10
Zach
I ignored the banging at the front door, but it wouldn’t stop. Finally, I pulled off my headset, shoved away from my desk and jogged upstairs. I opened the door and smiled, surprised, but so excited to have my girl here.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Who is Horde?”
I stiffened, but didn’t respond.
“Does he do illegal things? Like fixing elections?” The pain in her voice made my chest hurt. “Do you?”
I reached for her, and she backed up a step. “That’s not—”
“What did you do, Zach?”
An engine idled in my driveway and I knew if she left now, I wouldn’t see her again. I couldn’t lose her. “Can you come in and talk about this?”
“Tell me. What did you do?”
I swallowed. Shit. Not how this was supposed to go down. At all.
“I found something out. About your opponent. That’s all.”
“How? How’d you find it out? How come nobody else figured it out, huh? What did you do?”
“I…” I cleared my throat, unsure I could actually get the words out. I’d never said this before, never voiced what I did with my time. “I accessed his private emails. It was ridiculously easy to crack that password, the man doesn’t even—” Her silence was stone cold. I cleared my throat and kept it vague. “Followed some leads to offshore accounts. Backtracked to some dicey financial transactions and—”
“Wait, wait, wait. You’re a hacker? All this time I thought you did financial stuff and you hack into things. Illegally?”
“I made my money through investments. I didn’t lie about that. Or the inventions. But…I hack for good.”
“Oh, right.” She snorted. “Like freaking Robin Hood?”
“When I lost my sight, I thought life was over. I could see, you know? How was I even a person?” I couldn’t believe I was telling her this, actually giving her my story. My Granddad had been such a mess after the accident. I mean, he’d lost his wife years before and suddenly his son was gone and he was left with me—a kid who’d been bright, but awkward to begin with. He tried everything, made me buck up, act like life hadn’t changed. “When everything was hopeless, my Granddad gave in to pressure and bought me a computer. I started gaming. I was good at it. Really good. I met some people—people who didn’t give a crap if I could see them or not. While most kids were going to school, I was at home on my computer, learning everything there was to know about code and security. I learned about weaknesses and how to exploit them.” I spent years growing from being a powerless kid into a powerful teenager. I made a difference from the basement of this house.
“I’m sorry you were hurt, Zach. But this wasn’t your election to fix.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but she kept going. “Where’s your computer? Where do you work?”
“In the basement.”
“Show me.”
“You sure you want me to?”
“I don’t know!” she yelled, moving away. “I mean, no, I don’t want that, but I also want the man I’m with to be above the law. How can I love someone who makes a living doing bad things?”
“I don’t.”
“Oh, right. Just a little hacking on the side. For fun.”
“Not for fun.” My voice was loud and low. I didn’t want to sound mean, but she was starting to piss me off with her accusations. What I did wasn’t fun. It was important.
“Oh, right. For the public good.”
“I’ll explain. But you have to come in.”
“No. I’m not going in there right now. I need to think and I can’t think clearly when you’re around. Didn’t you believe in me? Didn’t you believe I could do it on my own?” she whispered, and it crushed me. “Didn’t you think I could win this election without cheating?”
“You didn’t cheat.”
“No, but you did.”
“It’s not cheating if it’s real.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Riley has spent the last five years embezzling from his fancy uptown firm. He’d have gotten caught sooner or later. I just made sure it came out before it was too late.”
She sniffled. Oh, shit. She was crying. “I wish you hadn’t done that, Zach. I wish you could undo it.” I reached for her, but she shifted out of my reach again and I let her. “I’m not okay with this. I don’t even know if I can stay in the race now. I can’t win like this, I—”
“Don’t. Don’t drop out. Please. I’ll apologize. I’ll turn myself in.”
“No.” She backed away, leaving me alone and so fucking pissed. “No. You do you, okay Zach? You do whatever it is you do…and I’ll do me. I just wish you’d given me a choice, you know?”
She clomped down the stairs and when I started after her, she turned and whispered, “Stay.”
I did, though I hated it. But what I hated even more was my relief that I wouldn’t have to chase her out there, into the world.
I listened to her steps crunch down my front walk, to the waiting car, listened to the door close, and to the rattling engine of the car that carried her away from me. And I didn’t do a damned thing to stop her.
Veronica
O’Neal took me back to her place, this little cottage close to the ocean, and set me up on her sofa with white wine, which I gulped like a fiend, and Chinese food, which I ignored. She ran out to the store and came back with those lotiony tissues, more wine, and five flavors of ice cream.
“So, you’re done with him?”
“I don’t know. I want to be done with everything.”
“What? No. No, V, no way. You drop out of this race and there’s no one to—”
“I’m done, O’Neal. I’m so tired. I’ve worked so hard for this and to have it happen this way’s—”
“Bullshit.” She leaned into my face, with that no-nonsense expression I’d seen her use only a handful of times. Scary. “I don’t care how it came to light, but Rylie was a crook. Wouldn’t you say we have enough crooks in government? Honestly?”
“But that’s the point, see? Don’t you get it? If I accept this… this gift or whatever it was meant to be, then I’m just as crooked as they are.”
She leaned back, refilled our wine glasses and sniffed, conceding the point. For now. “Rylie screwed his own pooch, V.”
“I know. But I’m not going to profit from it.”
“The entire community would profit from it if you do this.”
“I can’t.”
“So, what are your choices?”
I shrugged, slugged back some more wine, and thought about it. “Drop out, I guess.”
“No. Nope. Newwwwp. Petition to move the elections back. But don’t give up. You’re too big a voice now. You’ve got too many people counting on you. You get that, right? All this work, all those people working for your campaign, they need you. I need you.”
I blinked. Was O’Neal Jones, my driven, tough-as-nails, take-no-prisoners bestie actually crying?
“O’Neal, are you—”
“No! No, I’m not. Because who do you think wrote that piece, huh?” She sniffed. “You think I don’t feel responsible for this? What the hell happens to this?” She waved her hand between us. “Between us, if you pull out now? How do you think that’ll work for me, if I made the mistake that changed the entire path of not only this town and its residents, but my best friend’s entire life?”
I hadn’t thought of that.
“You think I could file a request to postpone the election?”
“I don’t know. But you could check. Right?” She hid her face behind her hands and made a half-laughing sound. “Don’t look at me when I tear up. I’m really bad at emotion.”
Tears rushed to my eyes. I pushed them back and nodded. “No. You’re really good at it.”
“Being emotional?” She giggled. “I’m the ice queen, remember?”
“Only according to the guys you date. The guys you sleep with.” O’Neal Jones was allergic to commitment.
“Sleep?”
“Have sex with.”
“Whatever. I don’t remember the last time I cried.”
“I cry all the time.”
“Seriously, V? You’re so together.”
“Me?” That she’d see me that way truly surprised me, gave me a little bolster of something. “No. I’m a mess.”
“Again, I call bullshit on your ass. You’re the strongest, most together person I know. You’re little and driven and you take no nonsense from anyone. You run your world like you run your classroom.”
“With a hug and a board book?”
She snuffled and grinned at me from behind her hands. “Exactly. With compassion, love, and kindness. You’re the strongest person I know, V. And you’re the best person for the job.” She grabbed her glass and sat back onto the sofa, leaning into me, shoulder to shoulder. “I sure hope you don’t let us all down.” She gave me a wink. “No pressure.”