Class Dictator

Wrong Number

The group all meets at the garage and try to shift through the warehouse in hopes to find out more about Kyle. As of now, Kyle is our new target. Tyson and Lincoln are irrelevant.

Derrick is downstairs in the cars, looking in every possible place for papers or left over equipment. Gwen and Amy are upstairs shifting the couches and searching under the cushions. Joel opens several files, recent searches, and visited websites for any clues. I'm in Kyle's office with Rachel as we tear through all of the drawers and papers. Nothing.

"He wiped this place clean," Rachel concludes.

I step out and turn around to face Joel. "Is there anything on the computer?"

"Nothing," he shouts back as he still peers at the screen. "All of the history is deleted and anything else is cleared or locked away."

"On the bright side, I found some potato chips under the passenger seat." Derrick come out from the car holding his prize. He then takes a loud bite that sounds exactly like what a chip shouldn't sound like. It surely has been there for some time.

Gwen leans over railing and sees the whole thing. "Ew!" I bet that's what we all thought. "Why would you do that?" She chuckles between each word.

Loud and proud, Derrick replies that "a chip is still a chip."

We give up on finding anymore hints on Kyle. Derrick and Gwen sit at the lounge while Amy and Rachel pick out some pizza slices from the fridge and talk in the kitchen. As every gets comfortable, I receive a call as soon as I begin to walk upstairs. I stop there and pick up the phone.

"Hello."

"Hey, Bailic." I don't recognize the voice. "It's your buddy, Quinn." Now it seems familiar.

I try to keep my cool and keep a calm voice. "How'd you get my number?"

"Calm down, Wyatt. This is a once in a lifetime deal."

"How'd you get my number?" So much for being calm.

"Go somewhere that you won't be bothered at. I'll explain and answer everything there." I check over my shoulders to see if anyone has noticed the worry I'm surely showing. I quickly head to the bathroom, lock the door, and pace with the phone to my ear.

"Talk."

"Kyle gave the catering staff at Carol's ceremony so they can contact you. She got it from a student and gave it to me."

"Aren't you arrested?"

"Probation ended yesterday. I dropped out I decided to lay low... forever. Good job on Carol and Marie. Small cliques but still good targets."

"Why are you calling?"

"I know Kyle's plan to take everyone out on Tyson's birthday. You nameless don't stop, do you?"

"We aren't doing the attack. It's too extreme for us."

"That's great, Wyatt. However, your buddies aren't the only nameless. Kyle has sophomores and juniors who work with him. He takes a new group every year to do all the dirty work as they stay behind the curtains untouched. you're nothing but a pawn."

"So you know about the guy with dreadlocks kissing Marie at your party? You really trusted him."

"Dread kissed Marie? I'm impressed. I didn't know because he joined at the start of the year. I guess he wanted a little goodbye present before he went. Good to see you have some knowledge too."

"How is he getting the equipment?" I can hear the anger in my voice as I continue to pace.

"He has a friend with strong ties in France. Kyle has a big reach, Wyatt. His little buddy is giving him anything he needs directly to his doorstep."

"Are the cliques connected?" I'm just asking any question while I have a chance.

I hear Quinn laugh. "Oh, Bailic. We are always connected. Some more than others," I hear a knock over the phone. "So sorry, buddy. Carol and Marie are here to have some fun and I don't want to be a bad host. Goodbye, Wyatt."

"Qui--" the line goes dead.

I look deeply into the bathroom mirror. Maybe some answers will come to me. It's highly unlikely, but I just need to feel like I have something. If only we had some way of ending a war without starting one. I don't want to have bloody hands but stepping away won't solve anything. It then all hits me at once. A solution.

Never teach somebody how to fight. You may end up facing them. That is Kyle's greatest error.