Chapter Ten – Reese
Wren Lyons. I have a name for the face now, a name for the face of the girl who wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and walked into me last week.
I tried making a joke about myself, but I could tell she wanted to be anywhere but there, so instead of introducing myself as Reese Scott, I told her I had a meeting to get to and let her leave.
Now I can look forward to seeing her three times a week.
A front-row student. The ones who sit in the front row are always the ones who want to pay the most attention, the ones who want to learn, whereas the ones who sit in the back tend to fiddle on their phones and play on their tablets and laptops the entire time.
She was the first to turn in her test, having flipped through it almost too quickly—though she was followed by the student sitting next to her.
Unlike her, though, he seemed to randomly circle answers just so he could catch up with her, and once he hands in his test, I know his name, too: Logan Crew.
I know Logan’s type. Pushy, overbearing, the kind of guy who doesn’t take no for an answer. It seems a bit early in the year for someone like him to be locked into someone like Wren. Granted, I don’t know much about the girl, but she seems like the opposite of Logan in nearly every way.
As I wait for other students to turn their tests in, I go through Wren’s. I know the answers off the top of my head; I don’t need the answer key. I go through the first page, then the second, and the third. Page after page.
Every single question… she answered correctly.
I don’t know that I’ve ever encountered that before.
Either she knows all the material already, or she’s a really good guesser—but I have the feeling it’s the former and not the latter.
She doesn’t strike me as someone who likes to guess on anything.
No, she likes knowing the answers. She likes being prepared.
Now that is something we both have in common. I might seem like I’m forgetful or constantly late, but it’s nothing more than a ploy. You see, when you constantly do something, people assume it’s simply a part of your personality.
My personality? I never run late. I’m not forgetful. I’m a planner to my core. You have to be, when you like doing what I do.
And, no, I don’t mean teaching. Teaching is what keeps me busy. The other thing… well, it’s been a damn long time since I let that other thing take over. My other hobby. My other interest.
It’s sort of like an urban legend in the family: anyone with Scott blood tends to be off, one way or another. Some are unstable. Others are cold and emotionless. A few take possession and obsession to the extreme.
I used to think it was just our side of the family, anyone related to my father, but my older brother had a meeting with our father’s nephew, on the other side of the country.
The west coast Scotts have their own family business, and the one in charge reached out to try to mend bridges.
His father and ours had a bit of a falling out decades ago.
A family like mine… lines are blurred more often than not. Right, wrong; it’s all dependent on who you ask. Morality and legality only hold us back from our true potential. You don’t know what someone’s capable of until you have them cornered, and then their true colors come out.
I like seeing those true colors, and I can’t help but wonder what Wren’s are. When she’s backed into a corner, out of options, what would she do? Would she fight, or would she give up and let the inevitability of death take her?
Another student hands in their test, pulling me back to reality.
Right. Best not let my mind get carried away, not while I’m here, anyway.
I push the girl from my thoughts, and I manage to keep it all contained until later that night, when I’m back at home.
A house fifteen minutes from campus, updated to my liking, with everything I could possibly need, especially in that basement of mine.
It’s been a long time since I let a mouse through that maze.
It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to.
As night falls, I can’t get the girl out of my mind. There was something in her eyes, a deep-seated sadness, that made me curious. That, and the fact that she got every single answer right on a test before I even taught any of the subjects.
Wren Lyons.
I have to use an incognito browser, but it isn’t the first time I’ve done a deep-dive online to find out more.
My older brother has a thing for dogs, my younger brother likes to garden, and I like tests, but in order to create individualized tests, you need to know your subjects.
You need to know the mice before you let them out into the maze.
Just like most people these days, it’s easy to find out practically everything about her.
A sophomore at MSU, she recently became single.
Prior to this summer, most of her uploaded pictures included a guy named Mike North—I’ll look him up after her.
During the summer, she worked at a local used bookstore near her hometown.
A girl who likes books. You can’t get better than that.
Going back even further, I find she was in the top five of her graduating high school class, AKA an overachiever. Now that makes me wonder if she likes the routine, how she’d react to being thrown into a different scenario, one she couldn’t possibly prepare herself for.
It looks as though she’d been with that Mike for years. No wonder her eyes had seemed so sad. Her first and only breakup, from what I can tell.
Once I’ve exhausted her, I search for Mike North.
His profiles aren’t as telling as Wren’s; he hasn’t uploaded anything since the breakup.
Hmm. I do see that he also goes to MSU—interesting.
Usually high school couples break up when they go to different colleges, not the same, not when they’ve already made it four years together.
That leaves me to wonder if something happened between them. Did someone make a mistake? I can’t imagine Wren would. A high-strung person like Wren would never do something she regrets, and that makes me think whatever happened happened because of the ex.
I’ll have to look them both up once I’m in my office on campus. I’ll be able to see their schedules, where they live; all that good stuff. Wren is a possible mouse, but so is this Mike.
There is a third possibility, and I search him next: Logan Crew.
Logan doesn’t have as much as I anticipated.
Pictures of him partying, smoking, drinking, letting loose; seeing these pictures, you wouldn’t think he’s a college student.
You’d think he’s a celebrity or something.
I know as well as anybody that what you see online—or in person, really—could be nothing more than a projection of what they want the world to see.
Fake. Social media is rife with fakes and bots now; it’s impossible to truly know someone just at a glance anymore.
Which is why I prefer my mazes.
My father is a collector. My younger brother is a gardener. My older brother is a trainer. And me? I’m a hunter… and it’s been too damn long since the thrill of the hunt pumped through my veins. I think it’s time to create a new maze.
The only question is: who will be my little mouse?