21

I spent the final few hours of the weekend hammering our website from my home computer – attempting to crack it from the outside. I tried all methods of tracing associated IP addresses or domain ownership, and sometime around midnight, I was finally satisfied that we were still anonymous.

All clear, I texted Seth and Mouse.

Told you, Seth shot back.

Mouse sent a smiley face with whiskers and pointy ears.

Earlier, in a frantic group phone call, Mouse had panicked that ‘investigators’ were looking for us, but Seth had assured him school district cyberinvestigators were just a step above hall monitors. I agreed, but I was more concerned about other people like us. Sometimes, when a hack got a little attention in the news, other hackers made a game of trying to track the newsmakers down, and if our cover got blown too soon, we wouldn’t be able to submit the site to the ACC.

I could only hope we stayed two steps ahead of everyone on our tail.

Zach’s words were still rattling around in my head, keeping me awake as much as the two Monsters and a Red Bull I had burned through while testing the site.

I distracted myself by watching Isabel’s video channel. I didn’t understand all the contouring and shading she was talking about as she covered her face with different creams and powders, but I loved that she did it in two different languages. This counted as studying Spanish, right?

Still, a guy can only watch make-up videos for so long, and I ended up cruising the web for nothing in particular and falling down that internet rabbit hole where a search for a new backpack leads to hiking leads to Appalachian Trail, and suddenly you’re spending the next two hours reading some guy’s travel blog about the three months he spent hiking the AT.

This sort of web trap happened to me a lot, but it wasn’t a complete waste of time. I liked to catalog all my internet trivia for future use impressing girls. Maybe someday a girl would want to know whether it’s more common to hike the Appalachian Trail from the north end or the south, and I would be ready with the answer.

*

If I had any lingering doubts about whether the school cybersnoops had tracked us down, they disintegrated Monday morning. Flyers posted in every hallway had the distinct whiff of desperation. Seth ripped down one that had been taped to a no-bullying sign and read aloud:

‘Stand up to cyberbullies.

Anyone with information about websites targeting or belittling students or posting videos without their knowledge should report those sites and their users to the administration. Emails and phone calls will be anonymous. Further, any student found to be contributing to such a site could face penalties including suspension, expulsion, or even criminal charges.’

He crumpled the flyer into a ball and tossed it into his open locker. ‘Well, that’s going to hurt our submissions.’

‘Cyberbullies?’ Mouse said, his usual bounce shifting to more of a slow rock from foot to foot. ‘Is that what we are?’

‘No.’ Seth said. ‘We’re the ones stopping them. The school’s just embarrassed that we’re doing their job for them.’

I shushed them both. The morning chatter of hundreds of students, combined with Haver’s shitty hallway acoustics, made it impossible to overhear anyone else’s conversation, but cell phones could still pick up voices, and thanks to our trend-setting, camera phones were constantly recording. Wouldn’t it be laughable if we got caught confessing on camera … the architects of our own undoing?

Seth lowered his voice to a whisper, so Mouse and I had to lean in to hear. ‘I’m just saying, that article embarrassed the shit out of the school. The site is already demonstrating that cybermonitoring doesn’t work. The ACC judges are going to eat it up.’

Mouse fished the ball of paper from Seth’s locker and spread it open, reading it over as if the message might change.

‘But we’re not the bullies, right?’ He asked again, his face folded in a frown.

‘Would you stop using that word?’ Seth growled.

They shared a look that I didn’t understand, and a second later, the staring contest was broken by an arm swinging down between them.

‘Here’s one!’

A hand connected to the swinging arm plucked the flyer out of Mouse’s grasp.

Seth spun to snatch it back but retreated when he saw the boy who had grabbed it. He was a senior, like Seth, but packing an extra fifty pounds of muscle and standing at least a foot taller.

‘Check it out.’ The boy held the flyer out to two of his friends, and they all crowded around to read it. ‘It’s got to be because of the Carver video, right?’

‘Or Windemere,’ one friend said. He looked up at us, as if we were part of their hallway huddle. ‘I heard she got fired.’

‘No way,’ Mouse said, real awe in his voice.

The boy nodded. ‘Yeah, she hasn’t been here for like a week.’

‘Nah,’ the other friend jumped in. ‘She’s not fired … yet. My mom says she’s going to stay home and get paid for it while they investigate.’

‘She’s probably home getting her booze on,’ the flyer snatcher quipped. His friends laughed, and we joined in, awkwardly. Then they moved on down the hall, smashing the paper back into a ball.

Our group fell silent in their wake. It was one thing to wish bad things for Mrs. Windemere. It was another thing to make that wish come true.

‘Eli!’ A sharp voice sliced through the quiet, and we broke apart in a guilty way.

Zach stopped in his tracks, doing a double take as he saw the two strangers I was standing with. He adjusted his pack on his shoulder. ‘You weren’t at your locker.’

‘Yeah, I was at Seth’s locker.’ I made a lame gesture at Seth, as if this somehow explained anything.

An uncomfortable silence grew as Zach waited for me to say more. I glanced at Seth and Mouse, who stared back as if to say, He’s your friend. Deal with it.

‘Spanish!’ I blurted out. ‘Seth’s helping me out. He’s in Senior Spanish, so …’

‘I take French,’ Seth said. Then, at my death glare, he added, ‘And Spanish. I also take Spanish. Languages are so easy. I would take German, but why take something you already speak fluently, right?’

If it had been anybody but Seth, it would have sounded like backpedaling, but his effortless arrogance really sold it.

The eye roll I shared with Zach was genuine.

‘I should have just asked Misty,’ I said.

I expected Zach to laugh, but instead he squinted a little, the way he does in chess when he doesn’t understand the move his opponent just made. His narrowed eyes travelled from me to Seth to Mouse and then lingered, as if waiting for the small jumpy kid to explain his presence.

But all he got was, ‘Hi. I’m Mouse.’

‘Hi,’ Zach replied. He adjusted the pack slung over his shoulder and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Finally, he looked back at me, and his squint had smoothed out – replaced by a blank look better fitting a poker player than a chess master. ‘Guess I’ll catch you at lunch then.’

I slumped against the wall of lockers as Zach shuffled off.

‘Who is that chode?’ Seth asked.

‘He’s my friend, and he’s not a chode. He’s a wicked coder, actually. I would have asked him to join us if the ACC allowed teams of four.’

And if I didn’t think he would narc on all of us before we had a chance to compete.

‘He could be an alternate,’ Mouse suggested.

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think he’d go for the website.’

‘Oh. In that case …’ Mouse pressed his lips into a cross between a smile and a frown that somehow passed for an apology.

‘You haven’t told him anything, have you?’ Seth demanded.

‘No, not at all—’

‘Because if we get busted before the competition, we’ll fail the off-site section.’

‘I know, I didn’t—’

‘It won’t be a successful exploit unless we get all the way to the ACC without getting caught.’

‘Relax,’ I said. ‘I’m not trying to blow our cover.’

The ACC was my chance to escape Haver and Misty and college and to live a life less … expected. That alone was worth a few more weeks of white lies.

Mouse twisted back and forth, bumping my arm with his elbow every other swing. ‘Your friend should come hang with us sometime, though … when we’re not practising. Or working on the website. Or in Seth’s basement.’

‘When are we ever not doing those things?’ I asked.

Seth slammed his locker shut. ‘Never. So tell your chode friend you’re sorry, and maybe next year he can take my spot on the team.’

My thoughts exactly.

I watched Seth walk away, shaking my head. ‘What’s his problem today?’

‘The flyers freaked him out,’ Mouse said. ‘Plus, he’s got senior stress. All the graduating kids are cranky right now. Also, you know, he’s just kind of a dick sometimes.’

I laughed. ‘Truth.’

We started down the hall together in silence until Mouse hopped ahead and turned to walk backward in front of me. He tilted his head to one side, a serious look on his face. ‘What is a chode, anyway?’