That night, I sat my parents down and laid it all out in a single sentence: hey remember that Noah kid well we're dating ha ha okay thank you, goodnight. Then I tried to tapdance off into my room, but no cigar.
"Where do you think you're going?" Mom cried. "Get back here, Buster! This is a big deal!"
"Is it, though?" I asked.
"Of course! We want you to be happy, and if this"—She summed it all up with a wave of her hand—"makes you happy, then we're happy, too."
I had never shown any sign of being anything other than heterosexual. They seemed to be taking my abrupt one-eighty on this really well.
"You aren't, like, weirded out or anything?"
Mom looked at Dad.
"He's not one of those vegans, is he?" Dad asked.
Mom rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to your father. You can date a vegan if you want, honey. You can date whoever you want."
"Thanks, but I just want to date Noah."
She stood up and patted my arm on her way to the kitchen to check on her peach cobbler. "That's lovely."
Dad turned on the TV. He smiled when we caught eyes over the peach cobbler Mom brought out for us, but I couldn't really read his face.
The whole thing seemed a little too easy, but I slept really well. In the morning, Mom asked me, "So I guess there's no chance of you and Chloe patching things up, then?"
"No. At least not romantically."
"Just thought I'd ask. I always loved her."
"You'll love Noah, too," I said.
Mom smiled. "I'm sure I will."
*
The new episode of West Van Confidential went live at seven a.m. When I got the notification from my podcast app, I was brushing my teeth.
Now Available: West Van Confidential #58 - Lions and Tigers and Rooftop Kisses, Oh My!
I snorted again at Marina's dumb title, but my stomach roiled a little. It was done. It was up.
Dad drove me in his work truck for the last time in my week of being grounded. I watched every kid walking on the sidewalk with earbuds in—were they listening to West Van Confidential?
From the minute I walked into the school, I knew the story was out. All eyes on me, everywhere I looked. Some wide and disbelieving, some curious and scruntinizing, some sparkling and friendly. I was used to people constantly coming up to me in the hallway about A/V club, student government, or fundraising shit, but that morning, no one did. All I got were a few shy hellos. Honestly, it was great.
The only greeting I really got came in the form of Noah sidling up next to me at my locker and nuzzling my shoulder.
"Good morning," I said.
"I love it when you talk dirty."
I laughed. "You're nuts."
"Mmm..."
I had to cover my mouth, I was laughing so hard. Noah leaned against the locker beside mine, looking very pleased with himself. Nathan Carney, whose locker Noah was leaning against, had to say "excuse me" three times before the words finally registered.
"Sorry!" he squeaked, shuffling out of the way.
Nathan shook his head as he opened his lock. "I'm happy for you guys and everything, but my locker likes its space."
"I'll never touch it again," Noah promised.
That was the only real opposition we faced all day. Everyone was lovely—either congratulating us, gently ribbing us, or just being extra friendly. At lunch, we went back up to the rooftop garden. It wasn't raining so there were other people there, but we found a spot semi-hidden behind some leafy plants and holed up on a bench. We kissed until we gasped for breath.
It was a nice day and I was thoroughly enjoying it, until I saw Chloe in the hall at one-thirty, before art class. She must have arrived partway through the schoolday, because on any other day I would have seen her a dozen times throughout the morning. Her makeup looked terrible. Her foundation was patchy, her eyeshadow looked like bruises, and her mascara had left marks on her bottom eyelid.
I wanted to talk to her, but every time I saw her, she was hurrying in the opposite direction. On purpose, it felt like.
Hey, I texted her during the last class of the day. When the bell rang, I still didn't have a reply. I let it go. She probably didn't want to hear from her ex on the day his shiny, new relationship was revealed to the whole world. Who would?
I just hoped that she was doing okay.
*
Noah sat in on the recording session that day—we recorded two hours of Starguild Adventures, Josiah's D&D podcast—and then we waited out front of the school, hanging onto every last moment before Dad came to pick me up and spirit me off into the weekend. I wrapped my arm loosely around Noah's waist, feeling tingly all over. The drizzling rain of the morning had stopped. Everything was fresh and damp and cool, the kind of weather that made you excited for fall.
"Monday is so far away," Noah sighed, leaning his head against my shoulder.
"But just think how awesome it'll be," I said. "I don't record on Monday, so after school we can do whatever we want."
"I can just imagine all the possibilities," he said.
I laughed. "Are you going to take me to L.A.? New York?"
"Wherever you want."
"How about we spin a globe," I said, "and close our eyes, and go wherever our fingers land?"
A slow grin spread over his face. "I like the way you think."
"Why, thank you, sir."
He kissed me once—his restraint was better than mine. "When's your dad getting here?" he asked. "I'm helping Mom with dinner tonight. Gotta start the prep soon."
"Go," I said. "I can wait by myself. I'm a big boy."
"You certainly are."
I swatted his arm, but of course that lead to him playfully shoving me, which in turn made me try to trap him in a headlock, which... well, however it happened, we ended up making out for a couple gorgeous minutes, until a few drops of rain splattered down onto our faces. We toughed it out for a moment, but soon it became obvious that it was another downpour, not just a few stray droplets.
"You should go," I said. "I'll wait undercover by the doors."
Noah squeezed my hand. "Okay. See you Monday?"
"See you Monday."
One more kiss and he was gone. I watched his back as he walked around to the student parking lot, and when he swooped the Edison through the drop-off loop, I blew him a kiss as he sped out to the street. Long after he'd gone, I had a big, goofy grin lingering on my face.
It faded the longer I waited for Dad, though. Soon it was four-fifty. He was twenty minutes late.
Riley: Hey, you coming to get me?
Dad: Truck won't start. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong but I have no idea.
Riley: Uh oh.
Dad: I'm going to have to call for a tow. I think it'll be faster if you walk home.
Ugh.
It was a half hour walk. I took a deep breath, pulled up my hood, and ventured out into the rain.
I kept my head down to keep the worst of it off my face, but water from the road splashed up my legs and rain pounded down from above. Within minutes I was just as soaked as Noah and I had been up on the rooftop, except it sucked and it wasn't fun at all. The only thing I could think about was the hot shower and dry pyjamas that awaited me at home. Every step took me closer.
I didn't expect a car to pull over and offer me a ride. This was West Van—no one would invite a soaking wet stranger into their luxury car. But a green Subaru station wagon did pull up alongside me. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal Ms. Warren, grinning.
"Get in, Ry," she said.
I opened the door and slid inside. Ms. Warren took off, turning the wrong way up the mountain. She didn't even ask where I was going.
"Uh, I live down on Mathers Place," I said. "It's kind of an annoying detour, but you'll have to go down Taylor Way to—"
"I'll take you home, I promise. First, we need to talk."
"Talk?" I asked, bewildered. "What about? Can't we just talk at school?"
She shook her head. "I'll tell you when we get to a nice, quiet place. Far from prying eyes."
We drove up to a Cypress Mountain lookout, one Chloe and I used to frequent. On that rainy afternoon, with the city view obscured by gray mist and clouds, there was no one else there. My heart hammered as Ms. Warren cut the car's engine. She turned in her seat, pulling her legs up and crossing them. In her paint-splattered overalls and flannel shirt, she looked more than ever like an old teenager.
"I'm afraid I haven't been completely truthful with you about my occupation," she said. "I'm also employed by the WIA—the World Intelligence Agency."
She didn't have to tell me what it stood for. Action movies and conspiracy theorists had taught me all about it. I waited for her to crack a smile, but she didn't.
"Seriously?" I asked. "You're seriously a WIA agent?"
"We're technically called officers," she said. "But yes, I'm a WIA field operative."
"Is your name actually Cheryl Warren?"
She smiled. "Yes. And I'm a qualified art teacher, too. The WIA thing is, like, my side hustle."
"The fuck," I muttered. "Okay, why are you telling me this?"
"The WIA is interested in Temptr," she said. "They're interested in how the business works. What it does with its data. Above all, we're interested in Decker Lord. I know you're aware of all the questions that surround him."
I nodded.
"For a long time now, we've been trying to recruit an asset who can get close to him. We've been watching the Lord family as closely as we can, but so far we've had no success finding a way in. Until you. You should be honored," she said. "None of the Lords care much for outsiders. You're a major exception."
Because Temptr is real, I thought. I'm Noah's predestined exception.
"What do you want me to do, exactly?"
"We want you to get close to Decker Lord," Ms. Warren said. "We know Noah has invited you for dinner next week. Ensure that goes well, and try to make it a regular thing. Integrate yourself into the Lord family."
"That's already what I'm trying to do," I said.
"Then you're exactly who we need." She smiled, creases showing by her eyes. "All we need from you is permission to record remotely from your mobile device."
I wasn't sure about that. Going into someone's home—especially my boyfriend's family's home—with my phone recording everything seemed sacriligious. And if they were listening to everything going on within recording distance of my phone, that meant the WIA listening in on Noah and I. I didn't like that idea at all.
And what if they found out about Noah's car? I remembered how strongly he urged me never to tell.
"Can't I just tell you what I find out?"
Ms. Warren shook her head. "We need evidence, in case this ends up in court."
I sighed. "I don't know."
Ms. Warren sighed and looked back out over the foggy city. A few downtown skyscrapers poked out of the clouds.
"In the time you've spent with Noah, have you seen anything strange?"
That felt like a test. I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Have you seen anything you couldn't explain? Technology you've never seen before, for instance. Technology you wouldn't want to fall into enemy hands. Technology that, if you didn't know any better, you'd say was magical."
"Magical?" I laughed, but I knew immediately that it sounded hollow. "I'm sure lots of things we have today would have seemed magical to people just a couple decades ago. It's all relative, isn't it?"
I sounded like a moron, and I knew she wasn't buying it. They knew something. Images of Noah's prototype Edison flashed through my mind—gliding through the air, turning invisible, spiriting us hundreds of miles faster than a commercial jet. I remembered the instantaneous certainty I felt when I saw Noah's name come up on Temptr.
"Temptr is pretty magical, isn't it?" she asked.
My stomach almost bottomed out, but I had a hundred anti-Temptr rhetorical tricks up my sleeve. I was a pro.
"If Temptr told you your true love lived at the bottom of the cliff, would you jump?"
"Riley, you can drop the act with me." She leaned forward. "I know it's real, okay? I know you know, too. I can't imagine what you must have gone through lately. You were so invested in being anti-Temptr, so finding out it's real must be a huge change to adapt to. It's hard when you have to adjust your whole worldview like that. Like when I left the Catholic church."
"Changing was easy," I said slowly. "It's the consequences of the change that have been a little hard to deal with."
"I bet Noah's worth it, though."
I nodded, and then I wanted to slap myself. She had just gotten me to admit that Noah is my match. Fuck.
"We're only interested in Decker Lord, his technology, and his business practices. We realize it could be awkward to work against your boyfriend's father, but they'll never know you're recording. Our program runs in the background of your phone. You'll forget you're even doing it."
"I don't think that's possible."
"I know you're curious, Riley. You're going to dive in anyway. Why not let us back you up?"
She had me with that. Decker Lord was powerful. Knowing I had power on my side made me feel immediate relief.
Still...
"I have one condition," I said.
"What's that?"
"Whatever you're looking for on his dad... please leave Noah alone."
"We're only interested in him as a conduit to his dad," she said. "I promise."
I nodded. "Then I'll do it."
Ms. Warren held out her hand. "Give me your phone."
She installed an app on my phone and gave me instructions on how to begin recording, and advised me to start recording early, so I wasn't fiddling with my phone suspiciously immediately after entering the Lord home. They told me to record every time I went to their house with Decker Lord present, but that I wasn't required to record if I was just hanging out with Noah alone.
"We'll be in touch," she said, handing my phone back, after briefing me on all of this.
"Can you give me a ride the next time I'm stranded in the rain?" I joked.
She laughed. "We'll get you stranded whenever we need to talk to you."
It was only after they had dropped me off at the bottom of Mathers Place that I realized that the WIA were the reason my dad's truck hadn't started, and therefore the reason he had to have it towed. Bastards.
Riley: I'm home now, Dad. Did you get the truck towed? Need me to come pick you up?
Dad: Funny thing. The tow truck driver and I troubleshooted it and managed to get it going. Crazy how one little plug can fuck the whole thing up.
Or one little intelligence agency, I thought. I shivered at that.
One little intelligence agency could really fuck the whole thing up.