Page 28 of The Wrong Side of Kai
“Not here. Working late,” I lie. My heart pangs with guilt. It’s not a secret – I was the kid in the sophomore year whose grandparents had to pull her out of class in a frantic mayhem of panic because her mom had just passed away that afternoon. I was always surrounded by friends who invited me to hang out, who sat with me at lunch, who were always justso nice. I was the girl whose mom was dead, but the pressure of all of that pity got tedious. I didn’t want to be defined by my mom’s death anymore.
It wasn’t long before I realized that it wasn’t so difficult to get my peers to react toward me in a different kind of way, one that had nothing to do with pity. That’s why I kissed Andy Donovan under the bleachers and made sure the news was on everyone’s lips. It got me attention, but this time it was for a completely different reason than my mom’s death.
We walk into my room and Chyna has managed to style her hair into a puff above her head, smoothing down her baby hairs with a toothbrush. She glances over at the door when we enter and immediately stops touching her hair.
“Kai, this is Chyna. My best friend and computer whizz extraordinaire,” I say, flashing her a grin as I close the door behind us, “and Chyna, this is Kai. My accomplice and tire-slasher extraordinaire. You sort of met at the party.” We all share a laugh.
“Hey,” Kai says, giving Chyna a nod, and she squeaks back a quiet hello.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I tell Kai. I flop back down onto my bed, secretly hoping that he’ll join me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits down on my floor. When his back is turned for a mere second, Chyna and I exchange a look – her eyes go wide and her mouth pulls into a tight smile, a clear signal that she agrees with me on the fact that Kai is seriously hot. We didn’t get much chance to discuss him at the party.
“So, did you charge the phone?” Kai asks, getting straight to business. He leans back against my wall and pulls his knees up to his chest.
“All charged,” Chyna says. She yanks the charger out of Harrison’s phone on the dresser and gets up, sitting down cross-legged on my bed next to me. She grabs her laptop too but doesn’t turn it on yet. “I know it’s obvious, but have you guys triedguessingthe passcode?” She taps at the phone. “It’s only a four-digit passcode. I’ll check the obvious.” I watch over her shoulder as she tries entering four zeroes, and then one-two-three-four, but neither of them gains us access to Harrison’s life. Chyna thinks, then looks over at me. “Do you know his birthday?”
“Oh! I do, actually,” I say, feeling surprisingly useful. “It was Labor Day because we hooked up. . .” My words trail off when I remind myself that Chyna and I aren’t the only two people in my room. I can’t talk so freely about my time spent with Harrison when I have a guest.
Kai scoffs and pulls out his own phone. He scrolls for a second, checking his calendar, then says, “Labor Day was September third this year. Try that, Chyna. By the way, is it spelled like the country?”
“Nope, spelled like my name,” Chyna says with a wry smile. She tries different combinations of dates on Harrison’s phone, like zero-nine-zero-three for September 3rd, and nine-three-zero-one for September 3rd ’01, but still nothing. She puts the phone down and opens up her laptop instead. “Okay, we can’t guess it. And you want all the files, so I can’t just reset the phone to factory settings,” Chyna says, voicing her thoughts out loud. “Time to download all kinds of risky software, and if some virus blows up my computer, you guys are buying me a new one. This might take a while.” She plumps up my pillows and gets comfortable.
“Absolutely,” I promise. I do appreciate Chyna helping us, especially when I know she doesn’t think what we’re doing isright. Her moral compass is vastly stronger than mine, but she always puts our friendship first before anything else. That’s why she’s so willing to help out.
“Hey, Nessie,” Kai says from the floor. “I added another idea to the list after I left the diner.”
I scoot over to the edge of my bed and look down at him, raising an eyebrow. “And whydidyou leave the diner?”
“Saw someone I didn’t want to talk to,” he says quickly, brushing it off, “which gave me an idea. You said Harrison goes to Bob Evans every Wednesday night.” I nod. “How do you think he’d feel if an unwanted guest turned up?”
“Go on,” I say curiously, sitting down on the floor next to him. I don’t know how much distance to keep between us. Too far might make it noticeable and awkward. Too close mightalsomake it noticeable and awkward. I position myself a foot away, and wonder if the person he didn’t want to talk to at the diner was the same girl who approached me after he left. She obviously knew who he was, after all.
Kai pulls out that little notepad from the pocket of his gym shorts and clears his throat, reading over the new notes he’s added. “So we set up a fake profile for him on some ‘no strings’ dating app or whatever. An ‘up for anything’ profile, because sending his usual type his way seems like more a favor than an annoyance. And we talk to some people, then ask them if they want to meet at Bob Evans tomorrow night.” Kai glances sideways at me and smiles. “We can discreetly watch as Harrison becomes hounded by chancers who think he’s down for some fun.”
“Isn’t that cruel on the innocent people who get hurt in this too?” Chyna questions from my bed, eyeballing us over the top of her laptop, disapproval written all over her face. “And I’ve seen that prank happen in movies like a gazillion times. Not really original.”
“It doesn’t need to be original. It just needs to work,” Kai tells her, his tone as nonchalant as ever. “And when it comes to Harrison Boyd, we need stuff that works.”
“Hmm, okay. Point taken,” Chyna grumbles, averting her eyes back to her laptop screen. “I just hope you’re not leading my best friend astray.”
Kai looks at me, taking in my features. The corner of his mouth curves into a tiny, knowing smile that’s almost. . . pitiful. “I think she was already astray when I found her.”
My chest tightens when he says this. Is that a joke or is there meaning behind his words? Suddenly, in that exact second, I wish Kai could see straight through me, like he knows my mom is dead and my dad doesn’t care and my sister needs me to protect her and I don’t believe in relationships because I’m scared of being left heartbroken and I get drunk and stay out late and fool around with guys because I’m acting out to get attention and I say that I don’t care when Idocare. But then I remind myself that it’s impossible for Kai to know these things.
“Don’t worry, Chyna,” I say, forcing down the lump in my throat and keeping my voice even, “I know the limits.” Or at least I think I do.
She doesn’t reply.
“So?” Kai urges. He sits up a little and holds up his phone. “Do I download some sleazy app or nah?”
“Let’s do it,” I say, biting back laughter.
“Man, I hope no one sees this on my phone. . .” he mumbles as he downloads the app, and I let that laugh escape as we both huddle in closer around his phone.
Kai doesn’t follow or have Harrison as a friend on any social media, so it becomes a team effort to essentially steal his identity. I snoop through Harrison’s Facebook and Instagram accounts, picking out different pictures of him and then texting them over to Kai’s phone where he adds them to the fake account we’re putting together.
Harrison, young and hot, Westerville.
“Bio?” Kai asks, looking up from his phone. “Chyna, any thoughts on a biography for our friend Harrison?”
