The Takedown

“Yeah, but then she equaled busy. Now she equals upset. Are we all breaking up?”


Fawn’s lower lip had fallen open as if she were emitting a silent wail. Sharma whipped her head to look at me, like, Are you seeing this? I let out a rush of air. Fawn and Sharma were good people and great friends. Without question they definitely belonged in the fostering-friendship category. I brushed Fawn’s hair off her shoulders.

“Mommy and Daddy love each other very much, but sometimes Mommy and Daddy fight, and it’s no reflection on you….”

Fawn flicked my hands away, but she was smiling now. “Doofus.”

The half-minute chimes sounded over the loudspeakers. We all bolted toward the back stairwell.

“B-T-W,” Sharma said as we ran upstairs. “Guess who came back from her li’l family vacay early?”

“Jessie?” I asked.

“Y-E-S,” Sharma said. “Saw her online Sunday night. Asked how the trip was going. She said: Finito. Said best part was her parents let her fly back early. Christmas night, I guess.”

“Which means she could have taken those pics of me at Mr. E.’s. Maybe that was her on the train. Is she in school? Sharmie, did you say I’m dying to talk to her?”

“Uh-huh. She quit the game soon as I brought it up. And no, she equals pretending she’s still away.”

“Lucky,” Fawn said, thoroughly out of breath.

“Fawnie, why are you up here? Your class is on one.”

“I know,” she wailed as I powered on my Doc. “I didn’t want to miss anything.”

I laughed and hugged Fawn, then Sharma and I slipped into class. But not before I sent a rapid txt. Just two words.


moi Jessie. Please.


The next four periods passed with me expecting to be called out of class at any moment. I had cold-brew jitters but with none of the perks of actually drinking a cold brew. But Dr. Graff never sent for me. And AnyLies never posted anything. So either both threats were only that, empty threats, or two different people were crafting my downfall right at that very moment. Either way, my attendance record was safe for one more day.

Then, finally, lunch. As Sharma lost herself in her online worlds, I stared at the cafeteria door. The one lucky thing about discovering yesterday that all my friends had been lying to me was that it had wiped Mac’s date almost entirely out of my head. I still hadn’t heard from him, so I thought there was no way he would visit me in lunch. But then, ten minutes into the period, he was sliding into the seat next to mine.

I’d resolved to give him the cold shoulder all day. Was it immature that I was mad he went on a date with someone else immediately after I said I wouldn’t be his girlfriend at that moment in time?

Sure.

Was I okay with being immature in this instance?

You bet I was.

But now that he was there, all I felt was relief. I couldn’t wait to tell him about my fight with Audra and AnyLies’s new threat and how I’d stood up to Graff. He met my smile with a relieved one of his own. Sharma polished her glasses, put them firmly back on the bridge of her nose.

“Wowza, guys. Mackenzie Rodriguez, is that a hickey on your neck?”

The bite of liverwurst sandwich I’d taken fell out of my mouth onto my lap. Mac flipped up the collar of his shirt.

“Nah.”

“Yes it is.” An enormous un-Sharma-like smile lit up her sharp features. “Happy New Year to you two. Finally.”

“Yeah, um.” I crumbled up the rest of my uneaten lunch, cleared my throat. “Mac went on a date last night.”

Sharma’s head rocked back like she’d put on an EarRing and the volume was on high.

“Whoa.” She held the next one longer. “Whoaaaaa. Yuck. Just, all-caps, YUCK.”

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Mac’s expression fall. Dark circles ringed his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. It was almost as if…

“Is that the same outfit you were wearing yesterday?” I asked.

Mac shrugged.

“It must have been a really excellent date if you didn’t even go home.”

“What do you care?” Mac didn’t shrink from my gaze. “Not everyone thinks it makes them dirty to kiss me.”

I wanted to mush my sandwich in his face. I wanted to scrub that hickey—could it be more enormous?—off his neck with my keys. So much for Mom’s theory that he didn’t want to hook up with anyone but me. I wanted to hunt down the chick that gave it to him and throw her in a solar trash compactor. Luckily, my Doc buzzed. I jumped.

Rory—FaceAlerting me. I angrily swiped accept.

“What?” I answered.

“Have we reached an age when no one says hello anymore?” He was clearly at Headquarters. Behind him, two people were playing holobadminton with their hands. “So it’s not any of the girls.”

“You’re sure?”

“Uh-huh. Or the nerdy guy, either. Turns out that I was actually friends with that guy, so I did a little profile scrolling. Dude’s darkest secret is that he belongs to a live-action medieval-battles club. I stayed up all night watching vids. Peeps run around a park in crazy getups and smack each other with foam weapons. It’s amazing. This one guy’s foam battle-ax was literally the size of a Hydrogen Coop. The dude and I got to messaging. I might join.”

“Hydrogen Coop? Why’d you choose that reference?”

“Uh, ’cause it was accurate?”

A holobirdie flew straight at Rory’s head. One of the guys lunged for it. The collision rolled Rory out of the FaceAlert window. He wheeled himself back in.

“Come on, you guys. I’m on business here.”

“So that leaves eleven names.” Despite the fact that Sharma and I were pelting him with eye daggers, Mac swiped into CB, pulled our list from yesterday up on holo, and flicked away the girls and the medievalist. “My money’s on this normal guy with the avat profile pic. I mean, mira, what dude listens to oldies like Dave Matthews and Eminem, and also Primal Rage?”

“A dude with no musical legitimacy.” Rory ducked and looked over his shoulder, waiting for another birdie attack. “Bro has traveled a lot for being only twenty. I’ll look into normal guy first thing after lunch.”

“Already did,” Sharma said. “No activity on his account for two days now.”

“Who said that?” Rory asked.

Sharma shook her head and waved her hands in front of her: no, no, no, no. I kept my Doc trained on me and Mac.

“Big deal,” Mac said. “So normal boy doesn’t like to be online. I haven’t checked into my accounts for at least two days.”

“Technically, you have,” Sharma said. “Look, CB accesses your other sites. Click here, your profile shows what you’ve looked at online, where you’ve checked in, who you’ve…ew.” She stopped speaking. Her eyes shot up to me, then quickly away. “Normal boy doesn’t have that, which means…”

“Ew”? What did that mean? And why had she looked at me when she’d said it?

Corrie Wang's books