Standing out there with him while he worked, watching how serious and focused he was, I knew Syd was exaggerating. He didn’t act like Syd and her friends—laughing all the time and lying around listening to Death Cab and stuffing their faces with Doritos.
Graham glanced up from the engine and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Whatcha thinking about?” he asked.
“My sister.”
“What about her?”
“She thinks you’re using drugs,” I blurted out.
He put down his tools and came and stood in front of me. Wiping his hands off on a towel.
“She’s right. I am.”
I shrugged awkwardly, waiting for him to tell me some secret.
“I need them to concentrate and to not be anxious.”
“That’s what I told her,” I said, and felt a flood of relief in my stomach.
He looked at me and his eyes were so blue and beautiful. He looked so sad and I felt that familiar flutter. Then he reached out his hand and I took it. I had the sudden desire to take care of him. I wanted people to know who he really was.
“I like Syd,” he said. “She’s fun. But I don’t want her coming between us.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry. She won’t.”
My mom called up to my room, and I ignored her, because I was writing code. It was one of those days where I would be wide-awake first thing in the morning with about a million ideas. And today I hadn’t even gone down for breakfast before getting right to it. The thing I love about coding is that you are building a whole world, a whole architecture, making something totally new. It seems like gibberish to other people, but really it’s very straightforward.
I heard my mom call again and finally tore myself away from the computer and turned around and shouted, “What the hell? WHAT?!” just as the door was opening.
Tate peeked her head in, and my mom’s voice yelled up the stairs, “I said, ‘Tate’s here!’”
I rolled my eyes and Tate laughed, came in, set her skateboard down, and then flopped on my bed. “Thanks, Mom!” I yelled back.
“Oh my God,” Tate said. “You’ve been up all night being a super nerd again, haven’t you? I swear, Becks, you are going to be awash in piles of sea glass jewelry and strands of computer code. Have you even combed your hair this week? And maybe change out of your pajamas?”
“Just got up early,” I said distractedly, turning back to the computer. “I’ll be done soon. Check this out.”
“What the hell is it?”
“I’m building an app that finds and gathers all the internet radio stations with indie music on them.”
“Doesn’t something like that already exist?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
“Why didn’t you just buy it then?”
“I can do this for free,” I told her.
“But it probably took you ten hours to write the program. That’s a lot of free labor.”
“Five hours,” I said. “And I wanted to see if I could do it.”
“What else were you doing?”
“I hacked into the public library and erased my fines.”
“Why didn’t you just take your books back?” She was being contrary—Tate loved this kind of sneaky stuff.
I shrugged and we started laughing. She said, “That’s seriously cool, though. What else can you do?”
“I don’t know. Whatever I want, I guess.”
“You’re something else, Becky. Most people would use those skills to do something that would benefit them more than finding places that are streaming Radiohead, or canceling a two-dollar fine.”
“Baby steps,” I told her. “After I get a sweet job with the NSA, then I can do some really cool stuff. I could be the next what’s his name . . . that whistleblower guy who told everyone the government is spying on them.”
“Edward Snowden?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure he can’t come back to the country ever because they’re going to put him straight in jail.”
“Whatever. I’ll be like that guy but without the having-to-go-to-jail part.”
I could tell Tate was getting interested in writing code and hacking now that I said I could do something that was really against the rules with my skills.
“Can you show me how to do this stuff?”
“Last time I tried you got bored and wanted to go to the skate park.”
“Yeah, but . . .”
“I know, it’s pretty sweet, right? Pull up a chair. I’ll teach you how to pick some digital locks.”
Tate grinned. She seemed more motivated to do this than ever before. And I really didn’t have a problem showing her or anyone else how to do it. It was so much fun. And usually she and Declan weren’t interested in the things that I was. We were all friends, but sometimes I felt like she and Declan were going at twice the speed of everyone else around them, and it could be really annoying sometimes. They were super fun to smoke up with, but both of them could be a little high-strung or even preachy when they were just doing schoolwork. I liked writing code because it was relaxing. And honestly, it was one of those things that I just understood right away. And it was a thing that Tate and Declan had no idea about. Declan was even worse than Tate. He was big into his hippie idea that we should get rid of technology altogether.
I didn’t know what exactly Tate would do with the things I taught her. She could be wild sometimes, but I’d known Tate all my life. She had been my friend since we were little girls, and she could be unpredictable. But there was one thing I did know—she was good at everything she did. I had no reason to think it would be any other way for learning how to hack.
It’s not like me and Ally had some great relationship before Graham moved in next door. But things got weird after that. Really weird. Since Graham showed up, Allyson was always around. Suddenly she’s just there. I’d look up at the skate park and there she was sitting on the rim. Watching us with that cute sheepish look she used to have when we were kids. That almost never happened before. I can probably count on one hand the number of times she’d come with me to skate—and usually it’s to guilt me into going home and doing homework, which I have to say worked. I mean it would make me mad that she was just sitting there quietly exerting her goody-goody power over me, but it did make me go write papers I needed to hand in. But that day I remember it was just whacked-out. I thought she was supposed to be at work! Anyway, I rolled my eyes and waved to her—didn’t want to be rude. But then the next time I went up the arc she was gone.
And again another time—I thought she was out with her friends after school. Dad was gone as always down by the harbor and Mom was God knows where—off to some Rah-Rah-Rockland event—and I thought I had the room and Declan all to myself.
The autumn sun was shining in the window, the air was cool and crisp, warm light spilled across the bed, and I had unbuttoned the top button of his jeans. He slid his thigh between my legs and pressed against me and pulled my shirt up over my head. His breath was sweet and smoky and I pulled him tighter to me and then . . .
Ally barged into the fucking room and just stood there with her mouth open in shock!
“Ugh!” I shouted, leaning over and grabbing my shoe and hurtling it at the door just as she shut it.
“What?” Declan asked. “God, chill, baby.”
“Nothing, never mind.”
He tried to kiss me again, but I just laid my head on his chest. Ally ruined the mood. I should have known something was up right then. I should have figured out why she was interrupting me, why she was hanging around. Why we seemed to be getting closer and yet more angry and annoyed with each other. It was like I could feel her feelings for Graham and they were somehow pulling me closer to him too.