Page 21

“No,” I say too quickly. “I don’t need you.”

“Coincidentally, I don’t need you either,” he counters. “I want to see the footage.”

“There’s nothing on the camera. They said it was covered during the incident.” The advisors and dean have already checked, but I know I’m more thorough than them, and I have my own methods I need to follow.

“Then why are you going?”

I have the urge to pull out a few strands of my hair. Why do I constantly have to keep explaining my job to him? “I want to look at the dates before, after, and the time stamps—I’m going to print some out to look at them in more detail.”

“Okay, then I’ll go with you. Besides, it’s getting darker out earlier, and you shouldn’t be by yourself at night.”

“Who are you, my father?”

“For a plethora of reasons, thank God I’m not.” He stands. “I’ll see you after school, Lopez. It’s a date.”

“Not a date.” Annoyance slides down my spine.

He puts a finger to his lips and shushes me. I hate that it simultaneously pisses me off and makes a laugh build at the center of my throat.

My phone buzzes on the edge of the table while I jot down the time when the cloth first covered the camera during the vandalism. It’s the fifth time it’s buzzed since we sat in the cramped office facing a wall covered in floor-to-ceiling monitors that keep track of every possible entry and hallway of the school.

The security guard is standing behind us, humming a song I think means to speed us up, but I’ve been here for fifteen minutes—that’s ten minutes over how long the vandalism actually was.

On the seven-minute mark, I write another time stamp down.

Theo leans over, uncaring that our shoulders are pressed together. “Why are you marking this time?”

I lightly shove him away and press forward so the video plays again. When I scribble another time, Theo sighs dramatically, then asks, “Is there even a point to it? Or do you want to waste our time here because you’re annoyed with me?”

I slam my book shut. “You know, no other student has ever shadowed me during this process.” I feel as if this is our seventh time having this conversation, but it doesn’t seem like Theo will ever care.

“Consider me less of a shadow and more of a co-counsel.”

My phone buzzes again. “You begged me to do this, which means you trusted me, so why are you monitoring me? Don’t you believe in me?”

“Maybe I just want to spend time with a pretty girl with an attitude problem.”

The security guard clears his throat. “Are you two done here?”

I stand from the rolling chair. “I’m done here. I’ll be going now.”

Theo follows me as I exit the tiny room, and the hallway lights blur my vision for a moment—a stark contrast from the surveillance room. I blink till my eyes adjust, like walking out of a theater and discovering it’s still sunny out.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I’m busy.”

“Busy setting your dad up?”

I pause. “How did you know?”

“You should really get a privacy protector,” he notes, positioning himself in front of me. Maybe it’s from his earlier run, but his hair is extra disheveled today and falls in frantic strands around his perfectly carved face.

“Mind your business.”

He blocks my path. “Seems you have a problem with minding your own. Why are you so concerned with your dad’s dating life?”

My shoulders tighten. “You also showed up to the date.”