There were few places in Alexander Township that were fancy enough for a proper date, and Ryder knew this. It was for that exact reason that he had chosen something more atmospheric for their initial meeting; namely, the town square.

A massive spire of concrete stood at the absolute center of Alexander, a grimy metal plaque embedded in its side. It had been at least a century since it was legible, and few knew what it had once said. Below, the floor was a circular pattern of colored pebbles, separated by inlaid brick. Ryder knew that from the sky, it resembled a clock. In the day, the shadow of the spire would indicate what time it was. Or, at least, that was the rumor.

He liked that idea. An ancient time mechanism surrounded by the modern hustle of his town. Out of place, out of time. It didn’t belong here any more than he did.

Ryder himself was seated on a bench, the name of a long-forgotten mayor inscribed on the armrest. His fingers traced the shallow grooves in the metal, his mind deep in thought.

His eyes drifted to a looming brick archway, which acted as a passageway to the street. A plastic tarp hung by thin ropes beneath the arch. It displayed a photo of his father’s smiling face, adrift in a blue background, his election party slogan in contrasting yellow and white. The very image of an American politician. Family oriented, patriotic, and an utter fabrication.

This took some of the joy from his musings. Ryder was reminded of what he was doing there, in the square, with his hair gelled and his shirt awash in cologne.

“I didn’t raise you to feel, I raised you to do.” His father’s words seemed to echo within Ryder’s skull. He clenched his jaw.

This was wrong. Toying with Jane’s feelings, or anyone’s feelings for that matter, was completely wrong. He knew that. Hell, he’d experienced that. Yet he didn’t have much of a choice.

Before, when he had been in a relationship with Beatrice, he would fantasize about running away from Alexander. In his most miserable, private moments, he would picture himself just jumping in his truck, turning the key, and never looking back. He would imagine a life somewhere, free of expectations, maybe with someone he loved at his side.

Perhaps somewhere less chilly, too, he mused. Ryder’s forearms felt strangely cold without his jacket.

But that wasn’t how reality worked. Everyone he knew and everything he owned was in this town. He was paralyzed. Trapped, here, in Alexander, under his father’s thumb.

His thoughts stopped as a short, waifish figure passed beneath the archway. Her green eyes seemed almost cat-like at this distance, flashing across the square with focused alertness.

There she was, he thought. There she was.

Her red hair had been curled ever so slightly, and it spread like a veil around her shoulders. A faint breeze tossed a few strands across her face, and she reached up to brush them away. Ryder realized he was holding his breath.

He understood the gravity of what he was doing. All he had to do was find out what she knew, nothing more. There was no reason for him to hurt her any more than needed. Or himself.

Ryder stood slowly, his legs sore from the exertion of football training the day before. He waved at her. She seemed surprised to see him for a moment, before returning the gesture.

He reached her first, just before the concrete spire. They looked at each other, neither speaking, for a moment. Ryder wasn’t sure what to say.

“Hey,” Jane said.

“Hey.”

Internally, Ryder felt like shaking himself. He just needed tot find out what she knows, he reminded himself. There was no reason to complicate this. No matter how captivating her eyes were. No matter how soft her lips looked.

“You know, I’ve never actually been here before,” Jane said. She was looking up at the massive spire as it towered over the nearby buildings, its apex a triangle of rusted copper.

“Well, yeah, you’re new here,” Ryder said, before he could stop himself. His tongue felt awkward in his mouth, like it had been transformed into a blunt instrument.

She narrowed her eyes at that, as if she had caught sight of something unsavory. Ryder cleared his throat, unsure of what else to say.

This wasn’t what he had expected. Usually, situations like this were a cake walk for him. Raise an eyebrow, flash a smile, say a few flattering words, and people will love you. But, somehow, he intuitively knew that wouldn’t work on the girl before him. Somehow, it felt like she could see through him.

“I got your text.” Jane smiled, as she gazed up at him. It took him a moment to remember what she meant.

“Oh. Well- yeah, I meant it,” he replied, lamely. “I am happy you’re here.”

She looked away, her mind somewhere distant for a moment. Then they snapped back to his. His breath caught, somehow stolen by the sweep of her hair over her face.

“Are you really? Why?” she asked, features completely immobile. From his view above her, Ryder could see her hands shaking, even if her expression betrayed no emotion at all.

Ryder opened his mouth involuntarily, before he had even thought of a reply. There was nothing he could think to say. Nothing that didn’t feel like a lie that would be instantly dissected by Jane and her violently sharp mind. For a second, he wondered if Jane had discovered what his father and ordered him to do.

It was to his relief, and horror, that she chose to speak up first.

“Really, Ryder. Seriously. You didn’t ask me out because of- because you think that-” She stopped talking. Her speech was hurried, the words seeming to tumble out of her without control. A veritable stream of consciousness given form. She was visibly taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “I’m not pretty, okay? I know that. So why are we really here? What do you want from me? What’s all this about?”

His mouth stayed like that, hanging open, as he looked at her in shock. Truly, this wasn’t what he had expected. At all.

Screw it, he thought.

Then he shut his mouth, and kissed her.

She’d worked herself into a frenzy on the drive over. Watson’s comments about the heinous things Ryder’s dad had done, coupled with her own anxieties and suspicions, had lead her to some terrifying mental images. Her thoughts had taken their usual roller-coaster ride around and around her mind, generating enough of a current to make her head spin. By the time she found herself facing Ryder, she had only one thing on her mind- figuring out what he knew. And fast.

Of course, that had been before he kissed her.

The first thing she noticed, before even registering that Ryder had kissed her, was that he smelled nice. Earthy, but in a sweet way. Like the essence of a garden. Like spring, or freshly cut grass.

Then there was his lips, pressed to hers ever so softly. His hands, rough and hardened from years of athletic training, held the base of her neck in the gentlest way. Jane realized she was standing on tip-toe, leaning into him. An involuntary moan reverberated from somewhere within her chest. She was lost in the sensation.

Victoria had been right, she thought, dimly. Fireworks.

With a muted sucking sound, she pushed Ryder away, both hands pressed against his firm chest.

“Wait- wait, wait wait. What?!” Jane’s face felt like it would combust. Her cheeks glowed red hot, and her breath came in quick, uneven gasps.

“What?” Ryder asked innocently.

“Thats… That- Wait, what?” Jane knew she was repeating herself, but she could not, for the life of her, bring herself to focus on the act of speaking.

Ryder chuckled, and straightened his back. His scent dissipated with the distance, and Jane found herself wishing it would have stayed. Wishing Ryder would have stayed.

Her breathing was slowing down now, though the heat in her cheeks was still present. She wondered whether her hair or her face were redder in color.

“Does that clear everything up?” Ryder asked, breaking the silence. He looked so innocent, Jane felt like slapping him. If only she could reach that high.

Jane took a shaky breath, willing her legs to stop wobbling. “… okay,” she said, “that happened.”

“I told you. I’m not doing this as a prank, or as a dare, or anything like that,” Ryder said. He bitterly wished he was telling the truth.

She wasn’t looking at Ryder, her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. Ryder thought she looked adorable, even if she wasn’t saying anything.

“Hey, are you alright?” Ryder asked. He wanted to touch her, but was afraid that any more physical contact would scare her off.

Suddenly, she looked up at him. Her brows were fixed in an expression of utter fury, in stark contrast to her trembling lip and watering eyes.

“Don’t do that ever again,” she said. Her voice matched her face, simultaneously quivering with rage and breathy with what Ryder could only assume was shock.

Ryder reached up and smoothed his hair. Jane watched him carefully, half prepared to knock his hand away if he reached for her.

“Don’t do what?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

Now Jane really wanted to hit him. Hard.

“That! Don’t do that! Especially when I’m not expecting it.”

Ryder, to his credit, looked properly reproached. Or at least aware that he had stepped over some sort of boundary. He hung his head, as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Jane inhaled slowly, then shook her head. Just a hiccup, no big deal. Her first kiss. No big deal. Stick to the plan, Jane.

Ryder’s hands were in his pockets now. Jane looked up at him, setting her emotions aside as best as she could. “Where are we going, anyway?”

He seemed surprised, at that. His usual perfect smile made an appearance, a white flash across his face. “I’ll show you.”

Ryder strode past her, stopped, then turned around. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but was debating whether to or not.

“Can I hold your hand?” he asked, tentatively.

Jane, emotions already at their breaking point, burst out laughing. The innocent question, so at odds with his bold kiss, seemed to be the funniest thing in the world to her. She nearly doubled over in laughter, her eyes watering once more.

After a moment, Ryder found himself laughing too. He scratched the back of his head, eyebrows raised, unsure as to why Jane was laughing. All he knew was that he wanted to make her laugh more.

Jane, one hand on her heaving chest, straightened. She wiped a tear from her cheekbone, the freckles stretching momentarily.

“Okay,” she said, holding a pale hand out. Ryder took it, surprised at how small it was within his own.

Together, they passed beneath the archway, heading into the town proper.

At night, most of the businesses that lined the main boulevard of Alexander were shuttered closed. Brown and red brick formed a palisade of commercialized buildings, each sporting advertisements and signs. Ryder’s father’s posters appeared with startling regularity, as if he were an ever present fixture of the town.

Jane walked beside Ryder, needing to quicken her pace in order to keep up with his long strides. His hand engulfed her own as they strolled on the sidewalk.

She had to say something, the silence was only making her more anxious. “Wow, your dad must have spent a lot on all these posters.”

Ryder slowed his walk, eyes narrowing. “Yeah. He really likes… exposure. He says it’s all about ‘building our empire’.”

Judging by the tone of his voice, Jane assumed Ryder had less than positive views on his dad’s political campaign. Her hand was sweating within his own, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“What about you?” he asked, glancing at her. They slowed as they passed a dress shop, an expansive glass window providing passerby with a view of magnificent gowns in an array of pastel colors.

“Exposure? Not my thing, to be honest,” Jane replied, distracted. Her eyes were drawn towards a sweeping gown in pink hues.

“No, I meant your father,” Ryder said.

Jane took her eyes off the dress. “He’s not around.”

Ryder squeezed her hand. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jane nodded, unsure of what else there was to say.

They continued through the street, illuminated by the usual orange lamps that littered Alexander Township. A scant few cars rumbled lazily through the boulevard, stopping at the traffic light at the end. Ryder’s steps slowed as they approached a gap between the stores.

“Here we go,” Ryder said, taking a sharp turn down an alleyway. Jane followed him close behind, her arm pulled ahead of her. For a moment, she felt a pulse of trepidation within her chest. Where exactly was he taking her?

The alley, much like most alleys, stank. Water dripped from a perforated pipe above their heads, depositing an off-green liquid onto the ground. The puddle filled the cracks in the concrete as it spread. Any sound that originated from the street seemed to be muted, muffled from within the alley.

To her right, an overfilled dumpster hosted a small swarm of flies. The pair’s passing disturbed them, and they swarmed about in protest. Jane used her other hand to swat one away from her face.

“Ryder? Where are we going?” Jane asked, her voice tight. She didn’t like this.

“You’ll see,” he replied. Unlike her, he seemed completely calm. He must have been here before, she surmised.

If there had been any sort of lighting fixture within the alley, it had long since been destroyed, as a mess of glass shards lay in one corner. The buildings on either side of her were blocking out the moonlight, leaving only a thin strip of the night sky visible. It gave a claustrophobic feeling.

The general unkemptness of her surroundings, combined with Ryder’s mysterious comments, were adding to her uneasiness. For a moment, she wondered how hard it would be to reach Watson’s car. He had said he’d be parked close, but that was before they’d known Ryder would take her to another location.

Then the alley opened up, and the sky seemed to burst before her, a full moon rising far above the clearing. The stench vanished, instead replaced by a flowery sweetness that Jane had never encountered before. It was a garden, unlike anything she had seen so deep within the town. A square of green, flanked by the red-brick walls of the shops and stores and homes of the townsfolk. Flowers of every color stood absolutely still, protected from the breeze by the urban walls. A rainbow of nature, hidden from the eyes of passerby.

A ring of concrete encircled the center of the garden, acting as a walkway. Jane felt as if she had entered a different dimension entirely, one untouched by the hands of man.

“Wow…” she whispered, afraid that if she were too loud, the illusion would dissipate.

Ryder let go of her hand, allowing her to explore at her own pace. She passed him, gazing around in wonder.

The walls were slowly being consumed by the nature they were cloistering, vines growing in the spaces between the bricks. They extended from the ground, mere feet away from reaching the rooftops. Though the walkway was quite old, it remained uncracked, and no plants were crushed under Jane’s feet. She moved slowly, entranced.

“How’d you even find this place?” Jane asked. It was obviously forgotten, an undisturbed pocket of nature deep within the town. Very few people could have been aware of this garden, seeing as it was so overgrown.

“Pure luck,” he said, kneeling next to Jane. He brought his hand to a yellow flower, moving it gently. It rustled between a pair of leaves.

“This is kinda sudden, but can I be honest?” Ryder said. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes firmly placed on the flower. Jane noticed he was clenching his jaw, the muscles on either side bulging slightly.

“Okay,” she said.

“I envy you. I mean, with your dad, and all.”

Jane frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No- I mean… Ugh, never mind,” he said, awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound like that.”

Jane crouched next to him with a soft exhale of breath. “I get what you mean.”

He looked up from the flower. The moon seemed to glow behind her head, like a halo. Ryder’s chest tightened at the image.

“My mom isn’t the best either,” she said. “I kinda envy you too.”

Ryder chuckled, though there was no humor in it. He looked back at the flower, then took her hand once more.

“What’s she do? Your mom.”

Jane understood that he wasn’t asking about her occupation. “She drinks, like, way too much. And too often. And… she forgets my dad’s gone, when she does.”

She didn’t know why she was telling Ryder this, or why he was even asking, but it felt good to let it out. Even Victoria didn’t know about her mom’s drinking problem. It had been a burden solely reserved for Jane.

Ryder sighed, and allowed his legs to splay out beneath him. Both his hands were flat on the pavement as he relaxed into a sitting position.

“My dad’s a jerk. Just- straight up. A total douche. He used to beat on my mom and me, when I was little,” he said. “For small stuff. Almost no reason at all, actually. He liked to say it toughened us up.”

Jane copied his position, but drew her knees up to her chest. Though there was very little light in the clearing itself, the general light pollution of Alexander blotted out the stars. She stared up at the dark expanse. It seemed like an infinite void, a sea of nothing.

“Really? But he seemed so… I don’t know, fatherly, at the assembly,” Jane commented, remembering how Jackson senior had placed a supporting hand on his son’s shoulder.

Ryder laughed. “He’s a politician. Nothing he does in public is genuine.”

Jane quieted at that. It wasn’t her place to judge Ryder’s story, especially since she didn’t have the whole picture yet. She hoped she would, soon.

“Do you ever think about just leaving everything behind?” she asked. She wasn’t sure if she was talking to Ryder or herself. Perhaps it was both.

Ryder hadn’t said anything, so she glanced at him. He was looking at her with such intensity that she nearly flinched away.

“All the time,” he said, a wistful lilt to his voice.

It was Jane who reached out this time, placing her hand on his. It felt like the right thing to do.

“What were you doing that day? When you ran off in the rain?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Beatrice and her friends were harassing me,” she said.

“Beatrice? Why?” Ryder sounded dubious.

And there it was, Jane knew. The big question. If she told Ryder that she knew about the syndicate, it would truly paint a target on her back. Assuming he was working with them. Could she trust anything he said?

She shouldn’t afford to expose herself yet, not until she got the sim card inside Ryder’s phone, and confirmed for herself that he was innocent.

“I don’t know. She said something about Victoria, I think,” Jane lied.

Ryder nodded, as if in complete understanding. “Oh yeah, those two really hate each other. Different personalities, I guess.”

Jane thought back to what she’d discovered the night before, on the library’s servers. She was armed now, prepared to face Beatrice herself if it ever came down to it.

“Tell me if she ever tries that again. I’ll handle her,” Ryder said. He smiled at her.

Jane found herself returning the smile. Her phone beeped, but she ignored it. Much to her own surprise, she found that she was actually enjoying this date. She didn’t want it to be interrupted.

Ryder seemed to think it was his own phone that had sounded off, and he pulled it from within his pockets. Jane’s heart sank as she saw the outdated brick of a cell phone.

Immediately, she knew the plan wasn’t going to work.

Ryder’s phone didn’t use a sim card. The police spying equipment was useless.

Jane so badly wanted to chew her nails, but Ryder was holding her hand. He returned his phone to his pocket. She watched as her only objective disappeared beneath the fabric of Ryder’s pants.

Ryder scooted closer to her, the seat of his pants scraping against the rough surface. Their fingers intertwined, and Jane felt a familiar jitter within her gut.

“Hey, do you…” Ryder bit his lower lip. Jane found herself absolutely fascinated by the gesture.

“Do I?” Jane parroted, only half paying attention. She was desperately trying to think of something, anything that would work.

Could she somehow clone his phone? Find some other way to figure out his involvement in the syndicate? Maybe she can steal the phone, somehow? But then what?

“Do you like me?”

Jane blinked, his words not registering for a moment. Had he truly just asked her that?

“What?” she asked reflexively.

“You know, do you like me? I mean, you don’t still think I’m just some douche, do you?”

His face was so close to hers now. She could almost feel the warmth of his breath.

Jane’s thoughts were spinning again, weighing her options.

The plan wasn’t going to work. Ryder was so close. The plan wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t take her eyes off Ryder’s lips.

“Ryder,” Jane said.

“Hmm?” he replied. His face was inching ever closer, his scent filling Jane’s nostrils. Their noses were nearly touching. The flowers were so pretty in her peripheral vision, like streaks of color.

“You’re working for them, aren’t you?” Jane asked.

Ryder stopped, his fingers going dead still within her grasp. Jane’s green eyes seemed to be honed in on him, a predator cornering its prey. For the first time that night, Ryder realized he had underestimated Jane. Had underestimated her bravery, her cunning, and most of all, his feelings for her. He wouldn’t be able to dodge this question with a kiss, not this time.

“Yes,” he said, simply. He lowered his gaze to the flowers.

Something in Jane’s chest splintered. She’d suspected him, even prepared herself for the possibility that he really was what she thought he was, but it hurt. It hurt in a way that she could barely understand. What do you do when you have feelings for someone that is so obviously the wrong person?

She stood, her hands recoiling from his like they were electric.

“Wait- Jane, come on…” Ryder said. His chest hurt, too. He realized he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her again. It was too much. He was at his limit.

“You kissed me!” she shouted, her voice cracking. Her hands were balled into fists at her side as she backed away from him, her breath heaving with emotion. “You kissed me! And you made me think for a second that- you made me feel special! God, why was I so stupid?”

“It’s not like that!” Ryder realized he was shouting too. “I really do like you. Jane, please, just let me explain.”

He stood, following her. This seemed to panic her, and she quickened her backpedaling.

“Stay back!” Jane sounded suddenly terrified. “One more step and I’ll-”

Her words cut off as she felt the vines and bricks behind her. Ryder had backed her into a wall. Her eyes darted around, searching for an exit.

“Jane,” he said, “Please. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me.”

She lashed out wildly. He was just within arms reach of her, and it caught him by surprise. He stumbled backwards, eyes wide. Jane took her chance, and attempted to sprint out of the garden, but her legs tangled with Ryder’s. She fell, sprawling, over his prone body.

She lay there, on top of Ryder, gasping for breath. The fall had knocked the wind out of her, and, it seemed, Ryder as well.

“Jane,” Ryder said, evidently catching his breath first, “yes, I’ve done things for my father. Things I wish I didn’t need to, but I never had a choice. I made sure to never cross the line, to never hurt anyone. I’m not what you think I am.”

“How-” Jane tried to speak, but it was hard to breathe, “…do I know,” another breath, “-you aren’t lying?”

She looked at him, atop his chest, focusing every inch of her exhausted mind on trying to discern his expression. She had to know. Had to be absolutely sure.

“I would never let what happened to my mother happen to anybody else,” Ryder said. His voice hardened at the memory.

Jane found that she believed him. There was a conviction in his eyes, something that she didn’t think you could fake. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

She had to know for sure, the voice reminded her. She had to cover her tracks. This was no time to get sloppy.

Ryder had stopped breathing as he watched Jane for some sort of reaction. He’d never been so nervous about a girl in his entire life.

“So… you had nothing to do with what Beatrice did to me?” Jane asked, carefully.

“I swear, nothing. I didn’t even know about it until tonight.”

Their voices were steadier now, as well as their breathing. Jane could feel it slowing beneath her.

“Then what does your dad have you do for him, exactly?” she asked.

Ryder was beginning to see the ridiculousness in the situation, a tiny girl seated on his chest as she interrogated him. He could not bring himself to move her.

“You know about my dad?” He sounded surprised.

“I know a lot,” Jane said, the ghost of a smug smile on her lips. She felt anything but smug. She felt as if the floor were made of soggy paper, and she would fall through at any second. What had she been thinking, blurting out that question like that? She might have screwed up everything.

“I just collect money from people. My father lets Beatrice handle everything else. Trust me, if I weren’t there to control her, she would do a lot more damage than she already has.”

Jane was looking down at him, her hips nearly weightless on his waist. His heart quickened in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with nervousness.

She growled, and slammed a fist down on his chest. He blinked, barely feeling the impact.

“God, I can’t believe I have a crush on you!” she shouted, her other hand gripping his forearm.

She beat her fist against his chest again, though it did little more than bewilder him. Ryder reached up, and caught her hand as gently as he could.

His touch was the final blow against the dam that held her emotions back. The thin veil of self-control she still possessed broke open. She roared, tears streaming from her eyes, and lowered her mouth to his.

She had to be sure. Absolutely sure. She was so confused, and hurt, and suspicious. She had to be sure.

Ryder let out a confused sound, muffled between their lips. He tried to push her back with the hand that wasn’t held by Jane’s, but she only slapped it away. She was pressing against him, pinning him to the ground as best she could. Ryder put up only one more moment of resistance, before surrendering to the feeling. He returned the kiss with just as much fervor. Their breathing grew ragged as they drank each other in, hungrily.

Jane’s free hand groped, ever lower, passing over his shirt. He moaned into her mouth, and shut his eyes. Jane continued feeling around beneath her, prodding cautiously around his hips. Ryder raised his abdomen, assuming that she was reaching for what it seemed like she was reaching for.

Jane let go of his hand, and brought hers to his jaw, her fingers tracing its hard ridge. She pulled her lips away, panting.

“What-” was all Ryder managed to get out before she pounced on him again, doubling her effort.

Teenage boy successfully distracted, Jane’s hand found what it had been looking for. Ryder’s phone. As gently as she could, she pulled it from within his pocket.

Something pulled her attention from her task. Ryder’s hands, one gripping her waist, and the other reaching beneath her shirt. She was shaking and hysterical, beyond the point of anxiety and bashfulness, but she knew she wasn’t ready to go that far. Not yet.

In her loneliest moments, in the dark of her room, she had pictured kissing Ryder. In her head, she imagined that it would have been romantic. Maybe a light peck over a candle-lit dinner, or a sleepy smooch in the early morning sun as they cuddled in bed. She never thought it would be like this. Not with most of her focus on manipulating him so he wouldn’t notice her stealing his phone. Not in the dirt, her tears staining his shirt. Not filled with lust instead of love.

She broke away, once ensuring that Ryder’s phone was safely in her back pocket.

Ryder seemed to be absolutely stunned. He lay there, looking up at her in amazement, speechless.

She stood, nearly falling over. If her legs had been jelly before, they were completely numb now. She could barely stay upright.

“I need to go,” she said, and ran towards the alley.

“Wait!” Ryder shouted as he clambered to his feet. “What just happened? Can I see you again?”

She only paused for a moment, looking back at him. But in the end, she said nothing as she sprinted away.