The next day, school seemed endless. I couldn't shake my suspicion that something was buried on Loggerhead. I tried to concentrate, but time and again my thoughts circled back to the ghastly possibility.
Before catching the morning ferry, I'd checked on Coop. He still looked dreadful, the proverbial "sick as a dog." I told myself to stay positive. But I had to admit. Things didn't look good.
We were down to our last IV bag and had no hope of obtaining others. Antibiotics were also running low. Everyone had tried, but the puppy continued to vomit what little he ate. Coop needed to turn a corner, and soon, before he weakened beyond his ability to recover.
Mind burning with worry, I was thoroughly distracted during biology. Jason and Hannah were quiet, but I could tell their patience had worn thin. I tried to shake the negative vibes. We had work to do.
"Sorry guys," I mumbled, "I'm out of it today. What were you saying?"
Jason snorted. "Out of it? You've been staring at nothing for the last half hour. If you didn't usually do 90 percent of the work, I'd be outraged."
"It's okay," said Hannah, understanding as always. "But we need to get through this. We have to present our results next week."
"I know. My bad. Where do we stand?"
Our project was to compare human DNA to that of several animal species to determine which are our closest relatives.
"Neck-deep, by my count." Jason sighed. "Let's face it. We're going to have to work . . ." His eyes closed in dramatic agony. ". . . On the weekend."
Hannah giggled. "Looks like it. Let's exchange phone numbers."
It felt strange, storing Hannah Wythe's digits in my cell. She was popular, cool, admired by all. Strange, and oddly like trespassing.
Self-confidence at an all-time high, eh Tory?
"I'll take the cystic fibrosis gene," said Jason. "That section compares humans to chimps, gorillas, and orangutans. My money's on the chimps."
"I can handle the bone-growth protein sequences," I said. My menagerie would be pigs, rabbits, and sheep.
Hannah nodded agreeably. "That leaves me with Leptin counts for cows, dogs, and horses."
The bell rang, sounding our release.
"My house on Sunday?" Jason was already headed to the door. "We can go over results and plan the presentation."
"Okay." Hannah and I responded as one. Jinx.
The day continued to drag. At lunch Hi and I met at our usual spot, out the cafeteria's back door and across the lawn, on a small stone bench. I ate a cucumber and cream cheese sandwich. Hi worked on a veggie panini.
I was bagging my wrapper when I saw Jason walking our way.
"What the hey, Tor?" Hi murmured under his breath. "Popular jock approaching. I doubt he's looking for me."
"Relax."
"Tory, I just thought of something!" Jason called.
"First time for everything," whispered Hi.
"Shh. Jason's nice."
"Nice. Right. Watch, he won't even acknowledge me."
Flopping to the grass in front of the bench, Jason cocked his chin at Hi. "What's up, man?"
"Nothing, bro." Hi, playing it cool. "Chillin'." He leaned back, hands laced behind his head.
Jason refocused on me. "You've got an iPhone, right?"
I nodded, curious where this was going.
"Great! Download iFollow." He displayed the icon on his own cell. "It's a free GPS communications app."
"Okay." Sounded easy. "Do I need to join anything?"
Jason nodded. "Join the group: Bolton Lacrosse. Password: state-champs."
I installed, and joined. With me, the group had seven members.
"Hit Locator," Jason said.
I did. A city map appeared, with seven glowing circles bunched together at the school's address.
"See those dots?" Jason asked. "That's us. When we're logged in, our orbs will appear on the map wherever we go. Pretty slick, huh?"
"Definitely," I agreed.
I meant it. I intended to start a separate circle for my crew. But why did Jason want me to join his lacrosse group?
Jason pulled up the features page. "Now that you've linked in, we can text, chat, share documents, that kind of stuff. Exchanging project info will be a snap. Hannah's already in."
Ah. Schoolwork.
"Tory, not you too!"
Chance Claybourne could move so quietly it was almost creepy. I hadn't heard him approach.
"Not another information junky?" Chance stood behind Jason, a tut, tut expression on his perfect face. "Why do people persist with this 'new app' madness? Privacy is dead."
"You've got a cell too," Jason retorted.
"True." Chance produced a mobile probably hot during the Clinton years. First term. "My father wants me at a moment's notice, so I'm cursed with this vulgar device." A wink came my way. "Three missed calls this morning."
Chance's phone clearly lacked Internet capability, computer functions, or even an MP3 player. Hell, the thing didn't even have a liquid crystal display. It belonged in a museum.
"The current phone obsession is a disease," Chance said. "Everyone's gone mad, typing to themselves all day long like mindless robots."
Guilty. If I misplace my iPhone for fifteen minutes, I get the shakes. Call me a technology addict, but I feel naked without it. Hi looked downright offended.