Her eyes, his lies

By AbbaSorhamm

1.1K 112 49

Jane's a teenage weirdo. She's awkward, plain, anxious, and above it all, a hacking prodigy. Ryder's the q... More

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Final Chapter
Epilogue

Chapter 5

39 4 1
By AbbaSorhamm


Alexander State High, thanks to the paranoia of its principal, was under constant surveillance. A camera covered every hallway, every classroom, and every parking lot. There were few places you were not being tracked by the school's automated security system. And as Orwellian as it may seem, Jane liked it. Because their eyes were hers too.

Finding the remote server that the cameras transmitted to was relatively easy for her. A modified raspberry pi, and a few automatically executing python scripts were all it took for her to spy on essentially any student on campus. And spy she did.

As the texts between Beatrice and Ryder had provided little information about the location of their rendezvous, she had been forced to track Ryder's movements throughout the school with her laptop.

Seated in a relatively secluded corner, she flipped between different camera feeds, searching for him.

A gray-scale view of the teachers lounge displayed a teacher grading papers. Pressing the arrow key, the screen changed to a low resolution feed of the parking lot. Another press and she was looking at herself from high above.

Playfully, she waved at the camera situated at the end of the hall.

Focus, Jane. More key presses.

"Gotcha," she whispered under her breath, catching sight of his crimson letterman jacket striding down yet another hallway.

A student waved at him. Ryder returned the gesture, flashing a smile. Ever the people's man.

Jane shut her laptop. She knew where he was headed, and there were no cameras there. She'd have to do this in meat-space.

Taking off at a light jog, she rounded the corner. Her bag, heavy with her laptop and notebooks, bounced against her hips painfully. The hallways were empty, as most of the students were either eating lunch in the cafeteria or loitering outside of the building.

As she rushed, her mind weighed questions as it always did. Why were they meeting behind the school, one of the only places without camera surveillance?

Her cheeks colored, both from the effort of jogging and from the thoughts of what the pair may be planning to do in private.

Her shame reared its head. This is borderline predatory. This is perverse. She should turn around and forget all about this. She should, but she couldn't.

Her feet carried her ever closer to the overgrown alley behind the school and the secretive meeting taking place there.

The covered alley was originally meant to house dumpsters, where they could easily be wheeled to the street. To reach it, one would need to travel down a long hall situated at the rear of the campus, then exit through a one-way emergency door whose alarm had stopped working years ago. As clandestine a meeting place as you could get.

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."

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