Her eyes, his lies

Chapter 18

Even with her best efforts to conceal her inner turmoil, Watson's normally scowling face showed a surprising amount of concern for Jane. She wanted to look in the mirror and see what exactly had tipped him off, but decided against it. The last thing she needed right now was another pang of self-loathing.

She'd just made out with a boy for the first time in her life, and it had all been a sham. A ruse. Something born entirely of desperation and paranoia.

Ryder's phone was a dull weight in her pants pocket. If all of this was wrong, and it turned out that Ryder had indeed been telling her the truth, she hoped he would forgive her.

"Y'alright?" Watson asked.

The headlights illuminated the empty road before them, sidewalks bathed in off-orange light, the cracks seeming deeper than they were during the day. It felt like another world, one devoid of people.

"I got his phone instead," said Jane, her tone even. "The plan wasn't gonna work."

Watson's hands were at ten-and-two on the wheel, and a recently extinguished cigarette smoked faintly from the ashtray between them. He looked like he was going to say something, but Jane interrupted him.

"It was the tech."

"Huh?" asked Watson.

"The sim it's- well, his phone doesn't work with it. So much for as good as it gets." The sentence ended with slightly more bitterness than Jane intended, and she could practically feel Watson's sidelong glance at her from the driver seat. Jane looked away, guiltily. It wasn't anyone's fault. She'd chosen this path at every turn.

The street was flowing by slowly, the orange street-light forming faint halos against the dark of the car windows.

Jane lifted the folder of evidence from the dashboard, and rifled through it once more. Of particular interest to her were the photographs Watson had taken. They were shot from a distance, and obviously captured by a tiny digital camera. The resolution was abysmal, and Jane could just barely make out the facial features of the men in the pictures. Mr. Jackson, shaking hands with the principle of Alexander High. Mr. Jackson, checking his watch. Mr. Jackson at the mayoral election, waving with both hands as he is elected in by a landslide vote. His smile was radiant, and perfect. Practiced, much like Ryder's was, but with none of the youthful optimism and friendliness that the younger Jackson held.

Ryder's confused face from beneath flashed through Jane's mind. His eyes had been wide, a mix of desire and curiosity tinging them. She shook her head.

The feeling was there once more, scratching against her waking mind, the unconscious desiring to be heard. Something was off, but she did not know what. The feeling was a scab and her thoughts would not stop picking at it, obsessively itching against something it shouldn't be.

Jane blinked, bleary and strung out. She was so tired.

Watson maneuvered the car into the parking lot of the same convenience store from last night. Unsurprisingly, it was empty, though a single employee manned the cashier. Jane followed his slow movements through the windows of the store.

Watson reached for the keys reflexively, intending to shut off the engine, but looked at Jane instead. She was quickly becoming uncomfortable with how gently he was treating her now, as if she were suddenly made of glass.

"Guessing you're staying here?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Jane looked through the windscreen, the store's neon sign glowing strongly through the tinting of the glass. She nodded.