Reconnaissance
Val doesn’t even glance up from her phone for a moment as I sit down next to her. In one hand she has her phone, her thumb furiously working at getting out as many texts as possible. In the other, she holds a small juice box, which she’s idly sipping at.
“So… how’s it going?”
She glances up for a moment before saying, “I, like, missed you over the break! Why didn’t you call, or text, or anything?”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I, like, dropped my phone into the bath. I got this one to replace it, but I lost all my contacts.”
I notice for the first time that the phone she’s holding is an ancient cellphone, with the “Nukia” logo emblazoned on the side.
“Daddy says I can’t keep breaking stuff, even if it’s an accident, so now I get this one.”
“... it suits you.”
She punches my shoulder. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
Even though Val has completely reinvented herself over the past few years, that’s one thing that’s never changed. Her clumsiness. When we were in grade school she was so uncoordinated that she had to sit on the sidelines during PE, because she’d always hurt herself. I’ve seen her trip over nothing an absolutely incredible number of times. I still fondly remember watching her get beaned in the head with a soccer ball and then raise her arms to defend herself half a second later. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is something like her fifth or sixth phone since the beginning of high school.
She glowers at me, then goes back to furiously tapping at the keypad of her phone, sending out approximately 10 million text messages a second. It looks like having a phone as old as mankind itself hasn’t slowed her down one bit.
I’m here to do some information gathering on my current target, and if there’s anywhere to start, it’s with Val. She knows everything that goes on within our school and has a fair amount of knowledge of the goings-on outside of it.
“So… has anything cool happened recently?”
Her plush lips, currently occupied by the straw to her juice box, curl into a slight, feline smile. She has something that she’s proud of.
“Nope! Nothing at all!”
Never mind.
“Nothing?”
“Things’ve been hectic. There aren’t many rumors going around.”
“Huh.” I guess that makes sense. "Alright then, do you know anything about a Sofia Sullivan perchance?"
Once again, her lips curl into that same proud smile. She’s definitely got something this time.
“Nope!”
What the hell do I keep you around for?
“Really? Nothing at all?”
“Well… I think I recognize the last name, and it’s not exactly a common last name. I would normally go find their social media… but… y’know.”
She waves her brick phone at me.
That… is a great idea. Why the hell didn’t I think of that?
I whip out my phone and Val sidles up next to me, interestedly peering over my shoulder.
I put the name “Sofia Sullivan” into the search bar, and almost instantly get several social media pages all under that name. I click through a few of them before finding a match. A familiar strikingly beautiful face gazes up at me from my phone screen. I found her.
I scroll through a few of her pictures and see another familiar face. A tall, blonde, model-like man is present in many of her photos. This confirms my suspicion that the other player has known her far longer than she’s been a target. The further back I scroll, the more pictures I see of those 2 together. They’ve been a couple for a while.
I pause my hurried scrolling. I saw something. I don’t know what it was, but I saw something that causes me to scroll back up and look at a photo from a few months ago.
It’s captioned “Me and my little sis living it up!” The photo is of Sofia and another girl, sitting on the railing of a balcony with a beautiful view of a beach spread out behind them.
I recognize Sofia’s sister. Honestly speaking, I should’ve recognized the last name “Sullivan” way sooner than I have. I overlooked something glaringly obvious.
Octavia Sullivan, Minnie’s friend, is the other girl in this photo. Sofia Sullivan is her sister.
They’re both daughters of the most wealthy and powerful man in town, Frederick Sullivan.
That really complicates things. I know Octavia a bit, and I’m pretty confident that if I do anything to her sister she’ll castrate me. On top of that, if shit goes sideways and her dad finds out, I’m pretty fucked.
“Sam, you know you can see people she’s tagged, right?”
“... What?”
Val sighs and takes my phone from my hand. “See? right by the photo, there’s a list of people who are in it.”
I don't use social media often, so I don't really know many of the intricacies. I'm kind of a boomer in that right.
I grab the phone back and scroll back to one of the pictures with my new rival in it. If we’re going head-to-head for Sofia, I might as well learn as much as I can. He’s just tagged as “Tadeas,” so I click the link and go to his profile.
I click on his page and am immediately greeted with a post of him drinking some nasty-ass-looking diet drink. “Wouldn’t have these killer abs without this Nutri-vitamin ultra turbo deluxe protein-spinach shake with added testosterone for flavor! Make sure to use code NOTBULLSHIT for 15% off your order!”
Well… I definitely need some of that.
The account I’m looking at has over 3 million followers, and most of the posts are either him looking as hot as possible with captions like “Rise and Grind”, or sponsored garbage like the previous post. It looks like on top of being hot as all hell, he’s also rich and famous.
Fuck, man. I’m pretty confident in myself but I really don’t think my odds of winning this round are looking great.
I continue scrolling before I see a picture of him, sitting on some exercise equipment, glistening with sweat, with Sofia sitting next to him, clinging closely to his body.
The caption reads, “Couldn’t do it every day without her there every step of the way.”
… Maybe I shouldn’t even try this round? My odds are looking incredibly slim, and even if I do succeed… I’ll feel like a massive piece of shit. They’ve known each other for a long time, and are obviously romantically involved, and happy with each other. Just taking the L is seeming…
I finish reading the caption. “Love you, sis.”
… what?