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Anyway—the leaving. It doesn’t really happen. I hoped I could do this under the cover of night, but now I’m banking on his neighbors not knowing each other well enough to realize that I’m out of place around here.
I lock my car and walk around the back side of the building, then up the staircase to the second floor. I passanother guy on my way down the hallway, and he gives me a nod before continuing on his way. I stop in front of #213 and remove the set of keys I took from his desk. I flip through them until I find the one that looks most like a house key and turn it in the lock.
The small apartment is trendy but bare, and while it appears to be clean, it smells like stale laundry or dirty towels. A plate with a half-eaten microwave dinner sits on the countertop, and I wonder how long it’s been there before reminding myself that I’m on a tight schedule and need to do what I came here for.
I resign to breathing from my mouth for however long this takes.
I panic a little when I look around the apartment and don’t see a computer anywhere. He has to have one—it’s got to be here somewhere, but I don’t even see a desk or anything resembling an office or workspace in the apartment.
But if I were an old perv, would I leave my computer out for other people to find? No, probably not.
I head to the bedroom—the apparent source of the worst of smells—and start turning out drawers, looking for hiding places. I wish I’d worn gloves for the sake of sanitation, not because I’m worried about fingerprints. I don’t plan on remaining anonymous.
I notice a power cord plugged into the wall beside the bed lying on the floor.
I lift the mattress and find the laptop wedged underneath. I pull out the computer, sit cross-legged on the ground, and power it on.It feels like it takes an eternity for the computer to load and bring me to the sign-in screen. My heart pounds along with a figurative stop clock counting down in my head. Eventually, it does load, and I attempt to log in, typing the same password he’d used at school when prompted and hoping for the best.
Bigdick79!
The word ‘Welcome’ flashes across the screen.
Idiot.
It isn’t difficult from there to access his text messages and email history. Even though I expected to find something incriminating, I have to admit I’m shocked by the sheer volume of garbage he’s saved on this computer.
His search history is wiped. Not surprising, and I’m sure I know why.
I take out my phone and start taking pictures of what I’ve found—the messages, the photos—and I feel like I’m a creep, too. It makes me feel like whatever is wrong with him is getting on me, as if it’s in the air here, seeping into my skin. I mutter a silent apology to my classmates for looking before closing the computer and returning it to where I found it.
I open the door just a crack and peer into the empty hallway before stepping out and closing the door behind me. I lock it and head back down the staircase to my car. I only have about ten minutes left before track practice is over—and that’s just barely enough time to make it back to the school. Let’s hope he’s a lingerer.
The track is empty when I park my car and head inside the building. I proceed down the empty hallway to Parks’ room and turn the knob.
It’s locked.
Fuck.
The custodians probably close and lock all the doors after they go through the rooms in the evening. I didn’t think of that.
“West!” a voice calls from behind me.
Shit.
I wince, then turn and find myself face-to-face with the douchebag himself.
“Do you need something?”
I hold out the keys in my hands. “Found these in the parking lot next to the red Chevy Silverado. It’s yours, right?”
“Oh, shit. Yeah, I was looking for those. Thanks.”
“No problem,” I say and quickly walk in the other direction.
“Hey, what are you doing here anyway?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I tell him. “I forgot some stuff I need for the weekend.”
“Oh, right. I always forget you’re one of the smart ones,” he says. The urge to roll my fucking eyes is overwhelming. “I’ve seen you at a lot of the meets. Thought you had a girlfriend on the team you were waiting for or something.”
