Page 98 of Troublemaker: The Big Picture Edition

Not about Ryder. About me. About us. About how crazy this situation is. It makes no sense that I’m choosing tonotsee Alex Vega when the Opposite of Him was at the door just now. A stubborn, cardigan-sporting person who hasactuallylimited me in life. Alex only ever wanted to help.

The battery’s about to die, so I plug my phone in. Just as I do, I get an incoming call from Alex Vega. I kneel down on the floor and answer while it’s still plugged in. “Hello?”

“Hi.” He does not sound happy. “Have you seen Ryder, by any chance?”

“Today? No.” It’s Saturday. “Oh no—what’s wrong?”

I can hear him scrubbing his stubbled face with the palm of his hand. He’s stressed. “He was at Cheyenne’s house for a playdate, and he left before Nova went to pick him up. He’s supposed to stay with her tonight, and I’m guessing he didn’t want to. Cheyenne isn’t saying where he went. She might not know. Her house isn’t far from yours, so I thought maybe he went to see you.”

“Well, when did he leave?”

“I don’t know. Nova just got there and called me, freaking out. I gotta make a few calls. I just can’t believe he didn’t callme.”

“Does he have a phone?”

“No. He’s seven.”

“Right. I can call everyone in my class if you want me to. What can I do?”

“I’ll call a few people and call you back.”

He hangs up.

I feel sick.

I feel responsible somehow.

Franklin walks down the hall and stops by my room. “Is there someone at the door? I heard a guy talking.”

I groan. “It was Brent. I told him to leave. Is he still there?”

“Are you kidding me?Areyou kidding me?” Franklin rolls up his silk Dolce and Gabbana shirt sleeves. I don’t know if anyone has ever been intimidated by a beautiful man with perfectly sculpted eyebrows in a silk shirt, but he’s about as angry as I’ve ever seen him. “Not on my property. No way.” He marches to the front door, and I follow him.

We find Brent on the bottom step of the porch, looking at his phone.

He is startled by the way Franklin opens the door and stomps out, but when he sees us, he just smirks. “Good,” he says to me. “I was about to call you.”

“Were you talking to someone?” I ask.

He waves his hand dismissively. “Some kid. I asked him what he was doing here, and he said ‘who the hell are you?’ I was like, ‘I’m Emilia’s boyfriend. Who the hell are you?’ And he got this weird look on his face and ran off.”

I slap my forehead. “He ran off? Was he with anyone?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Did you see which way he went?”

“That way, I guess.” He gestures vaguely in one direction. “Are you coming to lunch with me? You aren’t going like that, are you?” He eyes my jeans and sweater.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I get up in his face as I head for the front gate. “I love that little boy, and he is the son of the man I love, you asshole. I never want to see you again.” I mutter one last “Fuck you, Brent” so I don’t disturb the neighbors and speed-walk down the street, calling out Ryder’s name.

I hear Franklin yelling, “Get off my property, or I will call the police. Actually, I’m calling the fashion police right now,beige pants!”

“You’re the one wearing pajamas.”

“Oh, hell no, you didn’t!”

I look over my shoulder and see Brent heading for his car.