Back at the Start (02)

I look over Riley's phone, impressed that it's so new. Brand new phone, an assistant, and a bodyguard? Or maybe the assistant is the bodyguard? Somehow the idea of the big guy I saw with him scheduling his dinner dates seems so silly, I hope it's true.

"Sure, I'll just call myself." I take my time, though, getting to the right place on his phone to do so. I'm taking the moment to look at what apps he has on his phone, curious what they might reveal about him.

As you hold the iPhone in your hand, it feels so sleek and light. When you glance at the home screen with its blank background, you realize this phone hasn't been used nearly as much as yours (or Soph's, or even JS's). A few apps stand out immediately. You spot a J.P. Morgan stock trading app, something called Wheels Up, which looks like a private jet booking service, Elite Limo, which is exactly what it sounds like, nestled right beside FarFetch, which looks like it caters to exclusive fashion brand shoppers. Social media apps are noticeably absent, except for Instagram on the second page of apps. What really catches your eye, though, is Confide, an app known for sending self-destructing messages.

Next, you peek at his contacts. The first few names are business-like, initials, last names, and notes that suggest powerful connections: "T. Sinclair," "B. Maddox (Mom’s Lawyer)," "K. DeVries (Publicist)." Then, under favorites, you notice "Carter (Bodyguard)" and "Annabelle (Assistant)." But what draws your attention most is the listing for his parents. His mother’s name is entered as "Yumiko Watanabe (Mom)," while his father is "Stephen McCabe (Dad)."

Do you take a pic of yourself on his phone to add to the contact?

Okay, so Riley is clearly super loaded. I wonder if he and Zeke ever traveed in the same circles? I mean, obviously Zeke's situation is a little different now than it used to be, but seeing that private jet app reminds me of the trip Zeke took me on to the Parthenon in Nashville. Without that trip, where I met Athena and was taken to Olympus...who knows where I'd be now?

Okay, so he has a publicist in his contacts. Does he need one? Either his publicist is doing a bad job publicizing him, or a great job hiding him. Or maybe I'm just not paying attention. Suddenly I really want to Google him. But I resist and instead turn on his camera, holding the phone out to take a quick selfie.

"So you don't forget who I am," I say with a laugh as I bring the phone back in. "Let me just make sure I don't look like a whale," I say, opening the photo I just took, but also stealing a second to scroll back to his most recent photo too. What does Riley deem worthy of capturing a photo of?

Riley laughs with you and politely comments about whales wishing they look like you as you scan his photos. The first shot you notice is a picture of a Japanese tea set, framed with care and excellent lightning, the set arranged neatly on a polished wooden table. You see a few pictures of Riley standing next to a poised and lovely older Japanese woman - his mother? They're both dressed up, at some event or a family gathering. In one shot, you see his mother adjusting the sleeve of his suit jacket. He seems unfazed by her action, like it's a routine with them.

There’s a selfie of Riley standing in front of a luxurious mansion, taken at a distance like he was hesitant to get too close. The home has beautifully large windows and meticulously landscaped gardens. It must be one of his parents' properties, maybe their main home in a fancy suburb near Kansas City. He took a few more of the house from different angles, none of them seem artistic, they're practical, like he was cataloging it.

You find a candid photo of a smartly dressed woman in her late twenties, you think. She's standing off to the side, looking away from the camera while in a deep conversation on her phone. It looks like Riley took it without her knowing.

Before Riley stops and politely asks for his phone, you see a last photo that stands out. It's a blurred shot of Riley, reflected in a dark glass window, his face half-hidden by shadow. It’s almost like a self-portrait, but without any clear intent, like he snapped it without thinking or realizing he was capturing something about himself. The image is strangely vulnerable, a moment of him alone, maybe unsure of something, maybe waiting for someone.

I quickly close down the app before handing Riley's phone back to him. "I'm on your radar now," I tell him, laughing like I'm teasing, but I really mean the exact opposite. He's very much on mine. The few photos I saw were intriguing, and since I didn't see much in the way of social media, they might be the only chance I get to get a window into his life. I mean, apart from the door I plan to open when I get dinner scheduled...with his assistant, apparently. Wild.

"That's a nice phone," I comment, trying to keep it casual but still curious.

I stand outside the room, amused for a beat, then head in after him. I cross by his desk and touch the top of it, smiling at him and saying, "Like I said, I'm on your radar now." I wink at him, then head over to grab a seat by Preethi. It means I'll probably be up front, but she can help with classwork in case Galinthias doesn't show up.

You enter AP Stats class to find that the back row has disappeared, forcing Steph and Skylar to move up. It makes the class seem cozy (or crowded). The seat by Preethi - in the front row - is open. She grins excitedly when you take the seat, and quickly clicks off her phone to give you her full attention.

I hide my wince when Preethi already knows what happened in the hall. I'm torn between telling her it was kind of an accident and just owning it. Saying it was an accident feels weak but kinder, owning it feels strong but meaner.

I lick my lips, huff a short laugh along with her. "He did," I echo, slightly uncertain. Then more confidently, I double down, "He totally deserved it. It's no big deal though, really. What about you? How are you doing?" I'm definitely ready to change the subject and move on.

"What? Why?" My frown deepens a little as I realize, "Wait, does that mean you can't go to the party this weekend?" I was going to introduce her to Skylar to take him off the map for JS, but if Preethi's not even there, that's going to be impossible and I'll be back to relying on JS to take my advice to heart about her not dating someone who doesn't really know who she is and how old she is.

I'm quiet for a beat, waiting for the rest of it, but then it seems like she's done.

"That's it?" I echo, trying not to let my shock make my voice too loud. "What's wrong with that?"

I cringe with second-hand embarrassment. I would die if my dad walked in on me like that. Die. It would somehow be even worse than if he walked in on me with someone else.

"Oh my gods, so frelling awkward," I answer, practically melting with how awful it sounds. "But still...she grounded you? For that?"

"Frell, Preeth," I say sympathetically. "That suuuucks." I frown a bit, not sure how I can even help. "Was it fun at least? The, ah, exploring? Before the interruption?"

My eyebrows raise and I huff a quiet laugh. "A collection? It must have been really good in that case."

I wonder, after I've said it, if I don't have a collection of my own because of how good it is - only instead of toys, it's boys...and girls...and gods.

"It doesn't sound like a collection is going to happen until after you're out of the house, though. So lame."