Maybe it was egotistical (I mean, surprise, surprise), but right from the start I’d assumed this was about something I’d done. It had to be, as what stranger would ever hold this big a grudge? But knowing there were five other victims changed everything. What was it AnyLies had originally told me? That she “despised me from afar.” Maybe Graff was right. I needed to shift my focus. This whole time I’d been assuming I was dealing with someone I encountered physically on a daily basis—Jessie, Ailey, Ellie, or (sorry, pookie) Audra—because our txts felt personal. Not like some random girl in Duluth hated me, but like someone very near to me in Brooklyn did. But what did distance matter anymore?
Why couldn’t it be someone I’d pissed off online? I was a regular commenter on at least half a dozen political sites. And, I mean, what was more divisive than politics? Although, come to think of it, that answer equaled commenting online at all. Period. I left reviews on every book I ever read, and let’s be honest, it wasn’t due to “this generation’s lack of attention span” that I rarely got through half of them. I was an avid poster on all things nightcore and possibly one of the only fans of Snap Cinco, a group of tiny Guatemalan girls who thought they were fly as SHT and everyone loved to hate on. I left honest (negative) reviews for shirts I bought and returned, bad food or service at restaurants I would never set foot in again, and a whole thread of angry missives on the Unicorn Wars feed when they tried to swap out a main actress for an entirely different actress without even a minor acknowledgment in the dialogue.
I mean, how hard would a You don’t seem like yourself today, Starborn have been?
Never mind that Mac had me listed as his Main Squeeze on ConnectBook and Mac had over a thousand connects, half of whom I’m sure would have loved to see me choke on my breakfast. Actually, mental note, that wasn’t a bad investigative thread to follow.
As the girls went to class, I went in the opposite direction and rushed up Ankle Breaker straight to three.
The main entrance security sensor had already marked me present, so I wasn’t worried about ruining my attendance record. But if Graff caught me sneaking out, there wouldn’t be a choice between sick or suspended. Especially after I’d received her don’t-mess-with-the-security-sensor lecture less than ten minutes ago. I could think of only one salvation.
“Kyle!” Ms. Tompkins said when I barged into the library. “Did you hear Brittany got puked on at the holiday party?”
“What? No!”
Ms. Tompkins was sitting behind a narrow counter next to a few measly shelves of fiction, one window, and two computers. Park Prep could at least try to keep her relevant. She shoved out a stool next to her.
“Yep,” she said. “In like the first ten minutes. Mrs. Claus was forced to make a quick exit. After that only Santa circulated.”
“That’s so not terrible. Did everyone else have a good time?”
“You should have seen all the moms’ faces when they unwrapped the Docs. It was the best party yet, minus one of the most important elements. How you holding up?”
“I’m good,” I said. “In fact, I’m about to go to the ConnectBook offices to figure out who’s hating on me. The only thing is…”
Without a click of hesitation, Ms. Tompkins swiped at her Doc. “You’d probably need an off-grounds pass for that, wouldn’t you?”
Off-grounds passes were something Dr. Graff created. Considering our location in Brooklyn and our proximity to Manhattan, she thought a Park Prep senior could, on occasion, be better educated outside the mansion’s walls than within them—be it at a gallery opening, a ballet performance, a lecture. All we needed was parent and faculty permission.
As Ms. Tompkins swiped to the correct screen, I txted Mac. Regardless of how we defined ourselves, he was the first and only person who came to mind. I didn’t want to be around anyone else for this.
moi Feel like an off-grounds field trip? Hater within reach.
At the end of the day, Mac was still the person I trusted the most. Ironic, considering I’d always thought the biggest reasons I had for not dating him involved lack of trust.
mac Just off train. Nothing sounds better.
Perfect. Today his lateness worked in my favor.
moi You’ll get detention for skipping.
mac What’s one more?
We agreed to meet at my house because WhereYouAt couldn’t find you if you left your Doc at home. My bulky school tablet blipped. On-screen, a bar-coded note said Ms. Tompkins had excused me from all my morning and afternoon classes to do research on Internet safety and protection at the ConnectBook offices. I txted a copy to my Dad. He immediately responded with his e-signature.
“You have no idea how much this means to me,” I said.
“Happy to be of use.” She winked.
“Hey, Ms. Tompkins.” I turned back at the door. “You and Mr. E. never dated, did you?”
“Nope.” She stuck out her tongue, making a gross face. “Just friends. I have a girlfriend. And hey, Kyle, when you do figure out who did this to you, let me know. I intend to level some serious overdue fines on them.”
Without our Docs, Mac and I got turned around getting off the train in the city and walked east instead of west. Mac thought being Doc-free was fun. I felt like I was missing my central nervous system. I had no idea what time it was. I didn’t understand a word anyone was saying if it wasn’t in English. And there were at least three shirts I saw in window displays that I couldn’t add to my Watch List. Not to mention, I hadn’t told anyone what I was thinking in at least forty minutes. In lieu of this, I kept audio txting Mac all my observations.
“Txt Mac: It’s too quiet.”
A bus stopped beside us. Across the street a cabbie laid on his horn. But there was no dinging, buzzing, or alerts. My hand kept reaching into my bag, coming up empty.
“You’re like a malfunctioning windup toy.” Mac laughed. “Whose messages are you afraid you’re missing, anyway? The girls will still be there an hour from now.”
“It’s not them.”
“Found yourself an unskanky novio already?” He tried to keep his voice light.
As if I were the one who would immediately date other people.
“Nooo.” I linked arms with him. “I got into a txt argument with AnyLies last night and I still haven’t heard from her today.”
“Wait. Please tell me, por favor, that you haven’t been txting your hater.”
“I keep thinking if she knows me well enough, she’ll take down the video.”
I didn’t tell Mac it was up to about five hundred txts a day, that I found her constancy comforting. That I’d been kind of crutching on her like she was an Audra replacement. I mean, I’m pretty; I’m not stupid. I knew how crazy it would sound.
“Kyla, that sounds incredibly…”