"What about his books? They're highlighted, aren't they? He can retake the notes." I groan. So our plan isn't as perfect as I had thought.
Langley thinks it over a moment before answering, "We keep them in lockers at school, right?"
I nod. Everyone has their own locker so we don't have to come running back to our dorms after every class.
"I'll ask around for someone to bust in, make it look like a prank. People have done it before." Langley hums to himself as he looks back at the other desk. "We better mess up his roommate’s, too, so it doesn't look like we knew this was Quinton's desk."
As Langley begins to push things around on the opposite desk I think over what he just said. So people have messed with Quinton before? What, like, teased him? Played pranks on him? Been mean to him? For some reason, I can't even imagine Quinton being teased. He's got a sharp tongue. He doesn't seem like the type of person to be pushed around by anyone!
Wait, aren't I trying to push him around? So am I not the only one? I know he's an ass, but people said he keeps to himself. I guess that doesn't mean people keep away from him though, if anything it puts a target on his back. People tend not to like those who stand out or are even the least bit different. I've never noticed anyone mess with him before. We don't have every class together, though, so it's possible that in other classes there are people messing with him...
Oh, whatever! He's a jerk and he's asking for it.
I shake any and all thoughts of pity for the jerk from my mind and continue on my search to find anything to destroy the douchebag. As I dig through his desk I find… nothing, nothing interesting at all. He really is a bookworm, because that's all I can find, book after book after book! They aren’t even sketchy or something to laugh over. Why can’t he be interested in something that I could show to everyone to embarrass him?
Most of the books he has appear to be mystery or crime novels. He even has some autobiographies of cops who caught famous serial killers. I guess that’s weird, but if I showed the girls this they would probably swoon over him more, deciding that his interest in crime is because he wants to save the world or something.
I look under his mattress, in his trunk, in the closet, everywhere! I don't even find any porn! There are no family photos, nothing to embarrass him in any way. What, is he not human? Part of me is actually a little concerned that he seems to have so little. Nothing about himself. Don't most people have at least a family portrait? Maybe a picture of a pet or a friend? Quinton has nothing.
"There isn't a single thing in here other than his weird crime novels," I say around a pout. All that work for nothing… well, not for nothing, but still, I wanted to find something! I'd be happy with an elementary school picture of him in drag or with a bad haircut! Once again, there's nothing, like he has no actual life outside of school. Figures.
Langley laughs. "We did what we wanted to do. Did you get his flash drive?"
I swing the small drive around my finger. "Yep! Maybe he has something on here?"
"Doubt it." Langley sighs and is turning to leave when my eyes fall onto something I had missed.
"Wait a sec," I say, scurrying over to Quinton's bedside. I had looked under his pillow but I hadn't looked in the case. Now I can barely see the edge of what appears to be a photograph peeking out from within. To make sure it's the only one, I pull the pillow out completely. Nope, there's only one.
"What is it?" Langley asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. He sits beside me and peeks at the picture, seeming as confused as I am. "Why is it…?"
"Burned." I run my finger over the edge that has obviously been singed away by flame.
The face of a man has been removed. Beside him is a woman with breathtaking green eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. Her smile is dazzling and, to be honest, Quinton kind of looks like her. Holy shit, there is no way that's his mom! She's a total MILF! How could the spawn of Satan come from such a beauty?
She is smiling as she holds tightly onto a young boy who has to be Quinton. I can't imagine there would be anyone else with eyes as black as that, although that smile of his is not one I've ever seen him wear before. It reaches from ear to ear. He actually looks happy—thrilled, in fact—to have the arms of his mother and the mystery man around him. I can assume the man in this picture is his father, but for all I know it could be a brother or an uncle… not that I'm curious or anything...
"He must really hate his dad to have burned him out of this picture," Langley says, snatching it from my hold to examine it further. His mind must have concluded the mystery man to be his father as well. He flips it over to see nothing on the back. "Well, we learned he has daddy issues. Come on, let’s go already."
“Yeah... okay..."
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