It didn’t make sense. And it wasn’t like her.
I pulled out the chair next to Anavi, who kept staring straight ahead. Sitting down, I put my hand on her arm. “Everything all right?”
“You can’t sit here,” Anavi said, flat, toneless. “Go away.”
“Anavi, talk to me. Are they still bothering you?”
Anavi threw off my hand, kicking back her chair as she stood. “You are the one bothering me.”
She stalked away while I watched her go, gaping.
Devin and Maddy walked the rest of the way over. “Told you,” Maddy said, without a hint of smug.
As Anavi went through the cafeteria, people were pointing and noticing her. Maybe that was all it was. Maybe she hadn’t counted on so much attention.
But another thing I hated was trying to convince myself of something that I felt in my gut was a lie.
CHAPTER 14
I entered the Morgue alone after school, feeling like I’d swallowed the kind of giant boulder that might be used to landscape Devin’s castle. A giant boulder that remained stuck in my throat. I wasn’t in trouble, but I was troubled.
The rest of the day had been more of the same.
I hadn’t been able to return the smiles and high fives, and even the continued posting of testimonials and supportive comments on the Scoop site didn’t break the spell of the worry that weighed me down. I was proud of the story, and I stood behind it, but the point had been to help Anavi out of the dark place she’d been in. Not to isolate her further.
I wished Anavi would talk to me.
The others were already at the office, chattering away and gathered around one of Devin’s giant monitors.
The Scoop site was up on it and visible from all the way across the room.
“Listen to this one,” Devin said, and read aloud from the screen. “‘I could never tell anyone, until I read this story. I thought I was the only one who stopped playing because I was too weak to fight back.’”
He paused before adding his own commentary. “Dude, if I recruited this guy and all the others who mention gaming, I could have the biggest kingdom in Worlds.”
Maddy laughed. “You hide it well, but you are such a nerd.”
“I am not,” Devin countered. But as he spotted me, he amended, “I’m the coolest nerd you know.”
“That’s probably true,” James said, then turned his head in the same direction as Devin, catching sight of me too. “There she is, the girl of the hour.” He raised his voice and called, “Perry, Lois is finally here.”
I hadn’t even noticed that there was a door back in the most dismal corner of the office. But today it was propped open by an old cardboard box and darkened by the shadows around it like the entrance to some missile-toting dragon’s cave. Why did everything in real life suddenly feel as dangerous as in the war game?
“Get in here, Lane!” The shout rang loud and clear from the gaping black maw. Er, door.
The metaphorical boulder lodged in my throat, I didn’t say anything to the others. I answered the boss by walking past them, ready to get reamed.
Perry was a pro. He didn’t read our stories before we filed and posted them, but he did select which ones got linked to on the Daily Planet website. He must have believed the facts were good when he gave the go-ahead for my story to be featured. He might not have had Anavi blow him off, but I suspected that by now he’d sense something was wrong, that the entire story wasn’t known yet.
Or not. When I reached the threshold of the dungeon-like office where Perry waited for me, he was grinning—hardly scary dragon-esque or even intimidating editor-esque. His feet were propped up on a desk as ancient as the ones out front, contrasted by the lightweight laptop open on top of it.
“The newsroom gets noisy,” he said. “Sometimes I come down here, where I can hear myself think. When I’m figuring out a tough story, the quiet helps.”
Like we were equals. Like we were going to swap techniques or something.
Me? Oh, I use my friend from a fringe message board to help me out when I’m up against a tough problem . . . like mind control. Do you believe in mind control? Wait, silly me, I mean psychological coercion. Or it could be a hive mind thing, hard to say.
“Sit.” Perry’s well-shined shoes swung down to the floor, and he waved me forward.
“I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop,” I said, relieved to discover my throat was functional.
I took a seat in an oversized wooden chair in front of the desk. The back and arms were coated with dust, but I wasn’t about to complain.