“Hey, tell me, you’re a detective, aren’t you?”
I froze at her question. “Why do you keep asking that? As I said, I’m not.”
“But you can be! I know you can!” she said, making me furrow my brows.
“Of course you know. You can deduce me, right?” I answered sarcastically before continuing my meal.
She got startled when thunder suddenly roared across the sky. I, on the other hand, merely paused from eating. A strong wind blew through the area, followed immediately by another flash of lightning and loud thunder. The girls around us squealed and hurriedly ran out of the canteen.
“I told you it was going to rain today,” she said proudly, smiling as if she were some kind of fortune teller now.
I simply shook my head and headed back to our classroom.
I hadn’t even fully entered the room when I heard shouting—not from fear of thunder, but from anger over something missing.
“What? Where is it? It was inside my bag! Why is it gone?”
Wait, I remembered her. She was the one who always greeted me.
“Hey, Marco! Where did you put my cellphone? Why did you take it from my bag?”
“Hey yourself, Lyca! Why are you accusing me? What would I do with your phone? My phone’s an iPhone while yours is just a Samsung!”
Little by little, our classmates began crowding around them.
“Just give it back already, Marco! I’m not joking around here! You’re the king of pranks and bullying in this class anyway! Give it back! I just bought it last night and you already stole it! Hurry up before I report you to Guidance!”
“Report me for what? I didn’t take your phone!”
“Well, you’re the only one sitting beside me! Who else am I supposed to suspect? Just give it back already!”
I noticed some students already taking pictures and videos of the scene.
Tsk. Tsk.
Maybe the real thief’s motive was to destroy Lyca’s reputation. Make her angry, record her causing a scene, then spread the video across campus to ruin her image. If that really was the motive, then who was behind the theft?
“What do you think about this one?”
I heard my seatmate’s voice again. She really just talked whenever she wanted without making sure the person she was speaking to even knew she was talking to them.
“Which one of them do you think is telling the truth? Which one is hiding the truth? Want to find out?”
I grinned hearing those questions from her. She really was a mystery enthusiast—the type who always wanted to know the reality behind things.
“Guys, come on! Who really took Angelica’s phone? If it wasn’t Marco, then whoever took it should just admit it already and return it! Prof. Tobias might catch us here any minute! I’m doomed again!” a girl with short hair, bangs, and thick-lensed glasses shouted loudly.
“She’s Betty Sandoval, our class president,” my seatmate introduced. “You can’t deny she’s smart—well, she is our president… I mean our president. But she has a bit of an attitude problem sometimes. Kinda bratty despite looking like a nerd. Let’s just say: brainy nerd with a poor attitude.”
“No, Betty! I know Marco took it! He’s the only one sitting beside me! He’s the only possible suspect!” Lyca insisted.
“What do you mean me? Do you even have proof? Did you see me take your phone from your bag?”
“Yes, I do! Your face! Your face alone is proof! You look like a thief!”
“Hey, you’re crossing the line now!”
Marco was about to punch Lyca when someone stopped him.
“Don’t, man! She’s a girl. Don’t hit her,” the guy said.
“He’s Paul Rosales, our section escort. I don’t know anything bad about him. He’s quiet, hardworking, and whenever there’s trouble in the classroom, he’s usually one of the people who stop it. The weird thing about him though is his mismatched socks.”
I looked at the person she pointed at. She was right. He was wearing two different socks—one white and one black.
“Just give it back already! If it wasn’t you, Marco, then who was it? Seriously, doesn’t that person have anything better to do with their life? Or maybe they don’t have a cellphone of their own? They should’ve just asked me for money! What a cheap move!”
“So? Are we just going to stay quiet here? Aren’t we going to solve this case?” my seatmate asked me again.
I glanced at her before walking straight to the back and sitting down.
“What a waste. I even put effort into describing them,” she complained.
I ignored her and simply continued thinking.
“Fine then! If you don’t want to solve this case, then I will! Lyca! I already know who stole your phone!”
I looked at her, and so did our classmates.
Really?
That was her way of entering the show?
“What? Nica? You know who took it?”
“Yes. But before I reveal who it is, let me explain how and what time they stole your phone.”
“Really, Nica? You better make sure you know what you’re saying. False accusations are a legal offense, remember that,” Betty warned my seatmate.
“Hiding the truth is an offense too, Betty. We were dismissed for lunch break at exactly twelve noon. One by one, we all started leaving for the canteen while one of you—or should I say, the thief—deliberately stayed behind,” she began.
“I was in the canteen during lunch with my friends,” Marco defended himself.
“Around 12:05 to 12:10, the culprit most likely took Lyca’s phone from her bag. Afterward, they went to the canteen, joined their friends, and pretended they had just come from the restroom.”
“So you’re saying Marco really took the phone?” Paul asked.
“No. Because any of you could’ve done that.”
“One of us? Are you sure you’re including us? I’m telling you, don’t accuse people recklessly.”
I stood up after finally thinking of a way to identify the real thief.
“Lyca, tell me again—why do you think Marco took your phone?” I suddenly asked, catching her off guard.
“Because aside from the window, Marco’s the only one sitting beside me on my right,” she answered softly, though her accusing tone remained.
I laughed.
“Do you consider Paul and Betty your seatmates too? Aside from Marco, their seats are next to yours as well.”
Everyone fell silent and looked toward the two people I mentioned. I needed to shift the blame around so the real culprit wouldn’t feel too pressured.
Still, it really was possible that Marco stole Lyca’s phone. Lyca said she had only bought the phone last night—so how did Marco already know it was a Samsung? Phone usage during classes was prohibited, and they were only allowed during lunch break. Was there another reason Marco immediately recognized Lyca’s newly bought phone?
“That’s right. Didn’t any of you realize you were all sitting beside her too? Paul Rosales sits in front of Angelica Ruiz, Marco Sanceda sits to her right, and Betty Sandoval sits behind her. The four of you are her seatmates,” my seatmate added.
“If that’s the case, then which one of us? Which one of us three really stole Lyca’s phone?”
“Yeah, who among us even has a motive?”
I took out my phone.
This was the only way to figure out who stole Lyca’s cellphone.
“Can you give me your number?” I asked Lyca while handing her my phone.
The culprit was probably holding it—or maybe hiding it in a pocket. Once I dialed the number, the phone would ring. Or if it didn’t, I’d notice someone acting suspiciously.
Everyone was startled when a ringtone suddenly echoed from someone’s pocket, followed by the loud laughter of a famous comedian.
The person pulled out the phone and showed it to me.
“I got your phone number, Aedrian!”
Holy cheese!
Why didn’t I think of that?
But wait…
Why was it different?