Simon’s absence in assembly was the final confirmation that I was right.
“I hope he’s okay,” Maz whispered as Mr Masch droned on about showing consideration for Year Twelve in their final week of exams. “It’s not like him to be away the day a Science assignment’s due.”
I tried to think of a tactful way to bring up my suspicions about the reason for Simon’s absence. “Maz, what if the person behind all this Larrie stuff doesn’t so much hate her as like me?”
Maz looked at me blankly.
“Simon,” I said.
“Yeah, he might be able to help figure out who it is,” said Maz. “But I thought you’d banned me from discussing it with him.”
“No, I mean Simon’s behind it. He’s Camille.”
“Shut it or I’ll see you in detention,” hissed Brandy from behind us.
We whipped our heads to face the stage, but out of the corner of my eye I could see Maz shaking her head.
“You’ve really lost the plot this time,” she said when we got out of the hall. “First of all, Simon would never do anything to hurt you – the poor fool worships you. And second, who would he have got the photo from in the first place? He’s not exactly wired into the Year Twelve social scene.”
“But he does know all about how to create fake online identities and hack into Facebook accounts, doesn’t he? And he’s got access to every username and password the school office has ever used – in fact, he probably created them himself.”
“True, but Simon would never – I mean, why would he?”
“I don’t know, Maz. Maybe he’s under some delusion that he’s helping me by making Larrie look bad? Or maybe he’s trying to get me back for not being interested in him? Face it, he’s the one person at Whitlam with both reason and know-how. And when I confronted him yesterday he didn’t deny it.”
“Okay, say you’re right – and I’m not saying you are right, but I can’t think of a more plausible explanation right now – maybe now he knows that you know it’s him he’ll stop?”
I shook my head. “Larrie got another message this morning, and it was the nastiest one yet. I have to do something before Simon goes too far.”
“What have you got in mind?” asked Maz.
“Revenge, obviously, but first he has to be stopped. Larrie was really upset this morning, Maz. I don’t know how much more of this she can take.”
“You’ve changed your tune! What happened to my-big-sister-is-a-bitch-and-she’s-ruining-my-life?”
“Let’s just say I realised Larrie and I have more in common than I thought.”
Maz looked sceptical. “Really?”
“Except for fancying Beth,” I added. “I still have way better taste than Larrie does.”
“Ahem, do I have to remind you about Josh ‘the-love-god’ Turner? Ugh, speak of the sleazebag.” Maz nodded over my shoulder.
I turned to see Josh walking towards us. My knees gave an involuntary wobble.
“Al, wait,” he called when Maz grabbed my arm and started to pull me in the opposite direction. “Please.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to hear what he has to say.”
Maz’s expression suggested she disagreed, but she stopped tugging me.
When he reached us, Josh pulled a red rose from behind his back. “Can we talk?”
“I’d better be getting to class,” Maz said through tight lips. “I wouldn’t want to be late.”
Josh held out the rose. “It looked better before assembly. I had to stick it up my jumper so Brandy wouldn’t confiscate it.”
“I don’t mind,” I said, too thrilled about receiving my first-ever rose to worry about the fact that it was half-dead. “It’s the thought that counts.”
I held the drooping flower to my nose, ready to make a big show of how lovely it smelled, but it had no scent.
“Mmmm, nice,” I said anyway, because, after all, a rose is a rose – the universal flower of love.
“I bought it to say sorry for the Facebook stuff. I didn’t mean to make it sound … you know, it’s just that you’re so pretty and I’m so lucky to be with you, I couldn’t help bragging.”
I sniffed the rose again to hide my smile. I didn’t want Josh to think he could get me back so easily.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. Please give me another chance. The soccer final’s after school tomorrow, and I can’t play my best knowing that I’ve blown it with you. Please, Al, we haven’t beaten Westside Grammar all season. Please.”
His voice was so sad and so remorseful, there was no way I could maintain my grudge. “Maybe. But you’ve got some serious sucking up to do if you want to get back in my good books.”
He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “How about we start with churros after school?”
“Make it after the game tomorrow,” I said. “I’ve got a few things I have to take care of this afternoon.”
Maz narrowed her eyes when I put the wilting rose in front of me on the art table. “Why do I suspect you’ve forgiven him?”
“Josh is really sorry. He begged me for another chance.”
“Hmph,” said Maz.
I didn’t want to have to justify my reasons for taking Josh back. I opened my sketchbook to the portrait of Maz and erased most of what I’d drawn in the last class.
“At least Josh has admitted he did the wrong thing. Now, what are we going to do about Simon?”
I’d assumed Maz would come up with some super-gruesome, super-evil revenge ideas (starting with kicking Simon out of the band and banishing him from our group of friends, if I had any say in it), so I was surprised when she said the only way to stop him from doing any more damage was to let my parents deal with it.
“We might be the best at thinking up how to get back at him, but there’s nothing like a bit of parental rage to stop someone in their tracks,” she said.
I tried to hide my disappointment. “I guess you’re right. But how am I going to break it to them?”
While I waited for the bus after school, I tried to think of a way to tell Mum and Dad about Simon that would make them get on the phone to the Lutzes but not be angry with me. There didn’t seem any way to frame the situation that didn’t point to me being the cause of Simon’s crazy behaviour, even if it’d been completely inadvertent on my part.
I was glad of the distraction when my phone buzzed with a message. Until I saw it was from Simon. I prepared myself for something unpleasant and hit “Show”.
Meet me at Say Cheese asap.
My first thought was that it could be some kind of trap. Why would Simon want me to meet him at the shop when it wasn’t even open on Mondays? Still, if he wanted to confess, it would make the whole situation much easier. Maybe I could even convince him to leave Larrie alone and my parents need never know.
I ran to the shopping village, too impatient to wait for the bus. I was rounding the corner into Kingston Street when someone reached out of the laneway next to Say Cheese and yanked me backwards. Before I could catch my breath enough to scream, a hand covered my mouth. My heart raced and images of kidnapping scenes from movies flashed through my mind.
“It’s okay, Al, it’s me,” whispered Simon, which made me panic more. “I need you to be quiet so I can show you something. If I let you go, will you promise you won’t run away or scream?”
I nodded, planning to scream and run as loud and as fast as I could, straight to Mum’s work.
“Okay. If you look round the corner, you’ll see Camille standing outside Say Cheese right now.”
It occurred to me that Simon might be lying, but my curiosity was sufficiently aroused for me to put my plan on hold. He let me go and we both crept to the corner of the building. I stuck my head far enough around the corner to see the front of the shop. There was someone using the payphone.
“Recognise them?” asked Simon.
I couldn’t see the person’s face, but I was pretty sure they were too big to be female. Then they shifted out of the shadows and I saw a thatch of blond hair.
I whirled round to face Simon. “Is this your idea of a joke?”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it for yourself.”
“What I see is someone using a public phone. Why should I believe Josh is Camille?”
“Have you noticed how long he’s been dialling?” asked Simon. “Like, the whole time we’ve been watching him. And why? Because that payphone can send text messages. Anonymous text messages.”
I peeked back around the corner. He was right, Josh was still tapping at the keypad.
Simon continued. “I thought he was up to something, using the payphone all the time, but I didn’t know what it was until you said that Larrie had been getting anonymous texts. After I saw Josh make two separate trips to this phone last night, I knew my suspicions were correct. He came back on the way to school this morning, and he’s been there for at least the last fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, Sherlock, but that doesn’t explain how ‘Camille’ managed to join Whitlam’s Facebook group. I don’t think Josh is known for his computer hacking skills. Unlike some people.”
If Simon understood what I was inferring, he ignored it. “He didn’t need any hacking skills – all he had to do was offer to help his mum out with a little boring administration work after school and he’d have access to everything, including Larrie’s mobile phone number. Getting onto Facebook was the easy part, since the office stays logged into every application Whitlam uses, despite my memo to Mr Masch about how vulnerable it makes the school network’s security. And once he was there, changing the password would’ve been a cinch.”
I studied his face, trying to work out whether he was telling the truth. What he said made sense, but it could equally apply to him. The front pocket of my bag made a muffled brrring. When I pulled out Larrie’s phone, there was a message from a private number.
Hi, girlfriend – I’m getting ready for my big finale. Did you know over 100 million people visit YouTube every day? No wonder hot videos spread like wildfire! Mwah mwah, Camille
Al Miller got it wrong.