I can't help but wonder about the picture, though. Was that man his father? Why was his face burned off when Quinton looked so happy to be around him? What could have possibly happened? I’ve been angry with my father before, but I've never burned him out of a family photograph. The thought has never crossed my mind… what could make a child do that?
I try to think of something that my father could do that would make me so angry, but nothing comes to mind. It makes me ask myself why Quinton would do it until I remind myself that it's none of my business and I don't care!
The two of us leave, our job done. I feel somewhat accomplished, having defeated my enemy. Okay, so I'm not for sure that I did, but come on, he can't be that smart. He has to study to get good grades, right? I'll be glad if it drops a letter grade. As long as he doesn't place in the top five my dream will come true.
Later that evening I flip through pages of his notebook, shocked to find out that he really does take great notes. Things are so easy to read and understand. Even his handwriting is nice, unlike my own chicken scratch writing. I feel as if I'm becoming smarter just looking over it all. He could sell this to kids! Why doesn't he? Probably wants to keep it to himself, selfish bastard.
Sighing, I push the notebooks aside. Langley said he would take them out to the trashcans later. We wouldn't want to get caught with them. Sucks, I was kind of hoping I could keep them. I really could use them. I bet my grades would go from C's to A's if I kept them.
The small silver flash drive I took earlier sits before me, practically begging me to look at it. There has to be something on this. He is a teenage boy, after all. There has to be video games or porn or… something on here that shows he's human.
I plug it into my laptop. As expected, the flash drive appears with no cool name. Come on, everyone gives their flash drive a name. Mine is called Ozzie, not sure why. It looks like an Ozzie to me.
I open it, finding a few folders. The first is called School, and of course it’s full of his schoolwork, projects he’s done—all perfect, of course—and notes he has taken. There's nothing interesting. The second folder, entitled Movies, is just that, full of TV shows and movies. So he is interested in TV after all? They, like the books, are all mystery, thriller, and crime type shows, with occasional horror thrown in. It actually looks like a teenage boy’s computer for a moment.
I will admit I do enjoy me some Criminal Minds… oh god, we have something in common! No way! I'm never watching Criminal Minds again! Damn it, but I love Criminal Minds. Share an interest or not? It’s a hard question to answer.
The third folder, however…
I hesitate, my mouse hovering over the word Photographs. A lump forms in my throat. For all I know the pictures could be nothing more than a hobby. Langley and I didn't find a camera, but maybe he does have one and enjoys taking pictures? At the same time these could be family photographs.
Do I really want to do this? I mean… I want to get him out of this school, but to dig into his life like this is a bit… I would not want him looking through my photographs, especially if my family was in them. Sure, everyone knows what my family looks like, but our personal photographs are our personal photographs. I don't want others to see. People deserve a right to their privacy, and I don't want to be the jerk who invades not only someone's life but their loved ones’ lives as well.
I remove my hand from the mouse. I didn't realize I was sweating until I feel the dampness of my pants, where my hand is now laying. I can't do it. There's no way. That is going too far. I won't.
I quickly remove the flash drive and put it in the trash. If I look at it it'll only tempt me into opening the one folder I hadn't. I don't want to do that because I'm not that much of an asshole.
"Are you done with this stuff?" Langley asks, appearing out of nowhere. How long has he been in the room?
"Yeah," I answer. "Nothing interesting on the flash drive either..."
I bet there would have been had I opened the photograph folder. Maybe there would have been a picture of his dad in there. I guess seeing a picture wouldn't explain why he burnt one off. And why would he have a picture like that under his pillow if he had a folder of them on his flash drive?
I won't find out now… I don't need to know anyways! Who cares about him… he can do whatever he wants with his pictures. I don't care. I'm not curious at all.
Not at all.
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