TECHNOLOGY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND

“So let me see if I understand all this,” Taylor said later that evening, pacing back and forth in front of my closet. Outside my window at Pemberly the storm raged, thunder growling and lightning flashing. The rain pelted the windowpane, sometimes so loudly it drowned out our words. Every now and then the lights would flicker and I just prayed we wouldn’t be left in the dark. That was the last thing my nerves needed right now. “This Sabine girl totally screwed with your mind via e-mail and text, then Noelle and her grandmother totally screwed with your mind via e-mail and text—”

“Um, hello? Sitting right here?” Noelle said, raising her hand from my desk chair like she was going to ask a question in class.

Taylor shot her a look that said “Let me finish.” Wow. Things had really changed.

“And now this MT person is screwing with you via text?” she finished.

“That’s the deal, basically, yeah,” I replied, leaning back into my pillows, which were propped up against the wall at the head of my bed.

I’d changed into my favorite Penn State sweatshirt and Easton soccer shorts upon returning to the dorm, and had just finished giving my statement about tonight’s incident to Detective Hauer, who had left with a promise to run the partial plate against the car’s make as soon as he got back to the Easton PD. While part of me would have loved to pass out and put this night behind me, I was far too wired to sleep, which was why everyone was here, keeping me company. Kiran leaned back against the door and Ivy sat at the foot of my bed, her back against the wall and her feet dangling over the edge of the mattress.

“Reed, I think you know what you need to do,” Taylor said seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. “You need to give up on technology.”

I snorted a laugh.

“She’s right,” Kiran put in, inspecting her fingernails. “Technology is not your friend.” Her eyes lit up and she pushed herself away from the wall. “Maybe you should move to, like, the African jungle or something. Become one of those women who lives off the land and studies the apes or something. Go completely off the grid.”

A bolt of lightning flashed so brilliantly I nearly jumped out of my skin. Taylor smirked and walked over to my dresser, piling her hair atop her head and checking out the effect in the mirror. While Ivy, Noelle, and I had gone casual, she and Kiran were still sporting their cocktail dresses, having come right back here with us instead of stopping by their rooms at the Driscoll.

“Yes, Kiran. That is so what I want to do with my life,” I said sarcastically as the thunder clapped just outside. “Why didn’t I think of that before?”

“Besides, we already decided. No running and hiding,” Ivy reminded me.

“So if we’re not gonna run and hide, I say we go on offense,” Noelle said, leaning forward in the chair. “Find out who this MT person is already and grill them about what they actually know until they snap.”

“But there’s no way to find out,” I told her, supporting my cast with my other hand. “Every time we try to text them it bumps back to me as unsent.”

“Oh, please. They’re probably just blocking you,” Taylor said, letting her hair tumble down around her shoulders again. “Any good hacker can get around that.”

I looked at Ivy and she sat up straight, pushing away from the wall. “Any good hacker?” I said. “Aren’t you a good hacker?”

“How?” Ivy asked Taylor. “We tried texting and calling from my phone—”

“And mine,” Noelle said.

“But they came back too.”

“You just have to set up a program to run the numbers,” Taylor said, lifting a palm as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “There’s no way this person blocked every sequence. We find the right sequence, reprogram one of our phones, and we’re in.”

Ivy’s jaw snapped shut and she brought her hand to her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She shoved herself off the bed and grabbed her phone from on top of my dresser. “We’ll start with the most obscure area codes first.”

“Good call,” Taylor said.

Ivy started typing into her phone as Taylor leaned over her shoulder. Before long the two of them were whispering and pointing, debating and correcting. I glanced at Kiran and she shrugged in response.

“Got any good magazines?” she asked, dropping down next to me on my bed. “This could be a while.”

“Please. She gets Shape and Fitness and nothing else,” Noelle said, rising from her chair. “I’ll be right back.”

An hour later Kiran, Noelle, and I were noshing on Godiva and pawing through the latest issues of Vogue, InStyle, and W, while Ivy and Taylor sat on the floor bent over Ivy’s phone. It wasn’t exactly the party we had originally planned for the evening, but it was darn close, and they were all there with me, which was the best gift I could have asked for. The thunderstorm had passed and the rain had let up a bit, dulling itself to a persistent drizzle, the sound of which was far more comforting than the raging we’d endured earlier. Suddenly Ivy leaned back on her hands, a self-satisfied smile on her face.

“And . . . done!” she announced.

“Done?” I asked dropping the heavy Vogue issue aside. “You got through?”

“Yep,” Taylor said happily.

“Finally,” Kiran groused.

“What did you say?” I asked, getting up from the bed and wiping my palms on the back of my sweatpants.

“We wrote, ‘Enough with the mystery. I want to know what’s going on. We need to meet,’” Taylor replied.

“To the point,” Noelle conceded, tipping her head.

“Do you think he’ll write back?” Kiran asked, sipping bottled water through a straw.

I sighed. “We’ll just have to wait and—”

Ivy’s phone beeped. My heart dropped. We all froze.

“Is it MT?” I asked.

Ivy hit a button and nodded, as Taylor leaned in so close her hair fell over Ivy’s shoulder. “It says, ‘Come alone. One hour. Directions attached.’”

“Holy crap,” I said, a rush of excitement flooding my veins. “It worked.”

“Come alone. Yeah. Like that’s gonna happen,” Noelle said, lifting her thick hair over her shoulder.

“We’re going with her?” Kiran asked, a tad fretful.

“Of course we are,” Ivy snapped.

“Don’t worry, Kiran. MT has proven he . . . or she . . . is a friend,” I assured her.

“Then why does he want you to come alone?” Taylor asked. “What’s with the blocking the number and all the mystery?”

“Well, clearly he’s trying to protect himself,” Ivy replied. “Whoever’s after Reed means business if they’re going to try to kidnap her from a crowded event.”

Kiran bit her lip. “Yeah, but—”

“All right, enough,” Noelle snapped. “We’re all doing this together. There’s safety in numbers right? If we all go together, everything will be fine.”

The five of us looked around at one another and I felt this odd mixture of fear and hope. By the end of tonight, I might know who MT was, and I might even know everything he or she knew about this latest attack. But I also knew that ventures like this one didn’t always end up the way I expected. And sometimes they didn’t end well at all.