The smile that changed a life - 1. Chapter 1

Nervousness hit me as the automatic doors slid open. I’d sworn never to have to come here again. It had been so long since I last entered this building. A place that always gave me chills; the police station. Being stupid, making mistakes, and now forced to confront the unforgiving, stern faces of officialdom. Those judgemental looks, the prying eyes, seeking to learn everything about my life at home.

I was greeted at the front desk by a lady I didn't know. She was smartly dressed, very business-like, and greeted me as if she had been expecting me. “Jake?” she asked.

I nodded.

"You can go right ahead."

I walked through the door on her left towards the elevator. If it was up to me, I wouldn't be here. I would be playing soccer with my friends in the neighborhood park or I would be beating random people on the internet playing Rocket League. But my dad practically forced me to come here instead. I didn't have much choice, I knew if I didn't show up, I would be in big trouble.

Once on the second floor, a man in a nice suite approached me. "Jakey! Haven't seen you in a while. The captain is waiting for you," he pointed towards the office.

I smiled. Officer Jameson - or rather, detective Jameson now - was quite cool. When I was younger I’d hang out at the police station a lot. and Barry Jameson was the only policeman there who didn't treat me like a spoiled kid like the ones they had to deal with regularly. He always behaved as if I was a real human being and taught me not to fear my dad.

I opened the door to the office.

"You're ten minutes late."

I grunted. "Hi dad."

"Why are you late?"

I rolled my eyes. "I needed to explain to my friends why I wasn't allowed to play with them."

My dad smiled, but I knew it wasn't sincere. "And of course you told them the truth. You have to do your homework because you will fail school if you don't."

"Of course I did. And I told them my captain was gonna cuff me in order to make me."

"I'm not your captain, Jake. You know I don't like it when you call me that."

I smiled back at him in the same insincere way. "I do. And you know I don't like it when you treat me like a baby, yet here we are."

He sighed. "I'm doing this for you, you know. I want you to get good grades. I know you can do it."

"You're doing this for you, because you don't want to be the captain with a son who is failing school. Don't act all fatherly please, it doesn't suit you."

"Have it your way. Now start doing your homework. I'll check in with you in an hour."

I frowned. "You're not staying?"

"Got a meeting. But don't worry, I'll have an officer check whether you're doing your work every once in a while."

I watched my dad walk away, leaving me alone in the office of the police department's captain, which would be exciting for any other kid. I grabbed my books and started the exhausting work of doing all the assignments. Maybe he was right, I could easily get higher grades, but I never really felt like putting much effort into it. For one, I didn't want my dad to feel proud. Or rather, I didn't want to give him a reason to be proud, only to find out he ultimately is incapable of feeling that. As long as he doesn't have a reason to be proud, he can't let me down. Nah, who am I trying to fool? I don't care what he thinks.

And of course my grades were bad because school is boring. Like this stupid French homework. Why did I even have to learn all this? I was never going to visit France and in Canada I should be fine with speaking English in most parts. Are there any other countries speaking French? Guess not.

I was just writing down another list of irregular adjectives, when Barry entered the room.

"Hey kiddo, is everything alright?"

I looked up from my work. "Not really. Why do the French put their adjectives behind the nouns? What's the point in that?"

He laughed. "I have literally no clue, I always use my hands and even my feet when trying to communicate with baguettes."

I grinned. "Worst thing is, for some weird reason those… uhh, baggets… they randomly put some adjectives in front of the nouns! And now I have to learn which ones!?"

"A comforting thought, we all had to go through school. And we all survived."

I rolled my eyes. "And you ended up joining the police. Such a comforting thought!"

Barry laughed again. "It's not that bad a job, Jake. So, maybe it's a redundant question, but how are you and your dad getting along lately?"

"You're supposed to call him captain," I said, mimicking my dad's severe voice.

"I was trying to be serious," Barry replied.

"Fine… Well, he wants me to do my homework in here, locked in a police station while he is going to important meetings, saving the city." I complained. "And my friends are playing soccer right now."

"He's not wrong though. You're a smart kid and you're, what, seventeen now? You gotta work towards your future, boy."

"Almost seventeen, yeah. And it doesn't really work when you're trying to get me all responsible on the one hand, but still call me a boy on the other…" I noticed a boy being brought into the precinct. He was probably around my age and he looked really annoyed.

Barry saw me staring, so he followed my gaze. "Ah shit, what did Brian do this time?"

"Brian?" I asked.

"Yes, that guy is getting himself in trouble every month. I always try my best to keep everything he does off the record, but he's making it difficult."

I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of stuff does he do?"

The detective shrugged. "Nothing too serious, just some minor vandalism or small thefts. Enough to get our agents to apprehend him, but rarely anything to keep him. It's always a warning. It is getting annoying though."

"I bet."

"You know, kiddo, you should be happy with your family. If it wasn't for them, you could've been like Brian."

I laughed. "I doubt that."

He put on his adult face and said with a stern look that reminded me of my dad's: "I mean it. You're really privileged, try not to forget it."

"Right, now, please let me focus on my homework," I said as sarcastically as I could.

Barry shrugged and left the office. The guy was still there on the other side of the window. He was, if you ignored how dirty and furious he looked, kind of cute. The long dark brown hair fell onto his shoulders and with dark clothes, he looked a little emo. Not really too much, just enough to show he was... 'streetwise'. Probably been through stuff. I knew detective Jameson was right, I am kind of privileged. I just didn't feel that way.

This kid, Brian, suddenly looked right at me, and smiled. I quickly looked away. A few seconds later, he was gone, but that smile stuck in my head. It was kind of creepy, the kind of smile you would expect from a fortune teller who knows you're going to die soon. It was the smile of someone who knew more about the world and realised how stupid everybody else was. Or maybe he saw me doing my homework and felt pity. I wasn't sure, but I knew I wouldn't be able to get rid of that image any time soon.

It took me another twenty minutes to finish my French homework. By the time my dad was back, I finished my math homework as well. "Almost done?"

"Nice to see you too, dad."

He nodded. "So, how was it?"

"Fun!"

"You sound like your grandpa when you're talking that sarcastically."

I smiled. "Thanks. Anyway, I'm basically done now. Do you want to check it?"

"No, I trust you. You can go once you're done."

"Great, finally, I can be a teenager again!"

"Jake, I know you're angry with me, but you're almost seventeen. It's time to take responsibility for your life."

"Ugh dad, you can make me do whatever you like, because you're my dad and the captain of the local police force, but please, don't try to get me to agree with you." I closed my books hurled them into my bag. "I'm leaving."

"Bye, see you tonight. There is spaghetti in the fridge. You can warm it up."

"Thanks." I left the office and was about to turn right to the exit of the building, but then quickly glanced behind me. My dad was rummaging through some drawers, so I decided to go left instead, towards the interrogation rooms and the holding cells. Some of my dad's colleagues greeted me, but I didn't remember their names. I'm happy they remembered me though, because otherwise they would've asked why a teenager was wandering around the police station. I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing there myself.

"If that isn't the real Jake Ramsey," I heard, so I looked around.

"Officer Hawing, if I recall correctly."

He grinned. "That's alright. But please call me Logan."

I smiled back at him and greeted him with a handshake he taught me when I was eight years old. "So how are things around here?" I asked. "It seems like a lot has changed."

"I guess. When was the last time you were here?"

"Uh, not sure. Must be like five years ago or so."

"Ouch, I'm happy I still recognised you then."

I laughed. "Hard to forget a pretty face like me, right?"

The officer laughed as well. "So who brought you in this time?"

"Captain Ramsey," I couldn't help but let a contemptuous groan leave my mouth. "Good ol' capt'n Strict."

"I'm not allowed to agree with you, so I'm gonna keep my mouth shut."

I smiled. I wondered how people around here managed keep up with my dad, I could imagine he's even worse as a boss than a dad. "So, how about you give me a tour? I'm probably going to be brought in much more often from now on, so gotta know where everything is, right?"

He gave me a questioningly look. "Why's that?"

"I'm failing some courses, so now I'm practically grounded."

"Too bad, man. But on the plus side, you can see some policemen in action around here!"

I sighed. "So what about the tour?"

"Follow me." Logan guided me through the main hall, allowing me a glance into the homicide department, and towards the holding cells. He greeted everyone and even though most officers already knew me, I also saw many new curious faces. Logan seemed quite pleased to be the captain's son's tour guide. I just went with the whole flaunting thing, I had but one goal. Find the emo guy again. I'm not even sure what I expected to achieve once I found him. It's not like I could just talk to him, Logan would never allow that. I guess I just wanted to see that intriguing smile again. There is a story behind the smile, I know it.

As I expected we found the guy in the holding cells. They never really prosecuted young delinquents, but they liked to showcase their power by putting them in a cell for a few hours. They seemed to believe it would help the teenagers to do something better with their lives, but the fact they kept coming back should have convinced them they were wrong.

The moment we entered the room with the holding cells, the emo boy looked up. He didn't smile, he just looked expectantly direct into my eyes. I swallowed and looked away again.

"So this is where we lock up everyone who was stupid enough to get caught," the officer said. Brian was the only one in here, so that remark was obviously directed at him. I guess everyone in the precinct knows him.

But he didn't respond. He just stared at us, examining me with his eyes, as if he was wondering what I was doing here. Who I was.

"Thanks, Logan," I said. "Now, let's see the rest, I'm done here." I gave the emo boy my creepiest smile, but I guess it wasn't good enough, the guy didn't move at all. When we left the room, I said: "What a weird guy."

Logan laughed. "I'm not really getting through to him either. He gets caught a lot, almost as if he wants to get brought in."

"Caught doing what?"

"Oh, I'm really not allowed to tell you, sorry bro."

Bro? Pff, please…

"Well, I think I should get going now. I'll probably see you around much more from now on."

"Or you could just improve your grades?"

I laughed. "See you tomorrow, Logan. Bye." And I walked away. I made sure my dad wouldn't see me walking past his office and then I ran back home. It was getting dark, so I wouldn't be able to play sport with my friends, but I really needed to move after sitting for that long, hence the running. I love moving, if it was up to me I would be playing sport and hanging out with my friends all day long.

When I got home, only my sister was there. My mother was working late, like my dad.

"So Jake, how was your homework," Emma asked grinning.

"You think it's funny, don't you?"

"Of course! You're sixteen but you're still grounded." She laughed out loud. "Dad isn't disappointed about my grades at least."

I smiled. "He wasn’t either when I was just a kid like you are, but once you grow up, which you really should, believe me. Once you're a normal age, you're grades will drop. And dad will be even more annoyed with you, you're his favorite. Can't let him down!"

"You're stupid," Emma whined. "And I'm gonna tell dad you said that."

"Try. That was a long sentence, I'm sure you already forgot half of it. Now leave me alone and go manage your social media feed or do whatever it is thirteen year old babies do nowadays." I walked upstairs before she could say something. God, I hate her sometimes. She's forcing me to say mean things even though I know I'm not like that. She's like dad, provoking me all the time. Ugh, my family sucks.

I threw myself onto my bed and I pushed my head into the pillow. I was so tired and I didn't even know why. I spent five minutes breathing the air through my pillow before I turned around to face the ceiling. That guy today, why was he smiling? And why was it bothering me so much? Let him smile, I don't care. Why should I care?

Okay, as I admitted before, he was a little cute. Not breathtakingly or whatever, nothing to crush over in any way, but he had this mysteriousness all around him. This "I know better" attitude. I wonder what he gets caught for so regularly. Probably drinking alcohol or smoking weed.

There was a knock on the door. "Sup?" I grumbled.

"Jake, dad texted you were gonna get us some food. I'm hungry. Can I come in?"

I sighed. "Of course you can."

She opened the door, with a sly smile across her face. "I always ask, because you know, don't want to… you know… it's like a trauma."

"You're so funny," I said, trying to hide my embarrassment. A year ago or so Emma walked into my room without knocking, catching me right in the teenage act. I was so ashamed I didn't talk to her or my parents for over a week. From then on she always knocked, but still, I couldn't help but feel grossed out by it every once in awhile. I could only imagine her memory of it.

"So, what about food?"

"It's spaghetti. In the fridge. You have to put it in the microwave, press the button, wait and eat. I'm sure you can figure it out."

"What about you?"

I sat up and turned on the television. "I'm not hungry."

Without saying a word, Emma walked away. She left the door wide open. I watched a dull comedy show and completely forgot the time. When I heard the front door click, I knew I had forgotten to eat dinner. It was eight thirty already.

"Hey Emma," I heard my mom say. "Is Jake home?"

"Upstairs."

"Jake?" Mom called out as she started climbing the stairs. She appeared in the doorway. "Hey."

I smiled at her. She was still wearing her nurse outfit, which for some reason always made me feel safe. It reminded me of my youth, when everything was relaxed. Back then Emma was too young to really be annoying, mom and dad still were happy together and I wasn't worrying about life yet. Everything was cool then. "Hey."

"How was your day?"

"Boring."

"I thought so. How about you come downstairs for some tea? So you can tell me everything about your adventures today."

"Right, I should eat dinner then as well."

She frowned. "Didn't dad tell you to eat the spaghetti from the fridge?"

"He did, but I wasn't hungry."

"Are you okay, Jake?"

I smiled again. "It's alright. I was just tired. Thanks for worrying." I got out of bed.

"I'm your mom, it's my job to worry."

I did not reply, and followed her downstairs. Emma only looked at me for a second, but didn't say anything. We were all very quiet as mom made tea, I warmed up my dinner and my sister watched the great British Bake Off. When I was halfway through my dinner, my father came home. He kissed mom, said hey to us and sat down next to Emma on the sofa.

"Why are you still eating?"

"I wasn't hungry before," I replied.

"You know it's unhealthy to eat irregularly."

I sighed. "Let's just watch TV, alright? You wanted me to take responsibility for my own life, so here I am."

"Jake called me a baby today," Emma said suddenly. "He said my grades will drop when I'm older and that you would be angry with me."

My mom looked at me. "Did you?"

"Yeah," I said while chewing. I didn't even consider defending myself, it wouldn't work.

"Why?" dad asked.

"Without any apparent reason of course. Emma didn't provoke it at all."

"I didn't!" she shouted "oh…" she added, probably still trying to process what I just said. I just smiled. She can be so stupid.

"Don't bully your sister, Jake," my mom said.

I grunted. It's like this every day. I'm so tired of it. Why can't they just leave me alone? Why do they have to meddle with everything in my life? I didn't say anything anymore, hoping they would let it slide. They did.

We sat on the sofa for a while, watching the news in complete silence, like any ordinary family. I'm sure we were all thinking about how life could be away from each other. Never mind, I don't know what they were thinking about, but I'm sure I'm thinking about that! I can't wait until I'm old enough to leave home. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate my parents, but they never stop getting on my nerves. I need a day off!

"Emma, can you go to my study and grab my suitcase?" dad suddenly asked.

"Why me? Jake never has to help."

Here we go again, I thought. We finally had peace. Even if only for twenty minutes.

"Because dad asked you," mom said.

Before my sister could even reply, my dad intervened. "Emma is right. Jake, can you grab my suitcase?"

I sighed and for a split second considered my options. I could either stand up for myself by saying he originally asked Emma and as a result should want her to do it. A parent has to be consistent, right? But, if I did, I knew there would be another fight. I probably should just yield once again, losing like I'm used to. It would offer me so much more peace. If only my parents realised how many times I did things just for the greater good. I sighed again and got up.

Once I entered my dad's study, I noticed his computer was still on. Normally he shuts it down when he's done, as there are sensitive files on there. This time he forgot. I glanced at the screen, there was a police database open. I noticed I was developing a hardon, which sounds creepy, but it's just my body responding to my mind thinking about doing things I'm not allowed to do. I know, it's weird, but for some reason I always found doing sneaky things which I'm not allowed to really exciting. I'm a teenager, remember? The body can pull weird tricks on you.

I took hold of the mouse and sat down behind his desk. I knew I had to be quick, my dad would expect me back any time. I also knew I would get into huge troubles if he ever caught me scrolling through his files, he's normally very careful about that stuff. But on the other hand, he was careless enough to leave everything unlocked, so he is kind of asking for it, isn't he? My mind wandered back to earlier today, when the emo guy was smiling at me. My unconsciousness took over. What was his name again? Brian!

I pressed on the search bar and typed in "Brian". A whole list of results showed up. Several Brians, a lot of them with different family names. The list also showed the first couple of words of the description of the offence. I took out my phone, made a picture and deleted my search. I tried to look whether there was a search history on the application, but I knew I didn't have much time left. I didn't see anything, so even though I wasn't completely sure, I took the risk. I made certain I left everything as I found it, grabbed the suitcase and went back to the living room.

"There you go," I said and pushed the suitcase into his arms with quite some force to illustrate my dissatisfaction. "Now I'd like to retreat towards my room, if that's okay with you."

"You don't want to see the end of the show?" my mom asked with a voice that implied disappointment, but I suspect it was feigned. I didn't think she would care whether I was with them or not.

"Nah, I'm fine. See you guys tomorrow." I walked out. Once I had my door closed, taking every precaution to make sure my dad wouldn't walk in, I opened my phone again. I took a long look at the picture, zooming in on every name and the descriptions next to them. There was stuff about a Brian who stole a car, there was a Brian that complained about his neighbour and there was one that was apparently looking for his missing father. I couldn't be sure of course, but I didn't feel like those were my Brian. Then there was one that, according to the file, "vituperated" some police officers who were on their way to the fire department. I had to look up the word; it meant insulting. That could be the right Brian. At least if fitted the description Logan gave of a guy always trying to be brought in intentionally.

Brian Lenovich was his name. I opened an internet tab on my phone and typed it in. Of course I got his name wrong, so it took me another try looking at the picture in order to get it right. What a stupid name.

No social media pages appeared, but that wasn't necessarily proof it wasn't the Brian. I know it's quite weird to feel like you can make predictions about someone's personality after observing just one creepy smile, but it wouldn't surprise me if the emo guy didn't care much for social media. I opened google pictures. There he was! The first hit. Gotcha!

I opened the picture. He didn't have long hair on here, he was much younger and he smiled. It wasn't a creepy smile, it was sincere. He looked happy. There was an older guy next to him who looked just like him, but with short spiky hair and a soft beard. His brother, of course. Brian Lenovich looked much more civilised in this picture than he did at the precinct earlier today, and if I wasn't a little obsessed with him before, this absolutely piqued my interest. Who was this guy? What was his story?

The page on which this picture was originally posted was a facebook profile. I opened it. I always wondered if people could see whether you checked their facebook page. I know I can't, but I once heard you can kind of determine it, because people who regularly check your profile automatically become recommended friends. I never fact-checked it, but I did know that I didn't want people to know I was stalking their profiles. Which, admittedly, I did sometimes. What can I say, I'm a gay boy who isn't out yet, with a lot of cute guys at his school. Guys I happen to know the names of and guys who happen to all own social media pages with a great deal of cute or even sexy pictures on them.

The page was about someone named "Ryan Lenovich". The pictures said "On holiday in Columbia with little bro @BrianLeno". I told you it was his brother. Ryan Lenovich the page says, Chief Accountant Griffin Bradley Accountancy. Aha, that sounded impressive. I had actually no idea what it meant, but it did mean he had a job. And it also gave me some background information about Brian, and to be honest, I was aching for more facts about the guy. He surely got to me with that smile of his. I wanted to know why he was trying to get caught by the police all the time. I wanted to know what happened to him between the picture on the internet and now. I was almost creeped out by the obsession that was developing, but I told myself I was doing this just to help him get his life back on track. Though maybe it was him who could help me?

I noticed it was getting late. I closed my phone and connected it to the charger. Tomorrow I had to go to school again, followed by a long evening at the police station once again. It was going to be a long and boring day and I couldn't wait for the weekend. The thought of Brian maybe getting arrested tomorrow did manage to make me believe it could be a little less dull. I fell asleep.