“True,” Sam agreed. “But if he’s telling the truth, it opens up motive for someone else.”
Chase raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Jenni?”
She nodded. “Connor says Jenni didn’t know about his plan to get back together with Sydney, but what if she found out-”
“And decided to take Sydney out of the picture?” I finished for her. It was certainly a possibility.
One I fully intended to explore when I saw Jenni at school tomorrow.
When I got home, Mom was, predictably, sitting in front of the computer. Only this time she wasn’t wearing the intent frown of someone trying to figure out a dating site. She was smiling. And giggling. And blushing.
I was scared.
“Hey, Mom,” I said tentatively.
Mom’s head whipped up and instant guilt spread across her cheeks in a bright pink stain.
Uh-oh.
“Hartley. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Whatcha doin’?” I asked, coming around the kitchen table to see her screen.
But before I could catch a glimpse of anything, she quickly closed the laptop.
“Nothing.”
“It looked like you were doing something.”
“Just typing.”
“Typing what?”
“You’re a nosy little one today, aren’t you?”
I put my hands on my hips, doing the best imitation I could of her stern face, the one she always pulled out when it was time to clean my room. “Mom…”
She grinned and threw her hands up in a mock surrender gesture. “Okay, fine. If you must know, Miss Nosy, I was IM’ing with someone.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Since when do you know how to IM?” I asked.
“Ha-ha. Very funny, Hart.”
“Okay, maybe a better question is who were you IM’ing with?” I asked.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she answered, “but a man.”
I knew I was going to regret this but…
“A man from Match dot com?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Oh God, please tell me it’s not Mr. Candlelit Dinners.”
“Hartley!” she said, swatting me. “There’s nothing wrong with a man being a romantic.”
“Right,” I said. “Long walks on the beach are totally cool. If your name is Fabio.”
Mom swatted me again. “It’s not him, okay? It’s… someone else.”
“Someone else, who? Can I see his profile?” I asked, reaching for her laptop lid.
But Mom quickly put her hand on top of it. “No.”
I raised an eyebrow her way.
“I mean… it’s private. This is a private conversation.”
“Ew. You’re not, like, sending dirty messages or anything, are you?”
Mom rolled her eyes at me. “We’re having a perfectly normal adult conversation.”
“‘Adult’ as in ‘R-rated’?”
“Hartley…” Mom warned.
My turn to put my hands up. “Okay, okay. I’m just trying to look out for you, you know. There are a lot of perverts online.”
She shot me a look. “He’s not a pervert. And besides, we’re just talking.”
“That’s how it starts…”
“Hartley!”
“I’m just saying, that’s all!”
“Look, don’t you have some homework to do?” Mom said, making a shooing motion with her hands.
“It’s Sunday.”
“Then don’t you have some friends to Facebook with?”
“I’m not sure ‘Facebook’ is a verb.”
“Hart…” That warning tone crept into her voice again.
I nodded. “Okay. Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when Mr. CyberLove starts sexting you!”
“Hartley!”
“I’m going,” I said, backing out of the kitchen. As I hit the stairs, I heard the distinct sound of the laptop opening and fingers clicking on the keyboard again.
Yep. I was definitely scared.
Chapter Eleven
I SPENT THE REST OF THE DAY DOING MORE STUDYING FOR our upcoming AG midterm, more theorizing that went nowhere, and typing up my story for Monday’s edition of the
I reluctantly emailed it to Chase just under the evening deadline, cringing as I waited for his reply.
It finally came in the form of a Facebook IM as I was tending my FarmVille plot that night, laptop on my legs while I lay back on my bed, digesting the last of Mom’s gluten-free corn spaghetti with texturized vegetable protein balls.
got ur article, it said.
I paused, ready to defend its contents.
u happy with it? he asked.
I bit my lip. But any defense I had fell flat on my own ears, so instead of faking it, I told the truth.
it was fluff.
*grin,* he typed back.
i’ll have something better soon. i swear!
i know.
Something about his confidence in me suddenly made the TVP balls in my stomach roll over one another. Especially since the faith was totally misplaced. Truth was, I had a lot of theories, but no real evidence that pointed to anyone as the Twittercidal maniac that had killed Sydney. And I was at a total dead end when it came to how Nicky had gotten those test answers, or if the two were even connected.
Which is why I was glad when Chase changed the subject.
hey… got plans 2morrow nite?
Okay, I was glad for about half a second. Then those TVP balls started moving again in nervous circles as I typed back, no. y?
meet me @ pizza my ‹3 4 dinner? 6?
For a full five seconds my entire body froze. My heart stopped, my lungs forgot how to breathe, and my fingers hovered stupidly over my keyboard. It sorta sounded like he was asking me out. But it had sorta sounded like that before with the football game. But this sounded more like it. Sorta.
u there?
yes, I typed back quickly.
yes ur there or yes 2 pizza?
I paused, my heart suddenly going from frozen to racing at a hundred miles a minute. And while I still wasn’t sure what this all meant, somehow I found my fingers typing back the word both.
Cool, Chase responded. c u then.
