Her eyes, his lies

Chapter 5

Ryder's wide back was visible from behind the frosted glass of the door. Beatrice's straight, dark hair bobbed as she talked in an energetic fashion. Whatever the conversation held, it was clearly heated.

Moving as silently as she could, Jane crept as close as she dared to the door. She was suddenly grateful for the poor ventilation of Alexander highschool's hallways. It meant sound traveled far better. Even with the storm, she could make out what they were saying.

"-don't think he's gonna pay up." Beatrice's voice was surprisingly audible.

"So I'll talk to him. Problem solved. There's no need to do it your way," Ryder said.

"And then what? We're still out five gees."

Ryder paced a short line down the alley, his shadowy figure fading in and out of view. Jane's breathing deepened, and her curiosity along with it. Rough him up? 'Gees'? Were they rehearsing for a play?

A dull thump resounded from behind the door. Jane realized Ryder had kicked something.

"Dude, chill." Beatrice sounded more unimpressed than afraid.

"Dad's not gonna like this," Ryder said.

Beatrice didn't reply. Judging by a sudden sparkle of orange light, Jane realized she had lit a cigarette.

Ryder returned to his pacing. The rain pattered against the thin metal ceiling that hung over the alley. "So what can we do?"

She bent forward, straining her ears. Her bag swayed pendulously from her shoulder.

"Well, this is what I got off the others," Beatrice replied.

There was a pause. Jane could vaguely hear the sound of shuffling paper.

"This isn't enough." Ryder's silhouette held its palm up, a small mass visible on it.

Beatrice was starting to sound annoyed. "We'll figure it out. You know I always have your back."

Ryder pocketed whatever he had been holding. "You always say that. 'You have my back'."

"Yeah, so?"

"It's always me getting things done. You never have to deal with anything. Even when we were together."

Beatrice dropped the glowing cigarette. Her voice betrayed an emotional pain that Jane didn't understand. "When we were together? Don't you remember the random bag inspection? Or that time you almost got caught on camera?"

Ryder's arms crossed. "What's your point?"

"My point," Beatrice replied, enunciating each word, "Is that you're not smart enough to stay under the radar."

Jane was surprised at her tone, half-way between rage and crying. Ryder growled something unintelligible in response.

Beatrice dropped her cigarette and crushed it underfoot, snuffing the flame out. "You need me, dude. Just accept it."

Another pause.

"And... I still need you," Beatrice continued, her voice quieting somewhat.

Jane's face flushed. Maybe she shouldn't be listening to this.

Beatrice's outline reached a hand out, placing it on Ryder's chest. Ryder made a sound somewhere between a growl and a hiss. He shook his head, visibly repulsed. Then, without a word, he started down the alley, leaving Beatrice alone amongst the dumpsters.

Beatrice muttered an expletive at his retreating back, too quietly for him to hear.

It seemed even a queen bee like Beatrice could be rejected, Jane mused. She wasn't sure why the thought pleased her so much.

With a start, Jane realized she was in a bad position. The lock was missing. Only a ragged hole remained in what was once the automatic locking mechanism. It was no longer a one-way door.

She straightened, panicking. This wasn't good. Why hadn't she noticed that sooner? She had to move. She had only seconds until-

The door creaked as it opened, momentarily intensifying the sound of rain. The sudden influx of wind pushed the smell of cigarettes into the hallway.

Beatrice stopped, startled by Jane's presence.

"What..." Beatrice began.

"It's not-" Jane blurted out, her voice tight. Dimly, she knew there was nothing she could say that would work. She had been caught red-handed.

A slow, cold smile spread across Beatrice's face. It held no friendliness, only predatory amusement.

"I know you," she said, walking slowly towards Jane. "You're that loser that hangs with Victoria."

Jane opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't make a sound. Her heart was pounding.

Though Beatrice was only several inches taller than her, Jane felt as if she were facing a giant. The brunette stared down at Jane, so close that she could hear her breathing. She smelled like expensive cologne and cheap cigarettes.

There was a single moment of silence before Jane spoke up, unable to bear the tension any longer.

"I didn't-" She swallowed. "I didn't hear anything."

Beatrice's lips remained perfectly frozen in the same grin.

"You're right. You didn't." It was not a question. It was a statement.

"Y-Yeah, nothing, I swear," Jane stuttered out.

"But we have to make sure of that, don't we?" Beatrice mockingly asked herself.

She was even closer now. Frantically, Jane weighted her options. Maybe she can just run. That sounded like a bad idea, but nothing else was coming to mind. What could Beatrice do to her, really?

Slowly, Beatrice used one perfectly manicured hand to tip Jane's head upward. She looked into her eyes, unblinking. If Jane hadn't been so afraid, she would have found the overly dramatic gesture ridiculous.

"You're coming with me."

Jane gulped. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. "What?"

Beatrice let go of her head and began striding down the hallway, not bothering to look back at the sweating Jane. "Come on, beanstalk."