Chapter Three

Amber

“You’re good to ride home with Jake, right?” I asked Hannah while we dropped books off in our lockers.

She wore a cheesy grin as she closed her locker door. “Oh, you know I am.”

I laughed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just excited for you,” she said. “A cool after-hours computer club? With Dean? Sounds pretty…romantic.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please stop. You’re killing me with all the gushy stuff.” I sighed. “Besides, the idea of Code Club is actually pretty sad. The true grit of what we do is underground, not…you know, in a school club approved by Tanner himself.”

And I suddenly wondered why the principal would approve something like this. Especially after the fiasco this morning. Add to it that Dean had been front row and center to the train wreck? Something didn’t add up.

Maybe the club would look good for whatever information he compiled over the year to keep his job? Did he think having a coding club would make him look more progressive? If that was the case, he should’ve asked me—a girl—to do it. Not that Dean wouldn’t nail it…but girls—to my utter disappointment—made a small percentage of coders across the nation. There were only five others in Griffin’s class. And I wanted to see those numbers soar. I’d tried and failed miserably to recruit Hannah into coding, but she didn’t have the patience or the interest.

Either way, it didn’t stop me from jumping at any chance to test my skills against Dean’s.

“Whatever, hacker. Act like you’re not bouncing up and down inside at the idea of clicking Dean’s keys late into the night.”

I scoffed, gently nudging her shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

She stepped closer to me, lowering her voice. “I think it would be good for you. To…” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Spend some time with a boy who isn’t Brandon.”

The memories of my last relationship twisted my stomach. “I hang with Jake all the time,” I said, my tone missing the joking beat I’d intended. I glanced behind her, motioning to Jake walking toward us.

“That is so not the same.” She spun around, instantly melting into his open arms.

Damn, these two were so sweet it was almost disgusting. If I didn’t love them both I would be totally, absolutely…jealous of them.

Jake brushed some of Hannah’s hair off her shoulder and then planted a quick kiss on her lips. The motions were so natural, so effortless. Hannah didn’t hesitate when Jake reached for her, she didn’t flinch when he outwardly showed affection. There was a hard-earned trust between them, gleaned from years of friendship and compassion. And they had a sixth sense when it came to sneaking the intimate moments during school—like they had a teacher radar that alerted them whenever one was close. Practice makes perfect ftw.

I didn’t need to spend time with any other guys to know that not every male was a dick like Brandon—who thought of women as a game. Something made for him to enjoy.

Not that he’d always been like that, or shown me that side of him right away. In the beginning, he was nice. Funny. Smart. Attentive. We’d been friends before we’d dated. We had fun. I’d never seen him treat another girl like he’d treated me in the end…and maybe that was the game he played. Prince Charming until he didn’t get his way.

A cold chill raced down my spine.

Not all boys were like him.

All I had to do was watch how Jake treated Hannah to know that maybe someday I’d find someone who wouldn’t push me where I didn’t want to go or shame me for not wanting to go there.

But, then again, what Hannah and Jake had was clearly true love. And not everyone was guaranteed their happily ever after.

“You riding with me or Amber today, babe?” Jake asked, one arm draped over her shoulder.

“You,” she said without glancing up at him. Her eyes were on mine, perceptive and too knowing. There was a flash of pity mixed with anger. She knew my thoughts had turned to Brandon and everything that had happened between us. “He’s a dick,” she said again, no need to explain who she was calling out. “You want me to stay? I can sit with you while you hack.”

The gesture was enough to warm the ice crystallizing over my heart.

“Who’s a dick?” Jake asked.

Hannah gave him a quick duh glare.

“Ohhh,” he said, nodding. His brow knitted in the middle. “Did something happen again? I’ll fuck him up. Just say the word.”

“No,” I said, mustering a genuine smile. “Thank you.” I shrugged. “I’m going to have fun giving Winters hell over this new club.”

Hannah clapped her hands together. “Yay! Okay,” she said, wrapping me in a fast hug. “Text me later with all the details. I’ll want to know everything.”

“It’ll be coding talk. That’s all that will happen.”

“Sure, sure.” She waggled her eyebrows and interlocked her fingers with Jake’s. “And we’re going to go study.”

“You two are disgusting.”

“Love you!” she called over her shoulder as they walked down the hallway toward the school’s exit.

“Love!” I hollered back, already turning toward the coding room.

My heart sped as I neared the entryway, the door wide open but the interior quiet. Such a contrast from the normal school day. Nearly everyone on campus was already in or headed toward the parking lot, ready to put this day behind them.

I turned the corner, pausing a few steps in, my breath catching.

Dean had picked a desk in the far corner of the room, his custom laptop out, his headphones on and over his ears. They made his shaggy hair ruffle even more, and his sharp eyes were locked on the screen.

I wetted my lips, stepping farther into the room.

He continued to click away, fast and sure and steady.

Locked in.

Not about to interrupt, I sank into a desk a few away from him, and set up my own gear. Before I opened a capture the flag pwn challenge, I scanned the empty room. It wasn’t a total shock that no one from coding class had shown up, but I assumed Mr. Griffin at least would be here.

They don’t know what they’re missing.

I slipped on my custom Loki emblem headphones, cranking my electronic list on Spotify, and set my fingers on the keys. The sweet repetitive beats pulsed and thrummed in my ears, each thump taking me further away from the room and deeper into the task.

An hour later, I’d captured the flag by exploiting the program to gain remote coding execution. I rolled my neck, sighing with the release of a completed challenge. The angle locked me onto a pair of blue-gray eyes and I jolted.

Hi. Dean mouthed the word despite sitting in a chair an arm’s length away.

I furrowed my brow. “Hi!” The second the loud word left my lips, I realized my playlist still blared in my head. I yanked off my headphones, laying them on the desk next to my laptop. “Sorry,” I said much quieter.

“How long have you been here?”

I glanced at my cell. “A little over an hour?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I leaned back in my chair, stretching out of my stiff position. “I’d never break your rhythm.”

He pursed his lips, nodding. “Nice.” He glanced back at his gear. “I didn’t expect anyone to show up. After fixing some things on the school site, I launched right into a password cracking algorithm I’ve been working on.”

“Tanner has you maintaining the site?” I chuckled. “That sounds thrilling.”

“Riveting stuff,” he said.

“I just owned in capture the flag. A pwn challenge. I had to locally exploit the server and then use it against itself. Found the flag after switching up the language.”

Dean whistled, sitting in the chair right next to mine. He placed his elbows on his knees, putting him eye level with me. “Clever.”

I shrugged. “It happens sometimes.”

“Which site? CTFtime?”

“Pwnable. You know it?”

“I haven’t done one in a few months, but yeah. They’ve got some good challenges.”

The earbuds buzzed on my desk as my playlist switched to a new song, and I shifted to end it on my cell.

“Is that deadmau5?”

“Yeah,” I said, watching him. “You know him?”

“Hell yes,” he said. “‘Animal Rights’ is on almost every one of my lists.”

“Are you messing with me?” I asked, suddenly wary he’d snuck into my system and snagged all my info. That wasn’t his style, but still. How was it possible we loved the same DJ and he’d just named my favorite song?

“If I was going to mess with you,” he said, smirking like he could read my mind, “it would be infinitely more involved than stealing a playlist.”

A warm shiver danced down my spine as he licked his lips, that damn smirk both inviting and a warning sign.

“True,” I said, hating the crack in my voice. It was hard to focus with him so close, his eyes on mine. He smelled like Red Bull and cedar and I was hard pressed to remember what exactly we were talking about. “You do WebWars?” I asked, noticing a patch on his messenger bag.

“I did last year,” he said, rubbing his palms together where they hung between his knees. “And I’ve just earned my ticket to the Tournament of Champions this year.”

My eyebrows rose. Damn, he was even better than I thought. The TOC, or Tournament of Champions, was a prestigious cyber intelligence competition held every year. The winner not only received major bragging rights, but a trophy, a ticket to next year’s tourney, and an all-expenses-paid boot camp of their choice. Add to that all the connections to VIPs employed by top corporations, it was the competition to enter.

“Damn it,” I said, crossing one leg over the other. “That settles it then. You are a better hacker than me.” My shoulders sank a little at the thought. There was something about being better than the infamous Dean Winters that totally would’ve boosted my confidence.

“What?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “That is impossible to tell.”

I scoffed. “I tried and failed to get into the TOC.” Though, in all fairness, I hadn’t configured my equipment to the optimum performance standards that I knew about now, and a few seconds had cost me a ticket, but still. He was going. I wasn’t. And the competition was beyond insane—all ages could compete, meaning there were veteran hackers who had started movements all the way to pre-teens wanting to be the next Google intern.

“Which day did you compete on?” he asked.

“Two. You?”

“Three.”

“Well,” I said, sucking in a sharp breath. “I’ll come watch you. If you want support.”

“I’d love to have you there,” he said, and it actually sounded like he meant it. “But…”

Oh shoot me now.

“It’s in Boston this year, second week of March. Wouldn’t want to rob you of pre-spring-break-parties.”

Sure, Boston was over two hours away, but it would be worth the haul to watch him win.

“Parties? Have you spotted me at many this summer?” Ice splintered in my stomach—I hadn’t been to a party since Brandon. Since…

“No,” he admitted. “Not that I’ve been hitting many, either, though.” He glanced back at his gear. “I lose time.”

“Me, too.” I nodded. “Brandon always gave me shit about wanting to spend time with my computer over doing keg stands or Jell-O shots.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and I shifted in my seat.

Damn Hannah for making me think about my ex too many times today. Not that I could totally blame her. I constantly saw the guy in the halls. Usually that’s when I sprinted in the opposite direction with acid building in my throat threatening to spew Exorcist style. I totally needed to get a handle on that reaction, but I was lost on how to do so.

“Brandon is a dick.” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he leaned back in his seat.

I pressed my lips together, trying to contain my shock. They weren’t friends, but most of the school adored Brandon. The star football player who won Wilmont championships, maintained a 4.0 GPA, and threw all-expenses-paid ragers.

Not many people knew what he turned into when he drank said Jell-O shots.

My skin prickled and I folded my arms over my chest.

“Sorry,” Dean said. “I know he’s your boyfriend—”

“He so isn’t my boyfriend,” I cut him off.

“What?” Dean cleared his throat. “I mean…when did that happen?” He leaned on his knees again, the warmth from his shift in movement soothing the cold in my veins.

“A couple months ago.”

“I didn’t know.”

I chuckled again. “I didn’t post it on a blog or anything.”

He laughed, too, and damn if it didn’t unwind my clenched muscles. “Noted.”

I waved my hand like I could shoo the subject away. “So…Code Club.” I said the words with a shit-eating grin.

“I know.” Dean cringed, rubbing his palms over his face.

“I mean, you could’ve at least come up with a better name.”

“Wouldn’t have helped, would it?” He smirked.

“Nope.”

“Tanner made me do this.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Because of the presentation?”

He nodded, smacking his hands on his jeans. “Like I could’ve stopped it.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” I said, and he arched a brow at me.

“You’re not going to ask if I did it?”

“No.” I shook my head. “One, if you wanted to pull something on Tanner, it would’ve been a hell of a lot more stealth than whatever that was this morning.” My heart stuttered when he smiled. “And two,” I pushed on. “There would be no trace of you there. No reason for you to get punished.”

He inched closer to me, studying. The breath in my lungs stalled, heat raking across my skin like flames.

“You’re one to watch, PixieBurn.” He leaned back again.

I jolted at the use of my alias but quickly adjusted. “Whatever you say, NightLocker.”

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

I sucked my teeth. “Now, what are we supposed to do in this club?”

“I’m supposed to tutor all our interested classmates.” He dramatically looked around the empty room. “That and maintain the school’s website. Which will take me all of two seconds each club. So…whatever we want, I guess,” he said, shrugging. “I mean, as long as Tanner forces me to hold it. I’ll be here. Three times a week…”

“For the rest of your life,” I joked.

“Tanner would like it that way.”

I groaned. “I wasn’t totally unhappy to see him humiliated today.” The man cared about two things: his awards from the district and state boards and the grants/bonuses he received because of his outstanding student performances. And after what Hannah said about his job…God, he’d likely get worse.

“Whoever did it sure fucked me over,” he said, and I softened my features.

“Totally. Sucks.” The conversation with Hannah this morning, the presentation, and the crazy prank all swirled in my head, an idea taking shape in my mind. “You know,” I said, “someone should really put him in his place. Someone with more tact.”

Dean arched a brow at me. “Careful,” he warned. “You sound dangerously close to posing a challenge.”

I hadn’t been…but the boy was always one step ahead of me.

“Maybe I am.”

“Terms?”

Heat flooded my cheeks at the spark in his eyes, the excitement mirrored in my own. He loved the rush of a challenge as much as I did. I had never felt that kind of camaraderie before.

“Rile up Principal Tanner, of course. Call it our epic senior year hack.”

“And the winner gets?”

“Besides bragging rights?” I bit my bottom lip. Most challenges between hackers were kept low-key, the bragging rights being the sole focus of the challenge—in the end, topping another skilled hacker was the ultimate prize. But a little added incentive never hurt. “A deadmau5 T-shirt.”

Dean smiled, tipping his chin up. “Rules?”

I sighed, nodding.

Rules. There always had to be rules.

While we liked to work beyond normal limits, it was unwise to work without a net.

“It has to be white hat,” I said. “No one can get hurt, livelihood or otherwise.”

“Naturally.”

“And it has to be a secret between us. No one can know. Siblings included.” I eyed him, knowing how close he was with his sister.

“Then friends can’t, either,” he countered.

“Of course.” Hannah wouldn’t want to know anyway. Not about a stunt this big. Not that I had a clue what I’d do yet.

“Timeframe?”

“Spring break? So, that gives us a little over six months?” I smirked. “Maybe I’ll win and it’ll soften the blow of not competing against you at the TOC.”

Dean continued to look down at me with those blue-gray eyes. I tried not to budge. Tried to present a strong, independent front. Inside I was trembling. The rush of a bet, of a challenge with a more than formidable opponent, it was a high I didn’t want to end.

“Deal,” he said, sticking out his hand.

I took it, chills ghosting my skin as he wrapped his fingers over mine. We shook hands, and his was so warm. Electric shocks buzzed were we connected, and I kept shaking his hand until he finally arched a brow at me.

Quickly I dropped it, brushing back some hair that had fallen over my eyes.

“Did we just turn a principal-appointed club into command central for the ultimate prank against him?” Dean asked.

I stood, gathering my gear. “Too much for day one?”

“Nah,” he said, grabbing his stuff and walking me toward the door. “Just the right amount.”

We walked silently to the parking lot, our cars not far from each other in the near-vacant lot.

“You have an idea what you’ll do?” he called to me from his car.

“No.” I tilted my head. “Do you?”

He smirked. “Oh yeah.”

I narrowed my eyes. He might be totally gorgeous and smell like a dream, but I was never one to back down from a competition. “Mine will be better.”

“We’ll see, Pixie.”

“Whatever, Locker.” I glared at him, but there was a full-on smile over my lips.

“I’m really glad you showed up,” he said. “This is going to be fun.” He winked at me before getting in his car and driving away.

I sat behind the wheel of my car, cranking my music as I tried to get my heart to stop racing.

Dean was right.

Code Club just got a whole lot more interesting.