To my relief, the crew hasn’t had time to do much upstairs. The long hallway still has the same depressingly dingy wallpaper, little yellow flowers on a green background that have faded so much I can barely make out the pattern. The door of my room is closed, and I push it open slowly, dreading what I might find on the other side.
Everything looks the same. The same cut out pictures on the wall and ratty comforter on the bed. Then my gaze shifts to the far corner, and I let out a weary sigh.
A shiny new iPhone sits on top of my desk with the film still covering its dark glass surface. The thing looks like it came straight off the factory line, but when I pick it up the screen lights up as if it’s already been activated.
I used to have a cell phone, one of those prepaid deals you can buy without needing credit. We sell a few different ones at the Gas and Sip. But I ran out of minutes months ago and couldn’t afford to buy more, so the phone stopped working completely.
But this is the latest model and nothing like what you can buy from a gas station. And I don’t have to guess who is paying for the plan.
As soon as I pick it, the phone pings with a new message that pops up on the screen.
Vin: More where this came from. Just say yes.
My gaze moves to the closed window that looks out onto the scrabbly trees and far off cliffs. The sky here is thick with fog and smog, nothing like the beautiful views up in the Bluffs. Nothing moves out in the distance, and it’s still broad daylight. I just hope it’s a coincidence this message came at the exact same moment I picked up the phone. I tell myself he can’t be out there, only a coincidence.
Vin isn’t out there somewhere watching me right now.
He doesn’t need to see me to know exactly what I’m doing. He has been able to see right through me from the very day we met.
It takes everything I have not to throw the very expensive piece of tech across the room so it shatters against the wall. It’s only my aversion to destroying something so expensive that keeps the thing in my hand and not in the nearest trash can.
I don’t bother to respond and close down the messaging app. Instead, I open up the list of contacts. Vin’s number is the only one that is programmed in, of course. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Vin figured out a way to keep me from calling anyone else with this thing.
This is a Faustian bargain if I ever heard one, except Vin won’t be happy with just my soul.