“Now, Sam, you know that Lois’s heart is always in the right place,” Mom said. “She just has trouble making others see that sometimes.”
“Sorry, Mom,” I said. “I have to leave the table.”
She looked at me, and I managed a weak smile for her. I could read Dad well enough to know he was preparing to give me a lecture. Before he could start, I pushed my chair back from the table. “I’m not hungry. So I’m going upstairs to work. And I’m not leaving the Scoop.”
“Go to your room,” Dad said.
“I just said that I was.” I tossed my napkin onto my plate, shaking my head when Mom started to protest.
Blood rushed to my face, my ears pounding with it as I raced upstairs. I automatically locked the door and prepared to log in to my computer, still so mad I could barely talk. Or type.
But I managed the passwords.
SmallvilleGuy: Where have you been? I’ve been dying here, waiting for hours. I was afraid I missed you when I had to step out for chores. The story was great. How did your day go? What did Butler do? The Warheads?
SmallvilleGuy: I want to know everything.
I took a few calming breaths, which did nothing to make me feel calmer. I almost felt sorry for him. All the things that happened to me today . . . I didn’t know where to start.
SkepticGirl1: I have detention.
SkepticGirl1: My dad is bringing up military school again.
SkepticGirl1: I just stormed away from the dinner table.
SkepticGirl1: The Scoop is going bye-bye if I can’t fix everything.
SmallvilleGuy was typing. My breathing steadied. A little.
SmallvilleGuy: Wait—why is all this happening? The story was good.
SmallvilleGuy: Great. It was great.
SkepticGirl1: Oh, right.
I didn’t want to even type the words, they were so inexplicable. So mystifying to me. But I had to tell him the rest so he’d be able to understand.
SkepticGirl1: Anavi claims everything is a lie, and requested a retraction from Perry. I only have a few days to get her to take it back.
SkepticGirl1: She won’t even talk to me.
For a long moment there was nothing—not even an alert that he’d started to type a response. That he had to take a pause almost made me feel better. He must have been as shocked as I was.
Finally, words came.
SmallvilleGuy: Lois, I’m so sorry.
SmallvilleGuy: But you know what this means? You’re right about everything. And you can’t stop now. We’ll dig deeper. I already found out that ARLabs donated bunch of computers to the school this year. And that the main guy behind the real-sim tech had some interesting ideas back in the day about group play and neural pathways that I’m looking into.
The story—the real one—he was right. We had to keep chasing it.
SkepticGirl1: Really? I’ll do some looking too.
I heard steps on the stairs.
SkepticGirl1: Someone’s coming. Catch you tomorrow?
SkepticGirl1: And thank you. Talking to you helped, more than you know.
SmallvilleGuy: Wait, don’t forget!
But I had to shut the laptop then. It was the first time I’d ever closed one of our regular nightly chats without asking who he was, in one way or another. I wondered if that was what he’d wanted to remind me of, unable to believe I would disappear again without it.
I lunged over to the door and unlocked it, just as the knock sounded. I opened it ready for round two of my battle with Dad.
Lucy stood outside, holding a plate of lasagna.
“You really did it this time,” she said. “But you seem to be off the hook for now. Mom sent this up. Dad let her.”
“Thanks, Deathmetal,” I said, accepting the plate. My stomach rumbled its approval. I hadn’t been hungry before, but I was starving now. “You’re a good sister.”
“I hope they don’t send you away,” Lucy said. Then, “Night,” as if she’d said too much.
We were so alike, the two of us, battered by too many moves and too much change. I ducked inside to set down the plate on my desk, holding a finger up so she wouldn’t leave. I crossed back to the door and folded her into a hug. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
“Okay,” she said, and extricated herself from my grip, faking cool. “Better go check in with my unis.”
I waited until Lucy went into her room, then shut my door on the rest of the world again. Talking to SmallvilleGuy had helped, but I needed to think. To try to figure out how victory had turned so quickly into such resounding defeat. So I didn’t go back to chat when I reopened my computer while wolfing down the lukewarm lasagna. I went to Strange Skies instead, clicking through new threads.