Chapter 15: Free Copy

Ben took the chain off the door.

Brooks stepped in, shook rain off his hoodie, and held the phone out.

"I've got till seven," he said. "He sleeps in on Sundays."

"But his alarm goes off at seven for the gym, even when he doesn't go."

"How is it unlocked?" Ben asked.

"He's used the same code since freshman year. I watched him type it a hundred times."

Brooks wiped his face.

"And I put the auto-lock on never, before he went to bed."

"Why?" I said.

He looked at me for the first time.

"Because I laughed at your set," he said. "On Thursday. I was in the front row with my phone up."

"I remember."

"I'm not proud of it."

Nobody told him it was all right.

Ben put out his hand, and Brooks gave him the phone.

Ben read the screen, and I watched his jaw go hard.

"Let me see," I said.

He held it so we could both read.

The thread was called Alder Crew, and it had four names in it, Brooks's among them.

The oldest message on the screen was from the Saturday of the jacket, a few hours before I ever got there.

Preston had written: "Poet finally sent me his thing. Nine o'clock tonight."

Under it, one of the others had written: "Who's the girl?"

Preston had written: "Doesn't matter. It's for Sage. Girl nobody knows loses a jacket, girl everybody knows gets sad for her."

I read it twice.

Ben turned the screen up a little and scrolled.

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