end of story- I don't end these tidily enough.
Ryder was feeling very sorry for himself. The others were on the forecourt soaking up the sun and arguing about movies. From the shop he could hear Hamilton talking.
"-that bad 80s matinee they showed last Saturday?"
"Bad. Eighties. Tautological" murmured Will.
"You are the only people I know" Scout said "who would think that's a date movie."
"Oh come on, don't you think the Kid looks like Jake?"
That stopped everyone in their tracks. They looked closely at Jake. Poker faced, she did the gesture. "Wax on, wax off."
Scout and Will cracked up.
"You could try and back me up here" Ham complained to his best friend.
Her reply was drowned by Scout, who turned out to have shamelessly sentimental taste in film. Or was he trying to rack up brownie points with Bella? "Big girl's blouse" Ryder muttered.
Ryder felt like he wasn't alone in the room any more. He looked over his shoulder. Grace had got back. Whatever breakthrough she had hoped for with her mom hadn't happened. "You all right?"
"Shut up."
"Only asking." She looked as depressed as he usually felt. He turned back to stare gloomily out the window again.
"When are you going to come clean with them?"
"What?" What was she on about?
"I asked Joe what's going on, you know."
He gave Grace his attention.
"After the party. They don't know yet, but it's a matter of time before they find out." Grace dragged a kitchen chair noisily across the tile floor and flopped down in it. "You should be glad."
"Glad," he said flatly. What had Joe told her? Clearly, not the truth.
"You said-" Grace was disconcerting him now "-that the guys at Rawley just saw you as Generic English Guy. And if you were cranky, that was English. And if you were bad at French, that was English. And if you were blond, English people were blond. Like you're representative."
This was bunny boiler stuff. "You know, I don't pay this close attention to the bilge I spout.. by the way, love the way you paraphrased idiosyncracy - too big a word for a Yank?"
Grace gave him the finger.
Ryder smirked.
"They can't see this thing as a national trait."
"And yet I'm not rushing to claim my identity as a head case. Strangely."
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself."
Grace might be good for me, Ryder thought. In an unpleasant, cough medicine, way. "That's rather the point of being depressive."
"Don't you have stuff you can take?"
A very practical thought. "Baz took it. He thought it was recreational." Ryder grinned like a shark. "I hope he liked it."
"He probably sold it on. Prozac?"
"Ah, lithium." He'd been enjoying the thought of Baz getting the shaking hands and hyperactive bladder. There'd been plenty of pills there; he'd been skipping dosages. It didn't seem so urgent when he was on an up, which he had been - until the beating. "You're raining on my parade again."
Grace shrugged. And that was another thing.
"Don't you mind, knowing about this?"
"You have mood swings." Grace rolled her eyes. "I knew that already. Because, like, I've met you." She added seriously "You were stupid keeping this a secret."
"I'm so grateful for your advice." She was three years younger than him, and the furthest she'd ever been was sodding Carson, and what did she know about this? Come to think of it, what did she know? "So, you're an expert now."
"Nooo." She drew out the negative. "I went on the net this morning. I read some things."
"I'm moved. No, really. You tore yourself away from the diCaprio fansites and based on a quarter hour's surfing - shouldn't you have been scraping vegetables with big sis? - you're all set to tell me how it is-"
"Why won't you look at me?" He had been watching Bella and her friends all through this.
"If any of that lot come in here, this conversation ends. Got that?"
"They won't. Okay then. Tell me how it is." Grace assumed an aggressively listening attitude.
"Grace. Let me put this in simple words for you. You're intruding."
She could cheerfully have hit him. The "Grace Banks plays Mother Teresa" show came to town rarely enough - he could try to be polite in return. This morning, her own mother had advised her to dump him. Donna had said "Honey, you only have one life-" but Grace was trying to make this work, damn it. It was hard to see, through the personal cloud of misery, the guy she'd watched from a distance, energetic, the centre of a crowd, making everyone laugh. That guy had been cute. She'd wanted to be with him, and now she got to be with his evil twin. There were times when she believed Bella's theory about the Townie curse.
"Look. This should be going better." He was acutely aware that he wasn't a lot of laughs right now. He was starting to like Grace, over the last few days. He wanted to impress her. "I'm not exactly Mr Life and Soul-"
Grace snorted. Caroline Busse would never have snorted. Caroline Busse wasn't big on facial expression or messy emotions either.
"Yeah, well." He heard himself say "I'll make it up to you. This goes in cycles. It'll be better."
Grace said "You need to get help."
Scout took a lot of persuading. He was certain they'd be caught breaking into the room. Will's ability to pick locks in itself continued to freak him out. Now, he found out that Hamilton could get into any part of the school.
"You're all delinquents. Explain to me why we plan getting involved with Ryder anyway."
"Good point." Hamilton was with him on this one. Ham hated Ryder, and, surely, he'd mentioned this. Like, several times.
"We're involved already. Remember Grace?" Will led the other three down the corridor to Ryder's room. Grace had dragged Ryder off to Carson for the rest of Sunday.
"Those two are weird together." All the way back to school, Scout had been telling Will what he thought of Grace and Ryder. Will had listened carefully, only interrupting to check whether Scout had been this frank to Bella about her baby sister. Because Bella felt she had a monopoly on bitching about Grace.
Jake agreed with Scout about the weird of it all. "Grace and Ryder - they're like a nest of baby vipers. You don't know whether to go Aww or Ew."
Scout now pulled Jake well back while Ham worked on the lock. "If anyone shows, you get out of here" he told her. She nodded once; the last thing she needed was official attention.
The door swung open.
"You keep an eye on the door, Scout." Will and Hamilton turned over the room. Ham knew all the nooks and crannies. He'd played in the empty dorms when he was little. They sniggered when they found Buffy DVDs under the bed.
Jake had slid straight into a chair in front of the computer. It was harder than she expected to find her way in. "He's good. He might be a hacker."
Hamilton started coughing from the dust on top of the wardrobe.
"What are his bookmarks?" Will wanted to know. The credit card statements in his hands mapped a spending spree a couple of months ago. Maybe that explained the money problems now.
"I haven't got in yet."
Will's brows went up. If viagra spam could find it's way into every inbox in the world, surely Jake could get in here. Jake was good. Hamilton kept telling him so. "You haven't?" he repeated.
Ham jumped down from the chair he was standing on and went to hover behind Jake. He picked up a sheet of A4 covered with Jake's scrawl. "What's this?"
"I was working on passwords he might use."
Hamilton read the words thoughtfully. "This is what we think of him. Not how he sees himself ..what's this one?"
Jake arched back to see. "His mom's maiden name (off the school records)."
"Clerihew?"
Jake looked grumpy. "Cross it out."
"It didn't work, then." Will knew Ryder thought a lot of his mother. But then, who at this school didn't have parent issues?
"It has to be eight letters."
"Try Flashman. There's a series of books here." They looked much read. Will always checked out other people's bookcases. It was like a minor compulsion.
Jake typed, and shook her head.
"Try debonair."
Everyone stared at Hamilton.
"Mom called him that once. It stuck in my mind."
"It would" Will confirmed.
N.E.S.O.M.E. Jake typed. She burst out "Yes! Here it is."
"You got in on debonair??" Will blurted.
"Nah, something Ham said. About Ryder's self image being different from how we think of him. I had to get inside his head."
Hamilton grunted. Jake inside Ryder's head, ugh.
"Nice, clean homepage" Jake commented. "Hey, it is.. he's got a weblog."
Scout left the door. "Let's take a look."
(Ham thought it was ironic, really. Mostly, they wanted Ryder to shut up. A couple of days ago Ryder had said something typically malignant. Hamilton had told him to shut up then.
Ryder'd grinned lazily. "Ah, Fleming. You're so uncomplicated." Grace had sighed "Oh say that again. That accent is so cute." Ryder'd peered at her, astonished. "Does she listen to the content of anything I say?" "Not a word." After a beat, Will'd added "Sensible girl." Bella had delivered the final snub. "The rest of us listen to what you say. The rest of us dislike you.")
He had quietened that time. Now here they were, struggling to connect with his journal. They watched the page load.
"You know" Jake said "he's bookmarked the Rawley database. I think he may have altered the school records. Like I did."
Scout's jaw dropped. "Ryder's a girl?"
Today I talked to Mum. It was
awkward. Both uncomfortable, but, feel
good about it now. She is really thinking
about me. Got to remember that. Mum thinks
it is like being flayed. No skin to
protect from input, "sitting around in raw
nerve endings" Good phrase, but. Not how
it feels. More, sense of absolute conviction
that any criticism of you is justified. No
denial of the Truth of own worthlessness. No
excueses no case for the defence even in own
mind. Despicable. Positive input, compliments
flattery. That's what it is, flattery. Out of
charity, out of self interest, out of lies. I
Know this is unbalanced. Mum keeps buying
trite self help books. I read them. I
understand them. I just don't get them. She
doesn't give them to me directly, shes too
discreet. I find them on my bookshelves,
tucked between Saki and Barry Hughart.
deleted entry
deleted entry
Utter, weary, sense of self contempt. Yeah.
This is a low. No point writing
deleted entry
"Self obsessed much?" Will said.
"Uh, don't you keep a journal?" Scout knew Will did. It lived in their sock drawer.
"Yeah, but mine isn't Me Me Me." Will was surprised that his friends would assume it was. "It's a writing exercise. It's about all of us."
Hamilton looked alarmed. "What kind of stuff?" He meant, was it incriminating. He and Jake caught each other's eye.
"I'm not a narc" Will quoted. It was a statement Hamilton managed to work in almost every time he introduced himself to someone new. "It's a writing exercise." When he said that, Scout usually lost interest.
"If someone found your diary.." Scout couldn't help saying. He'd been raised to be Teflon Boy. His family would be so down on him if he did wrong and left tracks. Time was, Scout thought, consciously disillusioned and rather admiring himself in the pose, when he'd've thought his Dad minded the doing wrong worst. He was older now.
That day with the car and the letter: was there a hope in hell Will hadn't exercised writing on that incident? Scout frowned, his expression echoing the lines Hamilton was reading off the screen.
Wooster was frowning. Like pulling
his eyebrows together would make his
brain to focus, and, what kind of idiot
superstition is that?
Wooster?" Will queried.
"There's a line in quote marks. I think it's from a book: In the presence of the unusual, Mr Wooster is too prone to smile weakly and allow his eyes to protrude."
"Wooster?" Will repeated.
"He has nicknames in here for everyone" Jake said. She was hunched up and tense. She confirmed what he had been worried about. "You're Jeeves."
"You?"
"K9."
Was Ryder saying Jake was a dog?
"Apparently, on account of my being gay and an IT-geek, I'm a shoo-in Dr Who fan."
Still by Jake, Hamilton started to rub the tension out of her shoulders. "I like dogs" he announced.
"Stop before you dig yourself any deeper" Jake told him flatly but without rancour.
"I'm Wooster?" Scout caught on, indignantly.
Will supposed they were all suffering equally. He wanted to be sure, though. "What's Hamilton?"
"Himbo."
Ham's fingers dug more deeply into Jake's back.
Will and Scout left Ryder's dorm, still grumbling quietly to each other. Ham watched them down the hallway, hovering in the door, eager to be gone. "..Jake?"
"Gimme a minute."
He sighed heavily. Of course. She'd have to cover her traces electronically, or something. Computers totally weren't his thing. "At least we know what to do now."
"We do?" Jake twisted to look at him.
"Well. It's obvious."
"And, uh, obviously..?"
Hamilton stared. How could she not get it. "We have to tell my dad."
Jake processed that. - "We have to tell my dad." He said that so easily. Like it didn't need thinking twice about - Ryder's life was as full of secrets and lies as her own, and she had no idea what his reasons were. Ham's personal dislike was probably pushing him to derail Ryder, all while telling himself he was being moral. "What happened to "I'm not a narc"?"
"Jake, man, this is serious."
"It's Ryder's life. He should get to decide." - and yeah, you patronising preppie, I know it's serious - she thought.
"Not if he's crazy."
"Define crazy. 'Cause I'm starting to think, anything outside of your little white bread New England bourgeois existance, like, oh say, messing with gender roles -" Jake's voice halted. She was showing her insecurity way too clearly. It was just, Hamilton seemed so aggressively normal sometimes. She was always alert for him to get freaked out again. Like he had when they first met.
Ham looked confused. "This isn't about you."
It was a really bad time to hear Ryder's voice from the stairwell. Jake killed the computer fast and messily, then hurled herself after Hamilton into the closet. They held themselves as far from each other as possible, tense.
"..and keep your voice down." Ryder's words were discernable once he got into his room.
"Yeah, right, god." That was definitely Grace. "You'd think I'd never been in a Rawley dorm before."
"Slu-" Thwap. "-aaah!"
"You deserved that." The sound of Grace - Ryder was still presumably on the floor - wandering the room, idly picking over the contents.
"You knee'd me."
"Don't be such a big baby. What's this?"
"It's a mobile phone you peasant." Ryder must still be sore.
"Ooh. Photo messaging. And a little radio."
"Maybe I could hock it." A beat, then Ryder added defensively "Baz is still after me for cash."
"Wonder who it belongs to?" A series of blips as Grace played with the buttons. "Huh, here's the address book."
"Expecting to recognise anybody?" Ryder asked dourly. "Wait, what are you doing?"
"Phoning "Dad." Whoever that is.. Hello? No, I'm not Scout. No, I'm not dating Scout. Who, may I ask, is interrogating me? Oh. Wrong number.. It's Scout's phone."
"Thanks Sherlock. Actually, I knew that. Any idea where I can get a good price for it?"
"You could give it back to Scout?"
"He's unlikely to pay me. Look, I realise you have the attention span of a koi carp, but remember: Baz? the blackmail thing?"
"If you weren't trying to keep being bipolar a secret, Baz wouldn't have anything on you. Tell the school."
Hamilton nudged Jake. This echoed what he'd said. Nyahhh.
- yeah. Grace Banks is arguing your case - She was unimpressed.
"I can handle this."
"Are you thinking you're blending in right now?" Derisively.
- Grace sneers as well as Ryder does - Jake saw Ham lean on the back wall of the wardrobe and smirk.
"I'm doin' all right."
Grace snorted.
"Grace is cool" Ham mumbled to Jake, fanboy-ing a bit.
"What is your problem with telling the school?"
"I don't want pity and I don't want sympathy."
"Well, you didn't get them from me" Grace pointed out bracingly. "Anyhow, Bella says, most of them don't like you."
"God, Grace-"
"What? A lot of girls at Edmund High don't like me either."
"Could it be the tact issue?"
"Naah, they're just boring." Grace moved back on topic. "So, just tell the staff. Will says Finn is a good guy."
Ryder made elaborate gagging noises. "Finn, christ, no. Why should I?"
"You'll look cooler if you tell them than if I do."
"Grace-"
Inside the wardrobe, Ham was punching the air. "Grace rocks."
"Shut up Ham." Jake held a finger to her mouth.
"Another reason.." Grace said slowly.
"Where are you going?" Ryder watched her cross the room, puzzled.
"..it's not a secret anymore." Grace wrenched the cupboard door open. "What the fuck are you guys doing here?"
"You know, girls aren't supposed to be in the dorms" Ham said defensively.
Jake, already diving for the exit, froze. She was impressed by Ham's chutzpah. Was he going to claim this was a Dean's initiative, stationing Flemings in random nooks to police the school? Mrs F would be hiring a suit of armour that wouldn't flatten her curls, and the Dean would be suspended upside down from a chandelier in Study Hall, taking notes on absentees. She caught Ryder's eye. He was making a fist.
Ham saw the fist, too. "Don't hit Jake!" He pulled his girlfriend aside.
"Give me a reason." The last time Jake had heard anyone that silkily pissed off, it was Alan Rickman. It sounded more fun on-screen.
"I agree with Grace" Ham said.
- no, Ham, no, no. Arguing's not gonna cool him down - Jake wailed inside her head.
"No, really. You should tell Dad. You should be taking stuff." Ham was still talking.
Two steps would get her to the door, Jake calculated. Hopefully, she'd be out before Ham used the word "crazy."
"You need support" Ham concluded.
"From you, pouf?"
"God, no." Ham was not up for that.
"We can't stand you." Jake reassured the Brit. She got a grip on her boyfriend's arm and tugged him toward the door. She ran into Grace.
Grace said "You haven't explained. What are you doing here?"
"Uh, Bella sent us to find out what the deal was with Baz. You do know Joe isn't after you anymore?" Jake checked Ryder's reaction to the last statement.
Ryder relaxed his fist. "He's not?"
"Will spoke to him" Ham explained. Will hadn't, yet, but that was the plan. "Will and Bella want to protect Grace's boyfriend."
Grace smirked.
- of course, the minute he breaks up with Grace, it's open season on him - Jake wondered if that was clear to Ryder yet. She saw Ham retrieve Scout's phone while Ryder thought this over.
"What about Baz?" Ryder asked abruptly, not thanking them.
"You're welcome" Hamilton said drily. "The four of us can make Baz think the school already knows. He'll never find out different."
Ryder nodded and choked out a "Thanks."
Jake eased the door open.
Ham looked at her unhappily. "I'm gonna tell my Dad. It's the right thing to do."
The way Ham was telling Jake, not him, it took Ryder a minute to understand this was about him. "You're full of amusing news for your parents, aren't you? Is honesty addictive?"
"I haven't found it that way." For whatever reason, Jake looked as hacked off as Ryder felt. He hadn't time to think about what that might mean. Inside his head he was scrambling for a way to play Pratt off against Fleming. There had to be a way to do it.
"Baby, I've got to-" Fleming was talking like this was between him and Jake.
"No you don't." Bless Grace, Ryder thought, bad tempered and unsentimental. "You've got to give him the chance to tell the Dean himself."
Ham looked at his watch. "He'll be in his office for the next hour. (Smoking's a filthy habit.)"
"The condemned man gets a last cigarette." Ryder slouched off to do the last thing he wanted to do.
END