“Well, I’m quite social, in case that wasn’t obvious.”
“Not me,” I said.
“I’ve noticed. Alex will put an end to that soon enough, if you let her. And I’m happy to help as well.”
“Thanks,” I said. My phone buzzed from where I’d left it on the coffee table. I really, really hoped it was Alex, telling me about the party, or that she’d found a new Prospect, or that Bryan’s puppy dog eyes were having an effect on her. I picked it up and read the text.
First favor: get more Novalert. Instructions to follow.
Oh no. I started to feel sick. The Novalert was definitely out of my system now.
I had to get Raj out of the house before I lost it. “Listen, I’m really wiped out. Thanks for coming by. You should go back to the party. I’ll see you in school, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, though he looked a little bummed. “Until Monday, then.”
“Right, Monday.”
As soon as the door closed behind him I looked at my phone again. Instructions to follow? What kind of instructions? When were they supposed to follow?
I had to go back to my lists. Raj had distracted me from what was really important: figuring out what was going on. I read over what I’d written and realized it was all stupid. The real question was simple: Who was Blocked Sender? I’d now received texts when both Alex and Raj were in the room with me, and though it was possible either one of them was working with someone else, it just seemed too crazy. And risky. Would a blackmailer really take that kind of risk? I didn’t think so. Then again, what did I know about blackmailers?
I felt a little better at the thought that Alex and Raj were unlikely suspects, but that left me with no idea who the likely suspects were. I couldn’t do this myself. I had to trust someone. But my track record in that area was not so great.
I had to try. I had to be better now. I steeled myself, then got out my phone and texted Alex.
Something’s happened. Call tomorrow morning as soon as you get up.
12.
The phone rang at seven the next morning, much earlier than I’d expected, given that Alex had probably had a late night. “Love the cryptic text,” she said. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want to talk about it over the phone,” I said.
“Coffee?”
“Too public. Can I come over?”
“No problem,” she said. “My room’s still trashed from last night, but you don’t care, right?”
“Not even a little bit.” Her room was the least of my concerns.
I stopped at Philz on the way over and got us coffees and two of those amazing croissants I’d had with Ms. Davenport. “I’m cleaning,” Alex said when I got there. We’d left a pile of clothes on her bed after choosing her outfit for the party, and apparently she’d just pushed them all onto the floor before going to sleep. Now she was moving them back onto the bed.
“That’s not exactly cleaning,” I said. “Cleaning would be putting them back in the closet.”
“Too time-consuming,” she said. “Ooh, treats!” She grabbed a croissant and started eating it right away, crumbs getting everywhere.
“More like bribery,” I said. “Looks like it’s working, too. How was the party?”
“That is so not the topic at hand. I mean, it was fine. It would have been more fun with you there, though. Did Raj end up coming over? Is that the news?”
“He did, but that’s not what this is about. Although it is kind of about him.” The easiest thing to do was just to show her, so I got out my phone and pulled up the texts from Blocked Sender.
She took the phone. I watched her face as she scrolled through the texts and tried to read her expression.
First shock, then recognition.
She looked up at me. “So he got you too,” she said.
That was not what I expected. “What do you mean? Do you know who Blocked Sender is?”
“Is that what you’re calling him? I just went with Asshole. No, I don’t know who he is. But I got some texts like this a few months ago. Nothing to do with the Novalert—just someone who knew a little too much about me. Scary threats, just like you, then requests for favors.”
“The same favors?”
“No, different for me. It was like the person knew me well enough to know what to ask for. The favors were mostly about setting up offshore bank accounts and how to move money around online.”
“How do you know about all that?”
She pointed to her computer. “I told you about the poker, but it’s a little more serious than I let on. I make a lot of money. Like, all those clothes in there? I bought them myself. And I have enough saved to pay for college.”
“You’re kidding,” I said. “I knew you were good, but I had no idea you were that good.”
“Well, I learned from the best,” she said. “My uncle made millions before all that bad stuff happened.”