Chapter Five

Amber

I dropped my bag on the wooden bench in the entryway and beelined it straight to the kitchen after we’d wrapped up Code Club. I flung open the silverware drawer, grabbed a spoon, and snatched the Nutella jar from the snack cabinet. After unscrewing the lid, I flung it to the side, dipped the spoon into the hazelnut gold, and shoved it in my mouth.

“Bad day?” I jolted at Mom’s voice from behind me.

I spun around to face the bar that connected the kitchen and living room, watching as she eyed me from the other side.

I licked the heaven off the spoon.

“Yes. No, not really,” I said.

“Well, now that that’s all cleared up,” she said, laughing.

I chuckled, too. “You know, some days I just…” I huffed. “It was sexual awareness day today.” Mom rolled her eyes. “Right? And Hannah! I mean, I can never help her. And the school isn’t helping anyone in that department. Pretend like it’ll kill you, that’ll teach ’em!” I did my best principal impression and tossed my spoon in the sink, grabbed a clean one, and dipped it into the jar again.

Mom raised an eyebrow, her gaze following the spoonful into my mouth. “You need a bowl?”

“No,” I mumbled around the spoon. “And then someone totally up and pranked the video at the assembly today.”

“No way. How?”

“Crazy sexy clips blasted over Principal Tanner’s usual one.”

Mom cleared her throat, hiding a laugh. “Can’t wait to read that email,” she said.

“It was funny, but Tanner was super pissed.”

“Naturally.”

“And, I don’t know. I just…hate it.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” she said, nodding, though I knew I wasn’t being coherent. I was fuming, but that was the great thing about Mom; she could always keep up regardless if I made sense or not.

“I swear if Wilmont wasn’t the only academy to offer those extensive computer science courses you love, I would’ve yanked you out of there years ago.”

I gasped. “I’d never want to be away from Hannah.”

“Of course,” she said.

I cleaned the spoon, tossed it into the sink to be with its sister, and took a deep breath. “I joined an after-school club today.”

“That’s a twist! Which one?” she asked, leaning her elbows on the bar, giving me her full attention. Her long auburn hair hung in waves around her shoulders, half covering the loose, flowery top she wore.

I closed my eyes. “Code Club.”

“Oh?” she asked, standing up straight. “Won’t that be fun?”

“Yes. Well, sort of,” I said. “It’s just me and one other person right now.” I wished my heart wouldn’t race so hard when thinking of the challenge… Damn, I needed to come up with something good. Something epic.

“Not a ton of people joining where coding is concerned?” she asked.

“Not so much,” I said, laughing.

“Good for you.” Pride beamed from her eyes, but I shook my head.

“For what?”

“Being you and owning it one hundred percent no matter what anyone else is doing.”

I shrugged. “We’ll see how long the club lasts without any other members.” My mind calculated all the ways in which I could make Principal Tanner’s life difficult—without hurting him, of course. I wasn’t into black hat.

I wanted to do something epic, beat Dean, and maybe be helpful at the same time. I chewed on that for a minute before focusing on Mom again. “I’m sorry,” I said, the conflicting emotions from today finally settling. Mom had that effect. Just venting to her always made things better. “Did I break your stride?” I glanced to where her office door was opened.

“No, honey.” She waved me off. “I’ve already hit my word count for the day.” She grinned. “I was just online, researching this new toy called the Smile Maker.” She pointed her fingers about a foot apart. “It’s supposed to—”

“Oh, God, Mom, no.” I clenched my eyes shut as if that would make me temporarily deaf.

“What?” She laughed, and I peeked my eyes open. “I thought maybe you could run a blog on it. I bet Principal Tanner would think the video prank was tame compared to a full write-up about the Smile Maker!”

I burst out laughing. “Truth,” I said between gasps of breath. I could just picture Tanner’s face if I did a public blog about that. “But anything looks tame when you put it next to your work, Mom.” Having an erotica author for a mom had that tendency.

She chuckled and walked behind the bar to wrap her arms around me. I hugged her back, shaking my head. “I do wish I could help Hannah,” I said, my thoughts returning to our conversation this morning.

“Oh, honey, I don’t think she needs a Smile Maker. She seems pretty content with Jake.”

“Ew, gross, Mom. No.” I shuddered. “I meant with all the other stuff. The advice and…I don’t know.”

“I know, Amber,” she said, patting my back before she let me go. She looked me in the eye. Waiting.

“It’s not just birth control info they hide,” I said. “It’s everything. Anything to do with sex.” I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking about that ridiculous presentation today. “It’s archaic. Hulk Smash. Sex bad.”

Mom brushed back the feathered ends of my hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do about that…” A light clicked behind her eyes. “Should I write the school? Tell them their education on the subject is outdated? I could send a few signed books as a bribe? Or maybe to show them that what you all want to know is…what was the word you used? Tame?”

“No, Mom,” I said, laughing. “I heard a rumor that the board is already trying to move the school in a different direction.”

“Oh really?” She grinned. “Seems I need to give Hannah’s mom a call and get the scoop.” She sighed. “But you know you can always ask me if you’re ever curious about something.”

I nodded. We’d always had an open-door policy. I was free to ask questions without judgment. Dad was a youth psychologist, so he was beyond chill whenever I came to them with anything. Not that I usually hit them with anything too crazy.

Like what happened with Brandon. Mom knew most of the details. She’d been there to help me through it, help me understand that I wasn’t in the wrong.

“Hannah, too,” Mom said, thankfully yanking me away from the past. She reached for the Nutella, grabbed her own spoon, and took a bite. “I know Connie can be a little…I don’t want to say uptight, since I like her so much but…” She chuckled. “My knowledge is Hannah’s knowledge.”

I pressed my lips together. That wasn’t a half-bad idea. Hannah loved my mom, but then again, it might be embarrassing. And not everyone had a mom like mine—willing and able to offer healthy advice on sex. And, sure, Google had information, but there was a huge difference between reading an article or watching a video created by a total stranger and gathering advice from someone you trusted. Someone who could understand you more than any clinical website or school lecture ever could.

Mom set the Nutella down. “Anything,” she said again. “The pill. Flavored condoms vs. regular—”

“Mom!” I groaned, raising my hands in defense. I chuckled. “Let me come to you.” I walked past her, heading toward my room.

“Amber,” she said through her laughter.

I stopped halfway to my room. “Yeah?” I asked timidly, terrified of another mention of the Smile Maker or flavored condoms.

She stopped before me, her hands on my shoulders. “Jokes aside,” she said. “You know you can always ask me anything, right?”

“I know, Mom. And I love you for it.” I patted the hand that held my shoulder.

She was the best mom ever, but she wasn’t in high school. And that’s who people like Hannah needed.

Someone in the same situation.

Someone she could trust who wasn’t an adult.

Someone who wouldn’t judge…who would get it.

An idea burst in my mind like a bright flash of lightning.

“Uh-oh,” Mom said. “What’s happening up there?” She pointed to my forehead, and I blinked a few times, her earlier words echoing in my head.

“I’ve got to make a call,” I said, still more in my head than with her. I reached into my back pocket for my cell and headed to my room. “Thanks, Mom!” I called over my shoulder as I shut the door.

I leaned my back against it, staring down at the number I’d never used for anything other than tech support.

A slow smile shaped my lips.

It’s crazy.

But it just might work.

I pushed call, my fingers shaking as I held the cell to my ear.

“You know we’ve only been apart a couple of hours, Pixie,” Dean answered, his smooth voice heating my skin. “You can’t be ready to forfeit the challenge already.”

“Hell no,” I said, praying I didn’t sound as nervous as I was. “I need to pose a hypothetical question.”

“Intrigued. What’s up?”

“If I was searching for a site but couldn’t trace it, where would you think it was?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t connect the dots on my plan.

“Are you asking me for advice on how you plan to beat me?”

“Maybe,” I said, grinning. “You never said that was against the rules.”

“Clever, Pixie.”

“Sometimes,” I said, mimicking our earlier conversation. “Now, thoughts?”

“Okay…” He dragged out the word as if he were calculating it in his head. “If it were me,” he said, “and I was searching for something but struggling…I’d probably hit up Tor or a similar place. That’s where things are usually buried.”

“Perfect!” I’d thought about using Tor—one of the dark webs—to carry out my plan, too, but I needed to be absolutely certain. I’d never messed around there much, so I had to make sure there weren’t other options. Normally I’d avoid it, but this wasn’t a normal challenge.

“But,” he added, “nothing is completely dark. If someone digs deep and hard enough, there is always a trace.”

A risk, but I doubted my idea would stir up enough interest to result in someone actually hunting for the source. No, it’d be just enough to act like a thorn in Tanner’s side. A piece of reality to counter his fantasyland perfect-boasting website. And, hopefully, a safe space for my classmates at Wilmont.

“Amber?” Dean said my name, and I snapped out of my thoughts.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay. I get it. Just don’t think too hard on it, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said, a laugh in his tone. “I’m not prepared to lose to you.”

I grinned, biting on my lower lip. “Well, you better get prepared because you’re going down.”

“Not a chance.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

The response made my stomach flip, and I quickly hung up the phone. What was wrong with me? I’d sworn off boys after Brandon. Not that Dean was Brandon, but what did I really know? I thought I’d known the type of guy Brandon was, and that all changed in the course of one night.

The butterflies in my stomach took a nosedive into a crashing wave of acid, and I huffed out a breath.

Damn him. I wished I could delete him from my mind. Erase every date, every hour I spent with him. It didn’t matter that we’d had fun in most of those memories—the worst one was enough to taint them all.

Hands everywhere, greedy lips, demands.

No.

I wasn’t going there again.

I had work to do.

Work was always the best distraction, and this would be the biggest challenge to date for my hacker career. I needed 100 percent focus.

I rolled my neck, grabbed my headphones, and sank in front of my computer.

First, I had to write up a rough draft.

Second, I had to take a swim in the deep end of the dark web, and make sure an average person—i.e., Principal Tanner—couldn’t find it. No cracks. No way to trace this back to me.

And third?

I had to stop thinking about how good Dean would look in a deadmau5 shirt if he beat me.

…

Four hours, two Red Bulls, a few pieces of code, and three drafts later, the site I’d built from scratch was one button push away from going live on Tor. All I’d need to do was make sure the right person at Wilmont found the secret link and hope they deemed it interesting enough to spread the word. That, plus the giveaway I’d listed, should help gain some traffic.

I leaned back in my seat, rubbing my ears where my headphones had made them overly hot.

“Well, here goes nothing,” I said, staring at the grueling work I’d just done.

If it worked, I’d win.

If it didn’t, but I could at least help one person, then every risk would be worth it.

Because I knew what it was like to have something happen…something out of your control and feel completely alone afterward. Yes, I’d been lucky enough to have my mom and Hannah to help me through it, but they didn’t understand the nightmares. The flashbacks. The fear that jolted me every single time I saw Brandon in the halls. That was something only another person who’d experienced something similar could truly relate to. And I never wanted anyone to feel that alone. Not if I could help it.

And if I got caught?

Ice froze the adrenaline in my veins.

I’d probably be expelled, which would then result in a rejection letter from MIT in March instead of an acceptance letter.

I won’t get caught.

I’d taken too many precautions.

I was too smart to get caught.

Repeating that internally about a dozen times, I reached for my keyboard…

And clicked.