‘How the hell could I post that?’ I asked, panicked and angry at once. ‘I’m here with you!’
Kane didn’t reply. He was too busy watching the comments rack up. Manisha Patel, Jamie, even Danny got on it . . .
‘Twenty-eight likes already,’ said Kane. ‘What the fuck is happening?’
I felt my stomach turn, and sat down on his bed. Kane grabbed his phone, pointing it at me.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked.
‘If I take your picture, it’ll have a time code,’ he explained. ‘We can prove you were here – if we need to.’
‘Why do we need to prove anything?’ I asked. ‘I’ve not done anything wrong.’
Kane shrugged. ‘Won’t hurt,’ he replied.
I let him continue, my head spinning. How had someone hacked my Facebook account whilst Kane and I were accessing it? And why the malicious posts? ‘I’m gonna be sick,’ I said.
Kane made me sit down with my head between my legs and sat next to me. ‘Who else knows your Facebook password?’ he asked.
‘No one,’ I replied through deep breaths.
‘Not even Tilly?’
I sat up and gave him a glare. ‘Tilly would never do this,’ I insisted.
I was convinced of it too. Despite all our problems, I knew she loved me. She’d said so. She would never do this to me, no matter what.
‘Does she know your password or not?’ Kane asked again.
‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘At least I think so – but this isn’t her, Kane!’
‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘Your Facebook password?’
‘Why?’
Kane looked at my home page. The likes and comments were building up. ‘Is it easy to guess?’ he said. ‘Like, for people who know you?’
I shrugged. ‘How do I know?’ I replied. ‘It’s my mum’s maiden name with her birth year after it.’
‘Your mum’s Sikh, right?’ he said.
‘Punjabi,’ I corrected. ‘She doesn’t do religion.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘but she would have been called Kaur, wouldn’t she? Like other Punjabi women?’
The surprise must have shown.
‘Everyone knows that,’ he said. ‘At least everyone with Sikh friends does.’
‘I guess so.’
‘Mother’s maiden name is a default security question on loads of sites,’ he pointed out. ‘If I knew your mum, I could guess at “Kaur”, no problem. Then I’d just need her birthday.’
I saw where he was going. ‘Yeah,’ I countered, ‘but you’d have to make the connection. Like, know that’s how I constructed my password.’
Kane nodded slowly. ‘Good point.’
‘No one would guess that – it’s too random.’
‘What about a virus?’ he asked.
‘How would I know?’
Kane grabbed his laptop and moved next to me. He typed a search into Google. ‘Here’s a list of suspicious things that infected PCs might do,’ he said.
I read through the list and realized a few had happened on mine. My hands felt clammy and my heartbeat raced. I felt almost violated – like someone was rifling through my most private things.
‘The screen went blank the other day – like it was dead,’ I told him. ‘Then it started up again. It does that a lot and the mouse does its own thing sometimes too. And it’s always slow.’
‘Have you downloaded anything dodgy?’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t look at dodgy stuff,’ I told him. ‘I’m not a boy.’
Kane smiled, despite this horrible situation. For a second it made me feel better – but only a second. ‘I ain’t talking porn,’ he said. ‘I mean, like, attachments or those stupid links people stick on FB.’
I thought hard. Usually, I ignored anything like that. The only one I remembered came from Amy – nearly six months earlier now. She had been posting links to anti-bullying websites, in what I now realized might have been a plea for help, and I had viewed them all. One of them had required a download.
‘Amy posted a link,’ I told him. ‘A video blog about Internet bullying. Tilly and me looked at it. Max too. I think we were the only ones she tagged in it – apart from Molly. Everyone else just took the piss anyway.’
‘You sure there was nothing else?’
‘No – just that one.’
‘Was the link OK?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘apart from the first bit.’
‘Why?’
‘It was some unrecognized format – I had to download a software program to watch it. We all did.’
Kane’s eyes lit up. ‘A video file that wouldn’t open on anything else?’
‘It said that,’ I revealed. ‘But after I downloaded the software, it still played on Windows Media.’
Kane thought a moment. ‘Anything else weird or odd?’
‘No,’ I replied.
‘You OK if we get Alfie to check your computer?’
‘Check it when?’
Kane grabbed his phone. Seconds later, I heard a reggae ringtone from the landing – Kane hadn’t closed his door. ‘You home, bro?’ he asked.
‘Standing at your door,’ said Alfonso.
We turned to look at him. He was tall, like Kane, but much bigger. His head was shaved, and his face, although plump, was an older version of Kane’s – they had the same pale brown eyes and smooth, caramel skin. Alfonso wore navy jeans, trainers and a blue and white checked shirt,
‘Bruv,’ said Kane, ‘this is Lily.’
‘Hey,’ I said.
When he smiled, Alfonso’s entire face shone. The brothers exchanged glances before Alfie replied.
‘Sister,’ he said. ‘A pleasure to meet you properly.’
‘You too, Alfonso.’
He grinned. ‘Alfie, please,’ he insisted. ‘What can I do for you?’
Kane explained what had happened, and showed Alfie the laptop.
‘You should change your Facebook password,’ Alfie told me. ‘Like, right now.’ He made a few clicks, then gave me the laptop.
I changed the password to my father’s name, Dalbir, with his birth year on the end. No one knew my dad’s first name except for family and Tilly.
‘Where’s your PC?’ Alfie asked.
The journey to mine was short and fast. Alfie’s Mercedes was the nicest car I’d ever been in. The stereo was so loud the bass made my ribs vibrate. And the seats hugged me like a long-lost aunt. When we reached my house, I didn’t want to move. I had no idea what would be waiting for me when I booted up my computer.
Inside, I led them straight upstairs, logged on, and Kane and I accessed my Facebook. It asked for my new password and took a while to load. When it did, I quickly wished that it hadn’t. My home page was going crazy.
Alfie had taken a briefcase from his boot, and opened it on my bed. ‘Various bits I might have to use,’ he said. He took out a small laptop, and some flash drives. ‘How old is this thing?’ he asked, eyeing my PC like it was a turd.
‘I dunno – maybe five years?’ I replied. ‘I hate it.’
He gave me a pitying look then set to work. ‘You make tea?’ he asked, tapping at my keyboard.
‘Sometimes,’ I replied.
‘Good time, this,’ he added. ‘Three sugars, strong as you like . . .’
I took Kane downstairs, as Alfie began to mumble to himself. When we got back, five minutes later, he was sitting staring at the screen.
‘Did you change your password back at our house?’ he asked.
‘Yeah – why?’
He pointed to the screen. ‘And you didn’t access Facebook from your phone – just now?’ he added.
‘No. I just typed the password in when we got here.’
‘Someone’s playing games with you, then,’ he said.
‘I think you’ve got a RAT infestation.’
‘A what?’ both Kane and I asked together.
‘Remote Access Trojan,’ Alfie replied.
On the screen, the latest comment on my bogus post was from me too. My blood froze as I read it:
If you think Molly’s a slag – make sure to tell her. If I was that desperate, I would kill myself – hint, hint, Molly . . . LMFAO. LOL.