Chapter Six:

All In a Day's Work

Lakeda's eyes were slowly becoming heavy. She was sitting on the train at 5:35 AM, heading home from a long night shift. She was exhausted and she just wanted to go home and sleep the day away. The trains were usually empty at this time of morning, with a few exceptions of fellow mons who had the late shift or ones who had an extremely early shift. The trains were decorated with graffiti, with dull lights not made for true practical use. Her bag was beside her and Lakeda held it close, trying her damned hardest not to fall asleep on the way home. Her job at the industrial plant was exhausting: trying to power generators was no easy task. She worked hard, but she just wanted to…sleep forever. Now turning forty-six in a month, Lakeda wondered what a flawless life would be. When the train reached her stop she stepped off onto the eerily empty platform. She slung her bag around her shoulder and made her way up the subway stairs and out into the street. It was still dark, with hints of a sunrise peeking over a shadowed horizon.

She smelled the air: it was raining a few hours ago. The humidity in the air and the puddles on the street made her skittish, but she continued on. She wore a brown maxi skirt, flats and an off the shoulder top that looked nice against her sizable bust. Her curly yellow and white hair was out, a lovely downward afro that grew past her shoulders. It was four blocks to the Section-77 housing. Another day, she thought as she walked past the corner store, past the liquor store and the laundry mat. There was almost nobody out here, but the few people that were, stared at her, catcalling and whistling as she walked by. She ignored it and continued on, heading home. As she did, she saw X-Large sitting outside his stoop—up unusually early. He was sitting alone, taking a pull of his cigarette. Typically, Lakeda ignored the hood niggas out here, but X-Large was in his late 30s, not like these other young cats, who were too wild for her tastes. She decided to walk over to him, giving him a tired smile.

"Morning," he said, scooting over to give her room to sit. Lakeda plopped down next to him, pulling out her own cigarette. He lit it for her and she took a short drag, letting the relaxing feel of the mild high flow through her body and lungs. X-Large took a drag and leaned over,

"Long night, eh?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Lakeda said, wanting to just sleep.

"Yeah," X-Large said, "It's rough."

She nodded and X got up, offering his hand. She took it, following him inside his house. He lived in a humble home—bare walls, basic essentials, nothing flashy. The flashiness was saved for his clothes, jewelry and cars. He kept his home looking minimalistic, comfortable, and very clean. She took off her shoes and went on the couch, laying down.

"You rest," he said, "Ima cook up some breakfast. You like oatmeal or Johto Toast?"

"Toast," Lakeda said, between yawns, resting her head on the cushion. X-Large nodded, reaching into his fridge, taking out two large slices of bread. He buttered both sides and sprinkled sea salt, powdered sugar, cardamom and nutmeg on it. He placed a skillet on the stove and lit it with a match, pouring some corn oil, letting it sizzle a bit before placing the bread in. When he did, he let either side sit for three minutes, until it was a deep golden brown. He finished up with some syrup and brewed a cup of hibiscus tea. Lakeda sat up, yawning a bit, seeing that he finished making breakfast and placed it on the portable pull out table that was in his old-fashioned living room. She smiled at him, sipping the tea. Her ears drooped in comfort and her cheeks blushed as the tea warmed up her insides. X lit a new cigarette and sat next to her, leaning back against the couch as she drank up the tea.

"I…need a break," Lakeda said, "I…just really need a break."

"Yeah, I feel you, La," X said, sympathetic, "Sometimes I need a break from trapping, but be what it be, ya feel me?"

Lakeda chuckled a bit, "I didn't think you knew how to cook anything but crack."

"Ay, I'm a nigga of many talents."

She took a bite of the toast and made a delightful "mmmm" sound, "Niggas' talents these days is being trifling, slanging dope or getting into fights. I should know: married one of them types."

"Don't worry about all that fu-fu shit," X-Large insisted, "I'm a real nigga. All these young cats new to the trapping game, they get a big head real fast cuz they see a lil' bit of bread come in. Nah, I'm used to it. I live simple but I flex hard body, Lay. Believe me, I ain't like the others."

Lakeda took another bite, "You got ice on yo wrist because you live simple?"

X grinned at her, "Sometimes you gotta stunt, just a lil, yea?"

"Nigga please," Lakeda scoffed, laughing. X shrugged and took one more drag of his cigarette.

"I know I ain't the first nigga to say this but you finer than a motherfucker and you thick too," he said. Lakeda raised an eyebrow and laughed a little.

"You ain't, you right," she said.

"But lemme holla for a second, you real nice too. Ion ever see you around no more, Lay. I like kicking it with you, just all friendly like, ya dig?"

"Yeah well…work been kicking my ass," Lakeda said, finishing up the toast and taking a puff of a new cigarette.

"Well spend the day here."

"I got kids, Clarence," Lakeda said, petting his head, scratching behind his ear, "I can't just blow shit off."

"Sure you can. Just text 'em, tell 'em you chilling. You need a break, yeah? Spend the day chilling here. I ain't selling nothing no ways today."

Lakeda considered it and smiled, taking out her smartphone. She texted both Strika and Jazmin and then set her phone down. X got up to pour himself a bowl of Cap Crunch and tossed her the remote, telling her to play whatever she wanted. Lakeda curled up in the couch and did exactly that.

I need to rest.

And I need some fun.

Need to find myself, running wild and free.

"Yeah," she said to herself, lying down on the cushion and putting something light and funny on to watch. X-Large sat next to her, chowing down on his sugary cereal, savoring each bite. Lakeda smiled, watching some old-timey cartoons she used to laugh at in her childhood.

"How's yo kids?" X inquired, setting the bowl down on the pull out table for a second to preen his hair.

"Ah…you know," she sat up, leaning against him, "Kids. They good kids but this place…ain't that good for them."

"I feel you."

"I grew up in Los Lados," Lakeda began, "My mom was a Jolteon too. My dad was always working, barely around. Had five siblings and I'm the only one who survived."

"Shit…that sounds rough."

Lakeda shrugged, "They got into wild shit. I tried not to. I don't want Jazmin or Strika getting into any wild shit. But this job…ugh…its fucking killing me. I can't watch em like I used to."

There was a small pause and Lakeda turned her ears, listening around, "How's your kid?"

"With his moms," X-Large said, going back to eating his cereal, "He ain't built to be out here. The real nigga life ain't for him."

"Don't your son wanna be a rapper?"

"He's only six, he don't know what he wants," X-Large insisted.

There was some silence again and he finished his cereal in the quiet. When he did, he popped in some gum and rubbed Lakeda's arm. She purred a little, leaning into his chest. His body was warm. He took that as a queue to lean in and kiss her. She kissed back, deeply, pressing her body against his, feeling his heartbeat reverberate against her. He slid his hand underneath her skirt, squeezing her backside as his other hand cupped a breast. Once he began massaging she groaned and allowed him to lay her on her back on the couch. She slid off his tank top, trailing neatly manicured nails against scars on his chest and abdomen. He then undid her skirt, allowing her to wrap her legs around him as unzipped his fly. He entered her, giving a low grunt as he did, into the side of her neck. She let out a soft moan as he started slowly, but gained momentum over time, feeling her breasts beginning to shake as he became more forceful. He put his mouth on a nipple, tonguing it as he squeezed the other, moving his hips rhythmically as he went all in, deep into her. She moaned again, her brown eyes turning a phosphorescent gold as the lights in his den began to flicker. He closed his eyes, focusing on his rhythm as he moved his hands to her wide hips, holding her in place. As he felt his orgasm approaching, he sped up, burying his face into her breasts and letting out a low, rumbling grunt. He quickly pulled out and came on her stomach and chest. Lakeda hummed a little, feeling light-headed and happy as X-Large without a second thought went down on her.

I needed this, she thought, leaning her head back as he went to town.

Jazmin made up her mind that she would cut school today. Strika had come home, looking banged up. He definitely wasn't going to school today either and Lakeda was running late and so, she thought this would be the perfect opportunity to play hooky. She slipped on a pair of blue biker shorts and an orange crop top and re-braided her hair into two, long braids. She did her edges once more and this time wore some modest sized hoops. She slipped on her kicks, grabbed her backpack and left the apartment, darting for the elevator that was about to close. Inside was Ms. Loom, their elderly neighbor of Breloom-lineage. She smiled at her, giving her a soft, quick hi and got out at lobby floor, running through the door and out into the street. She turned on her smartphone and clicked Portia's contact, calling her. After three or four rings, Portia eventually answered.

"Hi! I'm getting ready."

"Alright! I'll meet you at the library then," Jazmin said, hanging up. She waited for the bus and popped in her headphones, tapping her foot in nervous anticipation. When the bus arrived, she got on, swiping her metro-card and heading to the back, where she normally sat. She leaned against the inner wall, looking out the window, watching people get on and off the bus. I ain't dealing with none of them niggas today, she thought, lightly bobbing her head to the music. She swiped through her smartphone, checking social media, her newsfeed and reading unread texts she had. When the bus reached a block from her destination she pulled on the yellow string that hung from the side of the window, requesting a stop. She picked up her backpack and slinging it back around her. When the bus pulled up to the library she got up, shouting "back door," and got off when the doors slid open. She jumped out in one fluid motion and jogged over to Los Lados Local Library.

It was not an impressive library.

In fact, it was rather small and the outside was covered with graffiti. The ramp that lead to the entrance was surrounded in litter and a few heroin needles. The double doors had gum stuck between the handle and with that, Jazmin carefully pulled it open. She squirted sanitizer on her hand after she got through the lobby. It was fairly empty today, with just a few local elders sitting around the computers. She sat by a computer, turning it on, waiting for Portia to arrive. As the slow ass dinosaur of a computer began to boot up, Portia walked through the door. She was dressed in a blue pleated skirt, rhinestone studded flats and a cute white ruffled top. She always looked cute and fashionable. Jazmin smiled but then quickly frowned when she saw Zanny coming in after her, dressed in sagging skinny jeans, combat boots and a black t-shirt and vest. Jazmin mouthed "what the fuck," at Portia who gave her sheepish shrug in response.

"Ay Jazzy Jolt," Zanny greeted, lighting a cigarette.

"AHEM!"

The librarian pointed at the no smoking sign, glaring at Zanny. He sighed and put out his cigarette, sucking his teeth.

"What the hell," Jazmin whispered, pulling Portia aside, "You told him?"

"I didn't tell him what happened. I just said we going to the library and he wanted to come."

"Y'all two dating now or something?"

Portia gave her a quick shrug and Jazmin groaned, going back around the computer. She had to be slick with this now.

"So…why we here," Zanny said.

"Looking up info on Mr. Roak," Jazmin said, "I…uh…don't like that nigga. Gonna find where he lives and rob him."

"Hell fucking yeah," Zanny said excited, "Fuck that nigga! He gave me an F."

"Yeah cuz you never came to class," Portia reminded him.

"Bih I'm trapping—I ain't got time for all that fu-fu shit."

Jazmin searched his full name, Kit Roak, scrolling through the one hundred thousand results that came up. Soon, she found him on social media. I couldn't find this shit on the smartphone…why is it so hard to find this nigga…?

"That's his address—" Portia said, pointing at the screen, "He lives in 250 Long Lane, Brightwater."

"Bruh…that's kinda far," Zanny said, looking unsure.

"It's outside Los Lados that's for sure. Why the fuck is he teaching here if he lives in Brightwater?"

"Brightwater got a high school?"

Jazmin nodded, "Yeah, it do. You'd think the nigga would teach at his zoned school and not all the way out here in shitty ass Los Lados. Brightwater is upper-middle class as fuck, bruh."

"I'll order a Drop," Zanny said, "I gotchu."

"That's like fifty bucks from here to Brightwater."

Zanny scoffed, "Tch...that ain't shit. Get yo money up, hon." He pulled out his phone and ordered a Drop to their location. When it connected, Zanny grinned at the both of them.

"Three minutes 'til our driver here."

Jazmin wrote down the address, cleared the history and logged off. She picked up her backpack and headed outside, with Portia and Zanny following. Soon enough, a silver car pulled up, with a young man of Dragonite descent driving. Zanny opened the door for Portia and Jazmin then got in last.

"Hi—uh, Zanny?"

"Yeah," he said, "That's me."

"…Alright then," the driver said, pulling off. Brightwater was a thirty minute drive, but it would take an hour on the bus or train. As he drove, Jazmin looked out the window as Portia looked on her phone, sitting in the center. What will we find? She asked herself. We so caught up in this…daily shit…I never noticed was going on. I should've talked to her instead of thinking she was some loner weird-ass. And now she's dead cuz I didn't follow her. She groaned inwardly. She watched the world around her shift—from a rundown hood to a clean highway that was sparsely decorated with traffic. The driver played some music that seemed to eerily suit the mood. Jazmin listened to it, feeling her heart sink.

"You know we old souls, when we get on the roll…"

Jazmin looked at Portia who was holding Zanny's hand, confirming they were together. He was a nice dude when he wasn't scrapping in the hallways or selling pills to seniors.

"My nigga is tripping off that shit…lives these days just be lit…"

The driver got off at Exit 30, merging into one lane and heading into the local streets. They were outside of Los Lados and the difference was striking. It was clean, there was no graffiti, no litter and people were not lounging around outside, aimless and meandering as if they lost hope. People here were heading to work at an office or some sort of white collar job. Portia looked envious as she took in the surroundings, but Zanny simply saw potential—new customers with stressful lives who would need some uppers.

"Don't gotta leave, just give me more time, we here together for this ride…"

The driver cruised easily down the street without running into any cops. The police were always crawling around Los Lados and there had been a sense of alienation from the LLPD and the civilians.

"No more tolerance for this type of shit…"

Jazmin saw that most of the people here were fair skinned, dressed very clean cut, nothing glamorous or tacky. She wrinkled her nose and wondered why the delineation was so clear, so obvious…and so jarring.

"Don't gotta leave me, just do it more, baby"

The driver pulled into a cul-de-sac that held huge, lovely houses—all suburban in flavor and design.

"We're here," he informed.

"Good looks," Zanny said, getting out the car with Jazmin and Portia. They waited until he was out of sight and then went looking for the house: 250 Long Lane. They only had to walk half a block until they reached the house they were looking for: a large ultramodern home, with a sizable driveway, a lawn with a fountain and decorative stone pathway that led to dual doors. There was a camera by the driveway and another one at the front of the door, and a third one by the backyard entrance.

"Cameras," Portia whined, "Fuck me."

"Not a problem," Jazmin said, heading around the back. Mr. Roak had a small pool, a grassy field and a patio where there was a transparent sliding door. When she got close enough, her eyes began to glow gold. The cameras began flickering and the image turned to static as it shorted out.

"There," she said. Zanny grinned and went to the sliding door, taking off a glove, revealing his huge, sharp claws. He used his index claw to pick the lock. Within a few seconds, he managed to slide open the door and enter the house. Jazmin and Portia cautiously walked in after him, looking around at the clean, polished, interior that reminded them of fifties décor with a touch of the avant-garde. The floor was smooth marble, there were lovely chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The walls were painted cream without any cheap wallpaper covering up holes or scratches.

"Nobody's home," Zanny said. He looked elated as he walked through the house, as if he stepped into a wonderland. Jazmin zipped through the house, whooshing past them, checking every room and within twenty seconds, she checked all over the house.

"So…let's see," Zanny began, as he rifled through the drawers. He grabbed the silverware and began throwing it in his backpack. As he did that, Jazmin and Portia went off separately, with Jazmin leading the way to Roak's study—the only room that was locked in the house. It was an electronic lock that Jazmin was able to short-out. When she did, the door cracked open and they walked through. The study was full of books, papers and his degrees were hung on the cream colored walls that went well with the burgundy rug on a hardwood floor. There was a small window that overlooked the lane that led into the cul-de-sac. Jazmin pulled the curtains closed and began rifling through the office.

"Papers, papers, papers," Portia muttered, tossing them away, "Stupid ungraded papers…"

Jazmin threw the books to the ground, "Ain't shit here."

"We got time," Portia reminded her, "He teaches until three and it takes an hour to get here from Los Lados so that nigga not coming here until four. It's just twelve right now."

"I know but this shit is fucking lame," Jazmin growled, now rifling through unopened cardboard boxes.

"Why does a teacher have all this shit anyways?"

"Ion know," Portia said, trying to open the drawer under his desk, "This shit is locked. Let me get Zanny to pick it." She texted him and within a minute, Zanny walked into the study.

"What I gotta pick?"

Portia pointed to the desk and Zanny picked it. Once he finished, the drawer slide out on its own, revealing paper clips, a flash drive and a few photos. Jazmin grabbed the flash drive and the photos, looking through the latter.

"Oh…fuck…"

"What?" Portia asked. She looked over Jazmin's shoulder, "Oh hell no…"

Zanny looked too, his eyes wide. It was the body of another student who wasn't Keisha. She was nude, in compromising positions, showing off the slight curves of her body. Jazmin's ears drooped as she looked disgusted. Zanny lit a cigarette, pointing at the photo.

"I know that bih," he said, "She used to go to Los Lados. The thot transferred."

"What her name is?"

Zanny took a drag of his cigarette, "Azuru," he said, "Azuru Rill." Jazmin looked at the student in the photos. She was of a deep, lovely tanned complexion and a slender body that had the makings of curviness in later years. She boasted curly, black hair with bright blue lowlights. She was of the Azumarill-linage, sporting blue rabbit-like ears and the distinctive tail of that water type pokemon. Jazmin put the photos in her bag.

"So…Mr. Roak a big nasty ass pervert," Zanny said, taking another drag.

"You said Azuru transferred?"

"Yeah," Zanny said, coughing a bit, "She transferred to Brightwater High."

"She still go there?"

"Ion know," Zanny admitted, "Prolly."

Jazmin zipped up her backpack and slung it around her shoulder, looking shook. "Why she transfer, tho?"

Zanny took another pull of the cigarette, "She got into mad fights, bruh. Also she got caught giving head to some nigga in the school who didn't go there—some senior nigga from another high school."

"Damn...she was a hoe," Portia said.

"So? This shit ain't fucking cool," Jazmin snapped back, walking out the office. Portia followed her, looking concerned, whereas Zanny just seemed unsure, but not too rattled.

"Where's Brightwater High?"

"Ain't that far from here, like three-four blocks. We passed it on our way here," Portia said.

"Ay, ay, ay ain't we robbing this creep nigga?" Zanny said, "Why we going there? I already took the fuckin' silverware and shit. Like who even has silverware these days? Niggas still out here eating with precious metals and shit? Dumb ass nigga…that's why yo ass got robbed…"

"Yeah but I wanna talk to Azuru."

"Nigga what," Zanny said, "Ugh, bruh…"

Portia looked at her phone—it was 12:30, "Hmm…you think they having lunch period right now?"

"Ion know," Zanny quipped, shrugging. Jazmin grabbed the both of them.

"Let's find out then." With that she whooshed out, speeding with the both of them in tow.

Brightwater High was nothing like L.L High. It was larger with a beautiful, green campus that stretched on for more than a few blocks. There were no metal detectors or x-ray machines. It looked like something out of a brochure, faultless in its design and manifestation. Portia looked around, wide eyed at the landscape. She was shocked at how lovely it was. She was so used to the dirty, graffiti stained walls of L.L High, the chain-link fence and the trashed front of the school that was constantly covered with litter and cigarette butts. The students here all dressed well, looking like the preppy, middle class types that Jazmin suspected they were. A wave of jealousy washed through her as she stared dull-eyed at this…fantasy, something she couldn't imagine existing in Scion City. But the divide was clear and it made her stomach twist with anger and frustration. If she grew up here…perhaps her father would still be around. It's not fair, she thought.

But life was never fair.

They walked onto campus, knowing that they would never fit in here. Zanny was too hood, Portia, as fashionable as she was, was simply a replica of the real thing and Jazmin…didn't try to fit in, she liked her style—a mix of urban chic and sporty. Some of the students were having lunch outside. The school served decent food—not industrialized, mass produced, hormone addled trash like they did in Los Lados High. They looked around until they spotted Azuru, who was sitting underneath an oak tree, eating a sandwich and drinking juice out of a chrome canteen. She was wearing jean capris, cute flats and a pink frilled top, with many bead bracelets. Jazmin walked up to her and Azuru looked up, confused until she saw Zanny. She stood up, startled and hissed at him, her ears going flat against her head.

"Sup thot," he said, with a grin.

"Fuck you! The fuck you doing here?" She yelled, "And who the fuck are these two?"

"Yo…" Jazmin began making her voice low, "I need to ask you something."

"Who are you? How you even get here? You're clearly not from Brightwater."

Jazmin gave her a stank look, scoffing at her, "I just wanna ask…" she set down her backpack, pulling out the photos and showing them to her. Azuru's eyes became saucers as she saw them. She began to well up with tears as her hands began shaking.

"…That's you, yeah?"

Azuru's breathing became labored as the teardrops fell on the photos, staining them. She grabbed them from Jazmin, tearing them to bits and tossing them into the light breeze. When she did, she grabbed her things and made a b-line back to the front of the school. Jazmin raced after her, cutting her off. Azuru was not a fast runner by any means and Jazmin caught up with her in a millisecond.

"Where'd you get those?" She yelled.

"I…uh…" Jazmin swallowed hard and then whispered in her ear. Azuru pulled away when she finished telling her where she'd gotten the photos.

"So…he still had 'em," she said lowly.

"Uh…you see…there was this girl…" Jazmin explained, "And…I think…he had something to do with her death."

Azuru shook her head, "I don't wanna talk about this."

"Please!" Jazmin begged, "Just…sit with me and Portia. Please…what happened to that girl shouldn't have happened. Please…"

Azuru looked at her and back at Portia and Zanny, who were still standing by the tree. Azuru took a deep breath and nodded, following Jazmin back to the oak. She sat down in the grass, pulling her legs up to her chest.

"You used to go to Los Lados," Jazmin said, more a statement than a question, "Why you dipped out?"

She inhaled, her ears twitching as she talked, "Iight, so boom—I'm a freshman in Los Lados and the only reason I went there and not Brightwater was cuz my mom was dating some fuck nigga there and living with him in Los Lados. When I went there, I quickly got a boyfriend—his name was Sandy…"

"Sandy? Leafeon Sandy?" Jazmin asked.

"Yeah, him," Azuru said, "We were both freshmen at the time. At the time, Mr. Roak was teachin' in Brightwater but there was some shit that happened that had him transferred to Los Lados."

"What happened tho?"

"Ion know!" Azuru snapped, "People think he got transferred due to pay cuts—and that probably was…what happened but I don't that. But I got my own theories…that's for later."

"Okay…" Jazmin sat across from Azuru, folding her legs, "So what happened."

"Sandy said he needed money and didn't wanna hang around me no more so we broke up," Azuru said, "Started hanging around some eighth-grader named Keisha who went to Los Lados Junior High. Ion know what happen with them but eventually, when I became a sophomore, I got in Mr. Roak's class."

"Mmmhm," Jazmin nodded, listening intently.

"He teaches math. It was okay at first, but eventually I started staying after class cuz I needed tutoring. At the end of the semester, he invited me to his home and…"

"Yeah, I get the idea," Jazmin said, not wanting to hear anymore, "And them pics?"

"I was drunk off my ass when he took 'em," Azuru insisted, "Anyways…I didn't tell my mom cuz I knew she wouldn't believe me. I wanted to get a transfer so I…"

"Started whooping bitches asses and gave head to some nigga from another school in the staircase," Zanny finished for her.

"Yep," she said, "And I got transferred. Anyways…uh…some legal stuff came up and I had to sign something. It said I couldn't go to the feds about all this and me and my mom got 10,000. That whole 10,000 is going to my college fund."

Jazmin sighed, her ears drooping as she did. Sandy had mentioned Keisha was a hoe who went around fucking about with everyone. However, apparently Sandy knew her for longer than he let on. He knew her since she was in middle school. Sandy was seventeen going on eighteen. Keisha was sixteen and Azuru had been seventeen as well. I wondered why he dropped out then. When the bell rung, Azuru got up and took her book-bag, giving Jazmin a dark, miserable look.

"I heard about that girl's death," she said, "She better off dead, t-b-h." She walked off, heading inside the school for the class period.

Kit Roak pulled up to his drive way, texting his wife that he was home. She came home an hour later while the kids were at soccer practice. As he stepped out of his SUV, he noticed something was off immediately. He jogged over to the front of the house with his suitcase in hand, looking at the security camera. It had rebooted from being off for at least a few hours. He then went around to the backyard, seeing that the screen door was open and the camera in the back was completely shorted out.

He swallowed hard, walking in, listening for anyone who may still have been lingering the house. He opened the drawers, noticing that the silverware was gone and some cash he had stashed away in another cabinet was also absent. He set down his suitcase and went into the lobby, looking around some more, sniffing the air and then the floor, trying to pick up any scent. There were three distinct ones that he was able to detect. When he got to his feet, he saw that the door to his study was open and the electronic lock was shorted out as well. He walked in, his eyes wide that his whole office was ransacked. There were papers tossed all over the place, books thrown to the floor, the curtains that were usually open were pulled shut. He walked over to his desk, pulling out the drawer and gritted his teeth when he saw that the photos he had were gone, including his flash drive. He sniffed the desk, closing his eyes as he did. The scents of the intruders were pungent and somewhat familiar. He sat down on his chair, feeling sweat starting to bead against his forehead, but he took the time to think. Only an electric type would be able to short out my cameras and my lock, he concluded. He closed his eyes again and took one last deep whiff and re-opened them, his pupils constricting into thin slits. Those scents smelled familiar because they were from familiar people.

The girl from my first period math class, he remembered. He was at a loss for her name until he saw a yellow hair on the hardwood floor. He delicately picked it up and inspected it, his eyes narrowing. He remembered her face—her and her friend, the one of Vaporeon lineage. They were at that girl's party. They were the ones who spotted him with Keisha. And they were the same students who sat in the back of his math class. Jazmin Jolt and Portia Pour, he remembered, reciting their names in his head. There was also a third scent—one he couldn't match a face to, but that wasn't necessary for now. He stood up, cleaned up his office—gathering up papers and putting them back where they were. When he finished placing the books back on the shelf, he grabbed his keys and went out the front, heading back to his car and texting his wife in the process.

Kit: I'm going back to the school—forgot something. I'll be late. XOXO. He sighed and got back into his SUV, adjusting the mirror and pulling out.

I'm not dealing with no stupid shit today.