Dancergirl by Carol M. Tanzman Page B

can’t.”
    It’s a little after ten, late for a school night, but that’s never mattered to either Jacy or his mom.
    “Are you grounded?” I ask.
    He shrugs.
    “What on earth did you do, Strode?”
    As if in answer, Jacy’s computer beeps. Automatically, I glance at the screen. A tiny picture of a cute girl and a screen name— quiksilver —pops up. I’m baaaack.
    “Who’s quiksilver? ”
    “Nobody you know,” Jacy snaps.
    Not “ quiksilver ’s a girl from school.” Or “my long-lost cousin in Vermont.”
    It doesn’t take very long to figure it out. What Jacy didn’t say, but probably should have.
    Quiksilver’ s my girlfriend. That’s why I can’t go to Ryan’s apartment. I’d rather stay here and chat with her.

21
chapter twenty-one
    On my way to school the next morning, I glance at the deli window. Yes! Mr. Ryan is in the corner booth, eating break fast by himself. His laptop leans against the napkin dispenser.
    He glances up as I approach his table. Politely, he closes his computer. “Don’t tell me the guy came back! Because I’m watching the street.”
    I slide into the opposite seat. “That’s not exactly why I’m here. My friend Clarissa discovered a list of sex offenders on line. There are thirty-seven in this zip code alone.”
    Ryan sighs. “Would you like something to eat?”
    “No, thanks. I’ve got school.”
    He nods. “I’ll try to make this quick, then. I was hoping you wouldn’t see the list, Alicia, for this very reason.”
    “Because I’d freak? You got that right.”
    “What you have to understand is that the list, for the most part, is useless.” He holds up a hand so I won’t interrupt. “Half the people don’t really belong there. And the other half are too old to harm anyone.”
    I slip my messenger bag off my shoulder. “I don’t understand.”
    “Once you’re a convicted sex offender, you’re on the list. So, let’s say you’re nineteen and having sex with your seventeen-year-old girlfriend. Then you break up with her, and she presses charges to get back at you. Happens more than you think. So you cop a lesser plea than statutory rape. You never had any intention of hurting anyone, past or future, but still, you’re put on the list. Or you got out of jail thirty years ago, and excuse my French, couldn’t get it up if your life depended on it. Still, the law is the law. Once on the list, always on the list.”
    “Most of those people didn’t look that old.”
    Ryan gives me a patient look. “Come on, Alicia. It’s not like they update their photos on a regular basis, right? The site uses old booking pictures. I’d venture to guess that very few people actually look like their photos no matter when the picture was taken.”
    “Then what’s the point?”
    “Mostly, it’s a bone thrown to the public to make them feel safe. I’m sorry, but you want me to tell you the truth, right?”
    “Yes.”
    His eyes flicker toward the window. It’s morning rush, and the sidewalk is a beehive of activity. “Have you seen anything else suspicious? Someone following you? A second camera?”
    I shake my head.
    “See, that’s good. And now that we’re being honest…”
    Immediately, my nerves tingle. “Yes?”
    Mr. Ryan takes a sip of coffee. “I didn’t want to mention this that afternoon you stopped by with Jacy, but most times a stalker turns out to be an ex-husband or old boyfriend. Obviously, ex-husband doesn’t relate to you but…”
    “You think Jacy’s doing this?” My voice comes out an octave higher than usual.
    Mr. Ryan’s eyes do not leave my face. “What do you think?”
    “Not a chance! Besides, he’s not an old boyfriend.”
    “You’re together a lot.”
    “We’re friends. That’s all. Just friends.” I grab my messenger bag. “Sorry to bother you during your breakfast. I have to get to school now.”
    I hustle outside, shocked at the thought that Mr. Ryan considered Jacy a suspect. Although, after I calm down a bit,