Chapter 53 (Dealing with a Bully [Part 10]) – The Heist

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. My hand hovers over my phone screen, finger positioned over the call button for my prepaid phone. This is it. The moment of truth. The culmination of two days of practice that left my fingers cramping as I repeatedly robbed my own jacket.

RING!

The bell rings, signaling that classes will be starting soon.

Students immediately start moving, a synchronized rush toward classrooms like salmon swimming upstream, except less majestic and more "oh shit I'm gonna be late." Jack and his friends talk for a beat longer, then they also start moving toward their respective classes.

From my position leaning against the locker, I naturally start walking behind Jack. I study the way he walks, matching my rhythm to his. It's surprisingly easy, his stride is confident, casual, the kind of walk that says "I've never been insecure about anything in my life." His jacket bounces freely as he strides forward, the fabric swaying with each step.

I'm right behind him now. Close enough that I could reach his pocket just by reaching out.

My heart is doing its best impression of a jackhammer and my palms are sweaty, but I force myself to stay calm. Slow and smooth beats fast and sloppy, I remind myself. Be the tortoise. The very illegal, morally questionable tortoise.

We're approaching the spot where I placed the prepaid phone. Ten feet. Five feet. Three feet.

Now.

I hit the call button.

BRNG! HONK! BRR! BRNG! HONK! BRR!

The prepaid phone erupts with the most obnoxious ringtone known to mankind. Several students jump slightly, heads turning toward the noise. Someone laughs. Someone else mutters "what the hell?"

Perfect.

"What the fuck?" Jack mutters, slowing down and turning left to look for the source of the noise.

And that's my cue. I step in even closer to Jack as he turns.

With the distraction working exactly as planned, I slowly slip my hand into his left jacket pocket. With him turning left, the pocket naturally swings slightly away from his body, making it even easier for me to gain access to it.

My fingers make contact with the smooth glass and metal of his phone.

With my hand solidly in his pocket, I also pretend to turn left, blending in with the students around me who are all looking for the noise. I'm just part of the confused crowd.

I get a solid grip on the phone with my fingers, and begin gently pulling my hand out. Every muscle in my body is screaming at me to just yank it out and run, but I force myself to move with deliberate slowness. Smooth. Controlled. Like I'm defusing a bomb, except the bomb is a phone and the explosion would be Jack Richardson beating my ass.

At the same time, with my left hand, I end the call.

The hallway goes quiet again, or at least as quiet as a hallway full of teenagers can be. A few students chuckle at the strange situation.

Jack looks a moment longer, his eyes scanning the base of the lockers, then shrugs. He turns and begins walking again.

I turn with him, our synchronized movement allowing me to naturally drag the phone out of his pocket in one smooth motion. The fabric slides over my knuckles, over the phone, and then—

I'm holding it.

Jack's phone is in my hand.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and casually place my hands, along with my prize, into my pants pockets. My heart is still racing, but I force my expression to remain neutral. Just another bored student walking to class. Nothing to see here. Definitely didn't just commit a felony.

Holy. Shit. I did it.

I actually did it…

Well. Step one complete. Very nice.

I look around casually. Everyone is distracted, preoccupied with rushing to class before the late bell. No one's paying attention to me. No one saw anything. I'm invisible.

I slow down gradually, letting the crowd flow past me. Then I turn around and slowly make my way back to the location where I placed my prepaid phone.

It's still there, tucked into the shadow at the base of the locker where I left it. I pick it up, turn it off, and slip it into my pocket.

I head to my class, settling into my seat with what I hope looks like casual normalcy. Once I'm sure no one's paying attention, I take out Jack's phone and examine it under my desk.

It's a sleek, black iPhone. The newest model, of course. Because why wouldn't Jack Richardson have the newest, most expensive everything? The screen is pristine, not a scratch on it.

I power it down, watching the screen fade to black.

Now I wait for lunch.

I pay absolutely zero attention in any of my classes.

Like, none. Zilch. Nada. I'm physically present but mentally I'm just running through today's plan on an endless loop. Get Jack's phone. Check. Get the passcode. In progress. Access his phone during football practice. Pending.

For once, I can't even pay attention during Luna time. My brain is just too occupied with the whole "I'm currently in possession of stolen property" thing. I mean, sure, I've done some illegal things in my life. But those were barely illegal things. Like downloading stuff off The Pirate Bay, or jaywalking, or that one time I lied about my age to access certain… websites. But this... this is very illegal. Like, "actual criminal charges" illegal.

I shake myself mentally. No! This is my precious daily Luna time! The highlight of my school day! The one class where I actually look forward to being here! Don't zone out now!

"So... my dad... he sent over... a bodyguard..." Luna says softly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her hoodie sleeve.

Wait, what? Oh, oh yeah! Wow, I didn't expect this to happen so quickly.

"That's great!" I say, and I genuinely mean it. The thought of Luna being safer, with someone professional protecting her, makes the knot of anxiety in my chest loosen just a bit. "When did she arrive?"

"This morning…” Luna's voice gets even quieter. "She's... kind of scary though..."

I lean in slightly so I can hear her better. "Scary how?"

"She's really... intense... And pretty... but... cold..." Luna makes a small gesture, like she's trying to find the right words. "She doesn't... smile... or anything... Just stares at everything..."

That's actually pretty reassuring, in a weird way. Someone who takes the job seriously is probably what Luna needs right now.

"Well, as long as she keeps you safe, right?" I smile at her. "Though I guess this means I'm fired from my walking-you-home duties?"

Luna's eyes widen slightly and she shakes her head quickly. "No! I mean... if you still... want to... I'd really like it... if you kept walking with me..." Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. "It's nice... having you there..."

My heart does something complicated in my chest. God, she's cute. "Aw, then of course I'll keep walking with you! I enjoy it!"

A small smile crosses her face, and she nods, seeming relieved.

I glance at my phone under the desk. Five minutes until lunch. I need to set up phase two.

"Hey, Luna? I might be a few minutes late to lunch today. Could you head over without me?"

She tilts her head slightly, curious, but doesn't push for details. "Okay... I'll see you there..."

"Thanks. I promise I won't take long."

As class winds down, I raise my hand.

"Mr. Zhao? Could I go to the bathroom?"

He glances up from his desk, and nods absently. "Be quick."

I leave class early, trying to look casual despite the fact that my heart rate is climbing again. Once I'm in the hallway, I carefully look around for any potential witnesses. A few students are wandering around (bathroom breaks, probably) but none of them are paying attention to me.

I pull my hoodie up, transforming back into Generic Forgettable Student #67, and head toward Jack's locker. My hands are shaking slightly as I pull out his phone and turn it back on. The Apple logo glows on the screen for a moment, then fades.

Then I place it face up, right in front of his locker.

Let's see if phase two works out as planned.

I walk away, positioning myself at a different spot than where I was this morning. I need a better view of Jack's phone screen when he arrives, a better angle to see what he types when he unlocks it. I find a spot about fifteen feet away, leaning against a locker in a way that looks casual but gives me a direct line of sight to his locker.

I pull out my own phone and start browsing, pretending to be absorbed in something incredibly interesting. Just another student scrolling through social media, waiting for lunch. Nothing suspicious here.

RING!

The lunch bell rings, and students immediately file out of classrooms like someone just announced free pizza in the cafeteria. The hallway fills with bodies, voices, the sound of locker doors slamming. My disguise becomes even more unnoticeable in the crowd. I'm just one more face in a sea of teenagers.

Then I see Jack.

He's taking hurried steps down the hallway, his eyes glued to the floor like he's searching for something. Which, of course, he is. His expression is this mixture of worry and annoyance, the kind of face you make when you've lost something important and are trying really hard not to panic.

As he nears the lockers, his eyes light up. He spots his phone.

He dashes past me, close enough that I could reach out and touch him, and picks up his phone, relief washing over his face. He immediately starts moving it to different angles, examining it for any damage. Checking for cracks, scratches, anything that would indicate his precious expensive phone suffered during its brief time on the floor.

Satisfied that it's intact, he begins to unlock it.

There we go! It’s great that iPhones require you to enter your PIN once they're turned off and back on. And from where I'm standing, I have the perfect angle to peek at his screen.

I watch, trying to keep my expression neutral, as he starts typing.

1.

Another 1.

Another 1.

Another 1.

Another 1.

And... another 1.

I stare.

...Are you kidding me right now?

...Seriously? His PIN is just six ones? Six consecutive ones? I did all that... for this? The man has the PIN equivalent of writing your password on a sticky note and leaving it on your monitor.

I resist the massive urge to facepalm. Barely. My hand actually twitches toward my face before I stop myself.

Well, whatever... now I know the passcode to his phone. Mission accomplished, I guess.

Jack Richardson, ladies and gentlemen. Built like a Greek god, brain like a goldfish.

Luna time goes great.

I make it to the computer science club room, and Luna's already there, sitting at one of the computers. She looks up when I enter, and her face brightens slightly. After eating, we spend the lunch period working on our respective side projects and chatting quietly about random things.

Before we leave, I clear my throat. "So, um, after school today... I might be a bit late meeting up with you. Is that okay?"

Luna looks up from her screen, purple eyes curious. "Oh... that's fine... Should I... wait by the entrance?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. I shouldn't be more than ten or fifteen minutes."

"Okay..." She pauses, then adds quietly, "I don't... mind waiting..."

"Thanks, Luna. You're the best."

She ducks her head, her purple hair falling forward to hide what I'm pretty sure is a smile.

I barely pay attention to the rest of my classes. I’m just mentally running through how I'm going to access Jack's phone during football practice.

When school finally ends, I start shadowing Jack again. I maintain a careful distance, trying to blend into the crowd of students outside.

But as I watch Jack prepare for practice, my brilliant plan hits a snag.

He doesn't place his phone in his string bag like he usually does. Instead, he puts it in his backpack.

Shit, I guess he's being careful since he's already lost his phone once today.

I follow him outside and wait at a safe distance for him to leave the field house. But his backpack stays inside, and I don't see any way of sneaking into the field house to access it. The place might as well be Fort Knox. The field house is located right behind the end-zone, and the entrance is in open view of anyone who bothers to watch. And there are cameras monitoring everyone entering and exiting.

This is not happening today.

Well, I'll try again on Wednesday. Or if he keeps his vigilance up, I'll try on Friday. He'll let down his guard one of these times. Humans are creatures of habit, and paranoia is exhausting to maintain. One of these days, he'll place his phone in the string bag and leave it next to the team manager again like he usually does.

And if worst comes to worst, if I can't access his phone any of these times, I'll just pickpocket it off him again. I've proven I can do it once. I can do it again.

Whatever... There's nothing more to be done today.

I start heading back toward the entrance. Luna's waiting for me, and I'm not about to make her wait longer than necessary. She's already been incredibly patient.

As I approach the school entrance, I spot Luna quickly, not hard to do with that distinctive purple hair. But there's someone else with her, and I slow down slightly, taking in the scene.