting nowhere with this guy.
"So you admit he's involved in an investigation?" I'm smart enough to know I'm not going to get any more out of him. Though this is the first time I've dealt with him, none of them have given me what I want.
He blinks slowly at me, refusing to verbally acknowledge my question.
I hang my head in defeat.
"I'm really am sorry I can't help you." His voice is genuine. "If no one down at the station can tell you anything, then we definitely can't."
"Can you at least give me the name of someone that can help me? Maybe a detective on the case?" If my hands weren't resting on the counter, I would have them crossed, hoping to hear something I can use.
He shakes his head in disappointment. I don't know if it's because he can't answer my questions or if I can't take a hint. "I think you should probably be on your way." He's not wrong, but I'm offended he's not more help.
My shoulders sag, and I turn to leave. I reach my hands up to push open the door when he calls out to me. "You should check with his family. His parents, I'm sure, have information they can give you."
I can tell he thinks he's offering up good advice, but it's worthless. I nod and push out of the building.
I had Wells try to get a hold of Ryker's uncle, and all he supplied was, ‘Ryker is fine. He's taking responsibility for his actions.’ That's about it. At least I have confirmation my boyfriend is alive. Though, whatever is going on, I highly doubt he hasn't had a chance to contact me at least once.
The anger at him not contacting me bubbles up, but then guilt and worry take over. What if he's in jail? Oh, my God. Whatever he did, he doesn't deserve to be in jail. I know hacking is bad, but Ryker is a good person. Then a thought crosses my mind: what if he got caught for what he did to find Frank and Anna?
Panic starts to rise from my belly up through my chest. What if this is my fault? Tears prickle at my eyes as I walk back through campus. I pull out my phone and call Wells.
"Hey." His voice is gruffer than normal.
"What if this is my fault?" I blurt into the phone.
"What?"
"Why Ryker was arrested. Could it be my fault?" I bite back my tears.
"First of all, we don't know for sure if that's the case. The fact that it isn't public record makes me believe he wasn't arrested. And secondly, how in the hell did you come to that conclusion?"
"I asked him to find my birth parents, what if he got caught? Whatever he did to find them was risky. He could get in a lot of trouble if he were caught," I whisper this into the phone, worried about anyone around me overhearing.
Wells blows out a deep breath. "Look, Zella, I really don't think you have anything to do with the trouble he's gotten into. I think he will show back up eventually, and when he does, we will get answers. And if we don't, I'll kick his ass for you." I can tell by his tone that he's dead serious; the sentiment isn't lost on me. It helps.
I let out a small laugh. "Okay, okay. I'm just... not handling this well. I miss him, and I'm so worried."
"I know, sweetie, I know. I'm trying to get as much info as I can when I'm at work, but they know I'm his roommate, so they are careful about what they say." It helps to know Wells has his ear to the ground.
"All right." I sigh into the phone.
"Aren't you going with Louisa to pick up your dress for the ball?" He, just like Cam, has been trying to get my mind off missing Ryker. When Louisa asked to have lunch, pedicures, and dress pick up, I knew it was on Wells's request. I really like Louisa, but I don't know her well, and it felt like something a very close girlfriend would do with you, not the new girlfriend of one of your guy pals. But she seems nice enough, and it will be a distraction.
"Yes, I'm walking back to the apartments to meet her now," I tell him, then we say our goodbyes. I welcome the distractions, but I doubt picking up a dress, that I'm supposed to wear to a ball with a boyfriend who probably won't show up, is going to be much of one.
Sure enough, nearly two hours later, it's not. I've enjoyed some girl time. Getting our nails done relaxed me a little. Lunch was spent with light chit-chat, but picking up my dress was another story.
I found my dress two months ago before I even had a date. I saw it and knew it was the perfect gown. It's a light purple, A-line gown with a mix of lace and tulle. The bodice is fitted and covered in flowers with tiny dazzling sparkles within each piece. Thin capped sleeves and a rounded sheer fabric keeps the V-cut of the bodice innocent, though I still feel sexy. The long, full, but relaxed, delicate tulle skirt has an easy flair. Satin ribbons lace up the back of the dress, and I can't decide if that's my favorite part of the dress or if it’s the way the dress lightly swooshes as I move.
I didn't have Ryker in mind when I picked it out; it's one hundred percent for me. When I had my fitting last month, even though he hadn't said yes, I imagined what he would say when he saw me in it. Suddenly, the gown felt like so much more. I sniffle a little as I try on the dress one final time before leaving with it.
When I get home, I carefully hang the dress bag in my closet. Standing there, staring at it, I decide I've been waiting for a dance like this Glass Ball my whole life. I don't want to waste the experience being depressed. I'm going to go, and I'm going to have fun.
Wells and Louisa will be there, as well as Cam, so I know it will be a good night. I hope and pray Ryker will show up, but I won't check my heart at the door.
I'm going to live in the moment and check one more item off my bucket list.
18
Ryker
Multiple times in the past two weeks, I've had to take a moment and wonder, how the hell did I get to this point in my life? I've tried to pinpoint the exact moment in my life where I was set down this path that I'm on. I've identified several possible events that could have put me here, but no matter which way I turn the puzzle around in my head, I think I would have ended up here all along.
Maybe, I was set on this path when I was too young to make my own decisions. It's an easy enough excuse. I could ultimately blame being dropped in the system and being stuck there for too long.
I won't sit here and place blame. The long and the short of it is, I got cocky somewhere along the way when it came to hacking my way through petty Internet crimes. Over the past several days, not knowing if I’d only see the inside of a jail cell for the next few years has really got me rethinking my life. I didn’t want to have to beg my uncle for help, as he’s already grudgingly given me more than he thinks I deserve. Did I really want to continue down this path? Have I always made the right choices along the way? I can’t say I’d change the choices I made up until this point, because if I did, I wouldn’t have found Zella.
I know I'm going to be one lucky motherfucker if she'll take me back after nearly two weeks of radio silence.
I've thought about her often, mostly when I'm alone. They confiscated my phone and laptop the minute I walked into the police station. While I wasn't arrested, I was still only allowed one phone call, which was to my uncle. I did ask him to contact Wells, the only friend I've ever had, but knowing my uncle, Wells might not have gotten my "I'm all right" message.
Twelve days ago, I was taken in for questioning for the attempt to steal upwards of two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars from the university. That fucking job I was contacted about months ago came back and bit me in the ass.
The first day was hell. They accused me of the attempt. No matter what I said, they didn't believe me. It was rough because they weren't letting on as to what all they had on me. I didn't want to give away anything from past jobs that could jeopardize myself or anyone else.
On day three, things shifted.
Agent Black gave me a hard look across the table after an hour of grueling questioning. "Truth is, Stone, we don't think you did it. We know you tur
ned the job down. But we've got you on so much shit we could lock you up for years."
I wasn't surprised; Black and Graham seemed competent at their jobs.
"So what do you want from me? Why else would you hold me here if you don't think I did it?" I was tired and annoyed with their games. I wanted to get all this shit behind me.
"We want you to find out who did it. Who set up the job?"
It was all starting to make sense now. They needed me, and they're going to use my past discretions over my head as leverage.
"Don't you have guys for that? Clearly, you've got the funding." Wasn't this the kind of thing Zella told me I should consider after school? Isn't there a need for guys like me, who are willing to wear white hats?
"We'll give you credit, Stone. You're good. Better than our guy, but don't tell Antonio I said that." He chuckles, now acting all chummy.
I didn't buy it; there was no pretending I could be friends with the man someday. That ship sailed days ago.
However, I didn't see another option. Help take down what Black and Graham had divulged as a crime ring. Turns out, several Universities had large amounts of fundraising money stolen in the past several months. These fuckers never thought I did it in the first place, just wanted my help. Not too thrilled with their methods. I'd have to find other ways to use my hacking skills for good. Working with the authorities hasn't been a walk in the park.
No, it was either help them, or they had me on identify theft, data fraud, and computer fraud—just to name a few. Sure, the first two sound really fucking bad, but what I did was so minor compared to what I could have done.
If I helped the cops, I’d walk away from this with a clean slate, and I had to promise to keep my nose clean. I made the deal, accepted my punishment, and agreed to help them. I thought that meant I might be able to give Zella a call, to let her know I was okay. I was wrong. Immediately, I was transferred to a safe house, no outside contact until the job was done. While I balked at their reasoning for the safe house, they insisted on keeping me safe while I assist them in taking down a crime ring.
The safe house was decent. The set up the Feds gave me was grade-A. They monitored the shit out of what I did though. I had to fight for the opportunity to run through everything the original hacker did, so I could find a trace of him. Every hacker has a fingerprint. They leave something behind with every job. While the hacker who attempted to steal the money ultimately failed, there was no doubt in my mind I’d be able to find him if I could figure out who he was.
Following the rules, made the job take ten times longer than it should have, but I finally had a breakthrough on day ten. I had officially assisted the Feds in the arrest of not only the hacker behind the botched job, but also, the man who set up the job.
Heading home was in my near future. Upon my return from the safe house, I'm granted my phone, which is dead, my laptop and the rest of my belongings. I'm going to have to wipe everything and then get a new system, who knows what they might have done. They said they were going to keep an eye on me, so I'll just have to start new. Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna keep my nose clean, but only clean enough to not get me in too much hot water.
I shrug, not going to stop cold turkey.
Once I get back to my car, I plug in my phone. It will take a few minutes to boot up with enough juice, so instead of waiting to call Wells and Zella, I head home.
I pull in to the Loft parking lot just as my phone comes to life. I've got so many goddamn messages, I don't know where to start. That's a lie. I know where to start: with Zella's. Her messages and texts range from worried to mad, to scared, to desperate. They stopped about four days ago. My stomach is sick with fear that she's not going to want to have anything to do with me now. But I'm going to try my best to win her back.
Still scrolling through my phone as I walk up to my building, I hear Wells up ahead.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in." He's leaning against a lamppost, and I can't read the expression on his face.
"Yeah. I know. Good to be home," I offer.
He pushes off the post as I meet up with him. "Man, we've been so fucking worried about you. You all right?" He— the old Wells, the guy who truly used to be my best friend—claps a hand on my shoulder. "It's been two weeks from hell. What do you know? Anything? I gotta find Zella as soon as possible. I'm sure she hates me."
Wells’s eyes sadden and panic kicks in. "All I know is they wanted to bring you in for questioning. Then we didn't see or hear from you again." He walks with me as we enter the building.
"I asked my uncle to contact you," I grumble. He's such a dick.
Wells nods. "When I finally got a hold of him, he was cryptic. Said you were fine but finally taking responsibility for your actions. He wouldn't give me anything else." He pauses, turns to me, and asks, "Dude, were you arrested? The police were unhelpful; I couldn't get a straight answer from them."
"No, I wasn't," I spit out. "You went to the police?" I asked, a little surprised he cared so much.
He slides a glance my way as we enter the elevator. "No, I didn't, but Zella did. Multiple times. She got nowhere."
My heart tightens at his words. Zella must have been freaking out. "I need to call her. Go see her. I'm going to change first." I look down at my pants and shirt. The clothes given to me at the safe house didn't fit well and were super cheap. Never thought I'd miss my own clothes so much.
"That's going be a problem," he says as we come to a stop in front of our apartment.
My ears perk up at that. "What do you mean?" I question, he doesn't sound angry or disappointed, so I don't understand his meaning.
"Well, she's on her way to the Ball. I'm actually heading there myself."
That's when I look at him for the first time and realize the dude is wearing a black suit, pants, and a soft blue button-up.
"Shit. That's tonight." I close my eyes in defeat.
Fuck, I messed up.
Wells grabs my shoulders. "Hey, Ryker, it's all good. I got wind yesterday that you were going to be released. So I picked up a suit from the place I rented mine. It was cheap, it probably doesn't fit right, but it's all I could get on short notice. If you hurry, we can head over there and not miss too much."
I stand there, in the middle of our shared living space and stare at him. "I don't... okay... okay... this is good." I look around, seemingly dumbstruck with what to do next.
Wells laughs. "Dude, shower, fast. You can tell me all the details about where the hell you've been on the way." He pushes me toward my room, and my feet thankfully move.
Through my quick shower and getting dressed in a surprisingly comfortable slim-fitting navy suit, I keep up hope that I can save things with Zella. I can explain everything, answer her questions, so we can get back on track.
Then I'm going to fucking kiss the daylights out of her. If I'm lucky, do a lot more after this fucking dance is over, and I can get out of this penguin suit.
19
Zella
For some reason, Wells doesn't escort us to the dance. Louisa said something work-related came up but promises he won't be late. Louisa doesn't seem bothered by his absence, which makes me wonder if things aren't going well for them, or maybe she's just as laid back as she seems.
We arrive in the Glass Room; I'm in awe of the space. I've never stepped foot in here before though, I've thought about it over the months. The area is large with ornate hand-painted ceilings and mirrors line the walls, giving it its name. Multiple fireplaces fill the room, yet as I look closer to them, I see they are no longer in use and probably haven't been for some time.
Cameron bumps my shoulder. "Isn't this place over the top?"
I snort. "You could say that again. It looks like a ballroom right out of a fairytale."
"I think that's the point." He chuckles. He nods his head toward one of the fireplaces. "A lot of these fireplaces used to lead to secret passageway throughout campus."
"Really? That's amazing." I study the one we
stand next to more closely.
"Yeah, there are several underground tunnels that take you to places around campus, but most of them have been sealed off. Though, I'm told that there is one that still usable."
"Oh, I want to find it." I glance around the room, noting now is not the time for an adventure. "Maybe we'll sneak in here sometime and find it."
"Sounds like a plan to me. Do you want to dance? I'm going to get bored real fast if all we do is stand here and chit-chat."
I laugh because he warned me this thing would be boring, but if the right music was playing, he would just dance the night away. So it doesn't surprise me that he's ready to move it.
"I'm going to run to the ladies’ room real fast, then I'll find you on the dance floor."
He leans in and kisses my cheek before turning and wading into the large group of ball gown and suit-clad attendees.
To get to the ladies’ room, I have to wander back out of The Glass Room, but as I make my way through the growing crowd, I catch sight of Wells. He's standing with Louisa and another man. I make a mental note to find him on my way back in before making it to the dance floor.
After maneuvering my way in and out of the tiny restroom stall, I slowly wash my hands. I've been looking forward to this event for months. My dress, I'm in love with it. My hair is braided to the side, my hair swept over onto one shoulder. The stylist who spent two hours teasing, curling, and braiding my hair talked me into some side bangs to give my braid more depth and delicately pinned little white roses throughout the braid.
I have to say, despite the gobs of hairspray and bobby pins used, I'm absolutely in love with what she did. As I sat there, she shared some ideas she had for my hair if I wanted to try something new and get it cut. While cutting my hair is something I want to do, listening to the style ideas she has makes me so much more excited. I know, without a doubt, I'm going to come back to her soon.
Staring at myself in the mirror, taking in how much more grown-up I look, and feel, at this point in my life, I can't help but think of Ryker. While I took the first leap and got myself here, he helped me through all the tiny steps I still needed to take.
