Adrian spent his second week at Riverside High working on building connections with other students. His FBI training had taught him that the best way to gather information was to blend in and make people trust him.
During lunch on Monday, he sat with a group of students who seemed to know everyone's business. There was Jessica, a cheerleader who loved gossip, Mike, a football player who threw parties every weekend, and Sarah, who was quiet but seemed to notice everything.
"So Adrian, where did you transfer from again?" Jessica asked, picking at her salad.
"Portland," Adrian replied, keeping his story simple. "My parents got relocated for work."
"That sucks," Mike said. "But hey, at least you're here for senior year. That's when all the fun stuff happens."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "What kind of fun stuff?"
"Parties, obviously," Jessica giggled. "Mike throws the best ones. You should come to the one this Friday."
"I don't know," Adrian said, pretending to be shy. "I'm still trying to get used to this place."
"Come on, man," Mike insisted. "It'll be a good way to meet people. Plus, everyone will be there. Even some of the cool teachers sometimes show up."
That caught Adrian's attention. "Teachers go to student parties?"
Sarah finally spoke up. "Not officially, but some of the younger ones hang around. Mr. Rodriguez from Spanish, Ms. Chen from art. They're pretty cool about things."
Adrian filed that information away. Teachers who attended student parties might be more involved in student activities than they should be.
Throughout the week, Adrian made an effort to talk to different groups. He joined the study group for AP History, sat with the theater kids during lunch one day, and even helped some students with their math homework. Each conversation gave him pieces of information about the school's social structure.
By Thursday, Adrian had started to notice patterns. Certain students always had money for expensive lunches and new clothes, even though their families weren't particularly wealthy. Some kids would disappear during lunch and come back looking relaxed or spacey. There were whispered conversations that stopped when teachers walked by.
But the most distracting thing was how often he caught Blake Morrison staring at him.
It started during calculus class. Adrian would be working on a problem, and he'd feel eyes on him. When he looked up, Blake would quickly look away and pretend to be checking other students' work. It happened so often that Adrian started keeping track.
Tuesday: Blake stared at him seven times during class.
Wednesday: Nine times.
Thursday: Blake wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.
During Friday's class, Adrian decided to have some fun with the situation. He deliberately dropped his pencil and bent down to pick it up. When he sat back up, he caught Blake staring directly at him.
"Mr. Morrison," Adrian said innocently, raising his hand. "I think there's something wrong with this equation."
Blake walked over, clearly flustered. "What seems to be the problem, Mr. Matthews?"
Adrian pointed to his paper. "This part here. It doesn't look right to me."
Blake leaned over to examine the work, and Adrian caught a whiff of his cologne. It was the same scent from two years ago at the courthouse, though Adrian doubted Blake realized he remembered.
"The equation is correct," Blake said quietly. "You just need to continue to the next step."
"Oh," Adrian said, looking up at Blake with wide, innocent eyes. "Thanks for checking. I was worried I was doing something wrong."
Blake's ears turned slightly red. "No problem. Let me know if you need more help."
As Blake walked away, Adrian heard Jessica whisper to her friend, "Is it just me, or does Mr. Morrison seem really interested in the new guy?"
Adrian had to bite back a smile.
After class, Adrian lingered as other students filed out. Blake was organizing papers at his desk, clearly trying to look busy.
"Mr. Morrison?" Adrian approached the desk. "Can I ask you something?"
Blake looked up, and Adrian noticed he seemed nervous. "Of course."
"Why do you keep staring at me during class?"
Blake's face went completely red. "I wasn't... I mean, I don't..."
"It's okay," Adrian said with a grin. "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't doing anything wrong. Like, is my hair weird or something? Do I have food on my face?"
"Your hair is fine," Blake said quickly, then looked mortified that he'd answered.
"Good to know," Adrian said. "Because Jessica thinks you have a crush on me, and I told her that was crazy because you're way too professional for that."
Blake looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. "I assure you, Mr. Matthews, my interest in your academic progress is purely professional."
"Academic progress?" Adrian tilted his head. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"I don't know what you mean."
Adrian leaned against the desk casually. "I mean, you watch me more than you watch any other student. Yesterday you stared at me for like thirty seconds straight while I was just sitting there. Mike timed it."
"Mike was timing..." Blake rubbed his forehead. "This conversation is highly inappropriate."
"Why? I'm just asking an innocent question." Adrian's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Unless there's something not-so-innocent about why you keep looking at me?"
Blake stood up abruptly. "I think you should go to your next class, Mr. Matthews."
"Sure thing, Mr. Morrison." Adrian shouldered his backpack. "But just so you know, if you want to talk to me about something, you can just ask. I don't bite."
As Adrian headed for the door, he turned back with a smile. "Also, you might want to be more subtle about the staring thing. People are starting to notice."
Blake sat down heavily in his chair after Adrian left, wondering how an eighteen-year-old ( not really ) had just completely dismantled his composure in under five minutes.
Meanwhile, Adrian walked down the hallway with a satisfied grin. He was making good progress on his mission, building trust with potential sources of information. And messing with Blake Morrison was turning out to be an unexpected bonus.
He had a party to attend tonight, where he hoped to learn more about who was selling drugs at Riverside High. But first, he was going to enjoy the memory of making his supposedly-professional husband turn bright red in his own classroom.