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Tean started walking toward the parking lot.
“It would have pictures. No, diagrams. It would have diagrams. Wait, we haven’t even talked about where we’re going.”
“I’m going to get my bag from the car, and I’m going to look for something I can use as a weapon, and then I’m going back to that party and asking more questions until Rod kicks me out or somebody tells me something useful.”
Jem’s phone buzzed again as he trotted after Tean. This time, it was Instagram - @aplolz was requesting to follow him.
When he caught up with Tean, Jem said, “Penis. And butt. And the whole body, but like the one you see in art books.”
“The Vitruvian man? What are you talking about?”
“The sex manual I’m writing for you. Those are some of the diagrams.” His phone buzzed again—August Paul Lopez wanted to add Jem on Snapchat. And then again when Auggie followed him on Twitter. His handle read,Auggie is open for profile reviews. A DM popped up a moment later.
Need to talk.
Then another:Now.
Then a third:Theo says I need to tell you this is Auggie from last nightand then a skull emoji.
Jem grinned.
“What?” Tean asked as he opened the Jetta’s door.
“I honestly don’t know. You know the pretty kid from last night?”
Tean’s bushy eyebrows went up.
“Oh please,” Jem said. “You were thinking the same thing. We all were. He’s got a jawline like a fucking razor blade.”
“Uh huh,” Tean said.
“He wants to talk,” Jem said as he typed in his number and sent it to Auggie.
“About what?”
Jem’s phone buzzed and as he answered, he said, “Let’s find out.”
“Find out what?” Auggie asked.
“You know it’s kind of insulting that Theo thought I couldn’t figure out who you were.”
“Right? Thank you.”
A disgruntled noise suggested Jem was on speakerphone, so he set his call to speaker as well and said, “He knows there are pictures on those profiles, right? Like, he knows I can see you?”
“Don’t get me started.”
“Auggie,” Theo said. He had a nice little wallop of authority packed behind the name. Not a cop. Maybe money. Zaddy’s got coins. Or maybe just big dick energy, but not the asshole variety.
“We found her.”
“What?” Tean asked.
“Who?” Jem said.
“Una.” Auggie’s grin shone through his voice. “Una Marchesi. Born in St. Louis, Missouri, on June 17, 1996, at Barnes-Jewish Hospital, currently living with her parents and unemployed, ardent believer in the Birds Aren’t Real movement, and no longer taking her anxiety medication because, quote, ‘They were using it to control my brain.’ Oh, the ‘they’ in that sentence is the same they who were using birds to spy on us.”
“The girl from Yesenia’s hotel room? You found her?”
