“Civics class,” Auggie said. “Next time, we tour city hall.”
Somers smiled and let the moment drag.
“We’ve got to get going,” Theo said. “Good to see you guys again.” He caught Auggie’s arm and tugged him toward the door.
“Theo,” Somers said, “I’m really sorry about Ian.”
“Thanks.”
“Theo, we should talk.”
“Have a good night,” Theo said, dragging Auggie outside.
11
When Auggie had gotten home Wednesday night, the fight with Orlando had been brutal; Orlando had insisted that Auggie tell him where he had been, and Auggie had insisted on telling Orlando to fuck off. Auggie had left when Orlando wouldn’t drop it, and he spent the rest of Wednesday night and all of Thursday avoiding Orlando; he slept in the Sigma Sigma house in a friend’s room, and he showered and changed at Moriah Court when he knew Orlando would be at wrestling practice.
Friday morning, Orlando was standing outside Auggie’s classroom in Tether-Marfitt. His dark brows were furrowed as he scanned the milling students, obviously hoping to spot Auggie first; his thumbs were hooked behind the straps of his backpack, and he rocked on his heels.
Turning around, Auggie headed the other direction.
“Auggie?” Orlando called behind him.
Reflex took over, and Auggie opened a familiar door ahead of him and dove into the classroom. Theo was at the board, chalking up some lines from Lear, while kids settled into their seats and took out notebooks, pens, laptops, and tablets. Some of them glanced at Auggie, but not many; it was still the first week of classes, and the add/drop period ran for two more weeks.
“Professor Stratford,” Auggie said.
Theo glanced over his shoulder. “Oh. Hey, what’s—”
“I’m considering adding this class. Could I sit in on today’s lecture?”
A tiny furrow appeared on Theo’s forehead, but he just nodded and waved at the seats. Auggie slid into one in the front, adjusted the tablet arm, and got out a notebook. He’d wait ten minutes and then he’d quietly pack up his stuff and leave; if Orlando was still waiting outside the door to Auggie’s classroom, well, Auggie would go to the library.
The only problem with that plan was that Theo was, well, Theo. Today he was wearing khakis and a navy button-up printed with gold pineapples. He had the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was writing out lines that Auggie remembered from the first act of the play. His butt looked particularly cute today.
When the bell rang, Theo turned around and said, “All right, good morning. Let’s go ahead and get started. Today we’ll be discussing act one, scene one of Lear. We’ll be working on this for the whole semester in a variety of adaptations and reimaginations, so it’s important to get a solid understanding of the play first. Let’s start by listing our characters.”
Doodling in his notebook, Auggie let his mind drift while Theo ran through Lear and Gloucester and Edmund; Cornwall and Albany; Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia. Some of the students asked questions for clarification. It was funny, having taken the class once, to hear so many of the questions repeated. It was also funny how easily Auggie could tell which students had done the readings and which ones hadn’t. When ten minutes had passed, he flipped his notebook closed, ready to head for Civ 2 down the hall. His phone buzzed.
Orlando: i know ur in there.
Auggie: go away.
Orlando: i just want to apologize.
Auggie: seriously, go away.
“I’m sorry,” Theo said. “No phones.”
Glancing up, Auggie realized Theo was talking to him. “Wait, I’m not—hold on. Are you for real?”
Theo just held out his hand.
“We’re doing this again?” Auggie said.
“Class rule.”
After a moment, Auggie passed over his phone.
Theo picked up the thread of his lecture, and Auggie slumped back into his seat. He wasn’t going to risk leaving with Orlando creepily waiting for him. Once the halls were full during the ten-minute passing period, Auggie could venture out. He grimaced, opened his notebook again, and started doodling.
While Theo banged on and on about the first act of Lear, Auggie tried to do something productive: they needed to find where Robert might have hidden the flash drive, but everything they’d tried had been a dead end. Jessica had told them that Robert wouldn’t have hidden something valuable with friends or family, and having met some of Robert’s friends and family, Auggie thought she was probably right. More importantly, Robert had been double-timing everyone: he’d sold out the Ozark Volunteers to the cops, he’d dealt drugs and probably sold out the cops to the Volunteers, and according to Jessica, he’d been willing to sleep with just about any girl who gave him the time of day. When you betrayed everyone, there wasn’t anyone left you could trust—and, Auggie thought, you believed everyone was willing to betray you, too. Jessica had also told them that Robert wasn’t very smart. He relied on his phone for everything, which wasn’t exactly a fair equation; Auggie depended on his phone for just about everything too, but he considered himself at least as smart as the next person. But the phone certainly would have been nice to have; whoever had killed Auggie wouldn’t have kept it, so Jessica was doubtless right when she said it had been sold or scrapped.
Maybe the answer was hidden in Robert’s Instagram feed; after all, that was how they’d found his apartment. Auggie tried to think back through the photographs and videos that Robert had posted. Lots of pictures of his apartment, but they’d already checked there, and Lender had torn it apart—if the flash drive had been there, he would have found it. Lots of amateur photography, mostly sunsets and abandoned buildings. Images that Auggie guessed Robert would have described as dynamic or energetic: beer bottles clinking together, a little girl blowing out candles, a rave with glowsticks and party lights. The problem, though, was that there were hundreds of images like that, and
