But then I enter the numbers1234, and the phone buzzes.
The wordswrong passcodeflash over the screen.
I frown. Try again.
Wrong passcode.
My mouth runs dry. I’d watched Jake type in those exact numbers just this Monday, which means he must’ve changed his passcode sometime yesterday. A few more wrong attempts and I’ll be locked out of his phone for good.
But his new passcode could beanything.
I try to ignore the slow creep of despair. I can’t mess this up. I can’t.There’s no saying whether I’ll ever have the chance to access Jake’s phone again, or if it’d even matter two or three days from now, when Jake’s already sent those cursed photos out.
Besides, Henry and Chanel have already done their part. Now they’re counting on me to do mine, and more than anything else—more, even, than the idea of failure—I hate letting people down.
Okay, think,I urge myself.What numbers might be relevant to him?
I pull out my own phone, wait for what feels like an eternity for my VPN to connect, and do a quick search through Jake’s Facebook. Then I enter the date of his birthday.
Wrong passcode.
Shit. I chew on the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. Desperate, I Google a list of the most common iPhone passcodes, and try the second option after1234:0000.
Still nothing—and only one attempt left.
No, it’s fine. It’s fine.I force my breathing to steady.Don’t you dare panic. Just—just imagine you’re Jake Nguyen. You’re a straight-C student who spends his weekends clubbing and says “lol” out loud and doesn’t drink anything besides protein shakes and alcohol. You think you’re super hot because you’ve got an undercut and use a shit ton of hair wax. You’re the kind of asshole who would keep the nudes of your ex-girlfriend and threaten her with them. You...I scan the room for more information, and suppress a groan.You apparently also have an opened box of extralarge condoms sitting right on your nightstand.
Now, if you were to change your passcode, what would it be?
An idea comes to mind. A ridiculous, absolutely laughable idea.
I almost hope for Jake’s sake I’m wrong as I type in the numbers6969, but the phone doesn’t buzz this time.
And just like that, I’m in.
I shake my head, a laugh and a sigh jostling in my throat. Rainie really should’ve broken up with him sooner.
I’d feared it would take too long for me to find the actual photos, that Jake might’ve created some secret file for them or hidden them using a cryptic code he alone could decipher, but when I click into his photo album, my eyes immediately find a folder named with only the peach butt emoji.
Classy.
Rainie’s nudes show up at once, along with photos of two other girls I’ve never seen before. I delete them all, then make sure to clear them out from the “Recently Deleted” folder too.
I’m about to put the phone away when I hear footsteps. Then, Jake’s voice, slightly muffled through the door—
“You’re still here?”
I realize he must be talking to Henry. That Henry’s been outside this whole time...doing what? Standing guard? Waiting for me?
Or does he not trust me to get the job done on my own?
“Of course,” Henry says steadily. “I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“If I’m okay?” Jake echoes, a note of suspicion creeping into his voice. “Dude. It wascoffee, not poison or some shit.”
When Henry doesn’t reply to that, Jake huffs out a sigh. “Okay, man, I didn’t want it to come to this but... You’ve been hanging around here a lot, you know? Like, I know your room’s nearby and all, but I meanright here, specifically, and way more than normal. So...either you’re trying to steal something from my dorm or you’re like, secretly in love with me.”
I expect Henry to freeze up, maybe deny it or make some bad excuse and leave as soon as possible, but he replies with perfect calm, “Yes.”