The Blurred Blogger

by Victor Appleton

  Amy’s hands shot up to her mouth. “That means the prankster is on video when he turns on the camera.”

  Noah pointed at Amy with both hands. “And there it is!”

  Amy was as excited as Noah now. “All he would have to do is edit himself out of the footage before cutting the final video together.”

  Noah shook his head. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. All we need to do is get one of the cameras and read the memory card, and we’ll have ironclad proof of who the prankster is.”

  I shot to my feet. “I have to get one of those cameras.”

  “I’ll come with,” Noah said as he grabbed his tray.

  Sam stood and peered around the cafeteria. “Wait a minute. Where’s Andrew?”

  The rest of us followed her gaze. I didn’t spot him anywhere.

  “Well, if you see him, stall him,” Noah instructed.

  “Stall him?” Sam asked. “How?”

  Noah shrugged. “I don’t know. Scare him some more about how you’re going to get him back for framing you.”

  Sam smiled. “Oh, yeah. That’s been fun.”

  Noah and I dumped our trays and headed for the door at a brisk pace, trying not to look too conspicuous. Once we’d made it through the doorway, we broke into a run. Luckily, the chemistry lab was just a couple doors away. Not so luckily, as we got closer, I could already see that the camera in the hallway had vanished.

  I pointed up at the spot where it had been earlier. “That one’s gone already.”

  “Aw, man,” Noah said. “But maybe that was just the easiest one to grab.”

  I led the way, pushing open the classroom door. My eyes immediately scanned the wall above the windows. That camera was gone too.

  “Can I help you gentlemen?” someone asked.

  Noah and I both jumped, startled to see that Mr. Osborne was sitting as his desk. He had a lunch tray on his left and a stack of papers on his right.

  Noah put a hand on my shoulder. “Tom here lost his favorite pen. Maybe he left it in here?”

  “Uh, yeah” was all I could get out.

  “He’s always talking about it,” Noah continued.

  Mr. Osborne gave a dismissive wave as he returned his attention to the stack of papers. “Sure. Go ahead and have a look.”

  Noah followed me as I moved to my worktable, both of us crouching down, making a big show of searching for this imaginary pen. As I pretended to scan the floor, I glanced up at the opposite wall. My shoulders dropped when I saw that the two cameras that had been there earlier were nowhere in sight. I nudged Noah and nodded up at the wall. He shook his head, disappointed.

  Noah stood. “You must’ve left it in the computer lab.”

  “Uh, right. That’s probably it,” I agreed, trying to sound convincing. We headed for the door. “Thanks, Mr. Osborne.”

  “No problem,” he said. “With all the excitement in class today, you weren’t the only student to run off and leave things behind.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked. “Someone else lost something?”

  Mr. Osborne didn’t look up from the papers. “Yes,” he replied. “Andrew Foger was in here when I got back with my lunch.”

  14 The Articulation Revelation

  “PER YOUR PRINCIPAL’S REQUEST, I’VE had some of my people look into this blogger’s identity and his website,” my dad said as he loaded the dishwasher. “Trouble is, his videos seem to upload from different servers all over the world. Very slick masking setup.”

  I rinsed off the last dish. “Is that something a student could pull off?” Even though Andrew had hacked our robot, I didn’t know if he had the skills to mask his server.

  “Oh, sure,” my dad replied. “Even if someone doesn’t have the know-how, there’s plenty of software out there that can help.”

  Andrew did have the funds to buy his way into being a master hacker, that was for sure.

  “This latest prank might give us a legal in,” my dad explained. I had already told him about what had happened in chemistry class. “Even though sulfur hexafluoride is an inert gas, trapping a bunch of students in a classroom just might get a judge to agree to signing an injunction. I have some of my legal team working on that too.”

  “Cool,” I said as I dried my hands.

  It felt good having my dad’s people working on uncovering the prankster. I hadn’t told him about Noah’s and my failed attempt to get one of the cameras and unmask the blogger that way. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it had only ended up making Andrew look guiltier. And it had been my dad who gave me the big speech about second chances and everything.

  “How are things going with Andrew?” he asked, as if reading my mind.

  I jumped. “What? Oh, okay, I guess.”

  My father raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Davenport told me about the rumors going around that Andrew is the prankster.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, I had heard that too.” I left out that my friends believed the rumor and that I was shifting toward their view of things again.

  My dad leaned against the counter. “What do you think?”

  I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know. It’s kind of his style and everything.”

  “Did you ask him about it?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. He denied it.”

  My father shrugged. “Well, there you go. Maybe he’s telling the truth.”

  “I guess so.”

  I thought about mentioning all the evidence against Andrew over the past few days: his hacking of Raider, trying to frame Sam, him showing up in chemistry during lunch. But with my dad putting in a good word for Andrew in the first place, I didn’t want to accuse him unless we had absolute proof. The trouble was, how would we get it?

  When Dad and I were finished in the kitchen, I went upstairs to my bedroom and dug into my homework. I had a particularly heavy load that night and it felt good to get my mind off the pranks for a while. That lasted for a good hour, but just as I was finishing up, it was my turn to be invited to a four-way video chat. I accepted the request and my screen was once again filled with the faces of my three friends.

  “Dude, did you see the new video?” Noah asked.

  I shook my head. “I’ve been taking a break from the whole thing. Is it the chemistry gas attack?”

  “Just watch it, Swift,” Sam said through tight lips. “We’ll wait.”

  I minimized the chat screens and pulled up the blogger’s website. A new video entitled “The Dark Side” was at the top of the list.

  The scene opened the same as usual: The blogger sat in front of another animated background, except this time, a cartoon image of Darth Vader’s helmet floated behind him. I noted that the poster corner at the top right of the screen had been put back up.

  “All right, gang,” the blogger began in the same creepy voice. “Check out what happens when an entire classroom full of the not-so-swift students goes through puberty all at once.”

  I shook my head as the scene changed to the interior of the classroom. The camera angle shifted among all three cameras as everyone’s voices deepened. Then, as everyone panicked and raced for the door, the video cut to the hallway as a bunch of students shoved against the plastic covering the doorway. If I hadn’t been there, it might’ve been funny seeing Kyle Swan’s nose pressed to one side as his face pushed against the transparent barrier.

  I minimized the web page and brought my friends’ faces to the foreground. “Okay, I saw the video. I was there, remember?”

  Noah laughed. “I told you he wouldn’t see it.”

  “See what?” I asked.

  “It’s very hard to catch,” Amy admitted.

  “Catch what?”

  “Ah, come on.” Noah pointed at his screen. “I spotted it right away.”

  Sam was silent, just shaking her head.

  “Come on, guys,” I pleaded. “What am I missing?”

  Noah leaned closer. “Okay, go back to the beginning. It’s right around where the blo
gger says ‘classroom.’ ”

  I kept my friends’ windows open as I rewound the video near the beginning.

  “… check out what happens when an entire classroom full of the not-so-swift students—”

  I paused the video. Just as Noah had predicted, near the word “classroom,” something flashed onto the blogger’s face.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “You have to go frame by frame,” Amy instructed. “It only happens for a single frame, about eight seconds in.”

  I rewound the clip to six seconds and began advancing the video frame by frame, tapping on my keyboard as the blogger moved in jerky motions. Then, when the timeline hit eight seconds, I saw it: The constant blur that had covered the blogger’s face from the very beginning suddenly vanished, and the blogger’s real face was revealed.

  It was Sam.

  I leaned in toward my screen. “What?!”

  “He did it again,” Sam said.

  Noah rolled his eyes. “Can you believe this guy?”

  “How?” I asked.

  “He must’ve grabbed a frame from one of Sam’s videos,” Amy explained. “And then put her face over his.”

  I had heard of software that could digitally take people’s faces, put them in videos, and then have them say anything. But I’m guessing it would be way easier to just drop in a single frame over an existing video.

  Sam looked like she was going to pop. “This guy’s gone way too far this time.”

  “It’s just a single frame,” I said. “Do you think anyone will notice?”

  “Dude, I noticed,” Noah said. “And I wasn’t even looking.”

  Sam leaned closer, looming in her video frame. “We have to take Andrew Foger down.”

  “My dad is working on it.” I shared what my dad had said about his people uncovering the blogger’s identity.

  Sam shook her head. “Not fast enough, Swift. We need to find one of those cameras tomorrow and get hard evidence.”

  “The trouble is, if you spot a camera, that means you’re next in line for a prank,” I explained.

  “Tom, you could follow Andrew,” Noah suggested. “See if you can catch him in the act. He’s in all your classes, so it won’t look suspicious.”

  “What if he’s already set up the next one?” Amy asked. “He hangs out after school a lot.”

  Sam nodded. “Even better. Then we search the school tomorrow for cameras.”

  I sighed. “All right, I will. But right now, I have to go. I still haven’t finished my homework.”

  “Aw, man. You’re not done yet?” Noah asked with a grin before he logged out.

  “Bye, Tom,” said Amy waving just before her window vanished.

  Sam reached for her keyboard. “We’re counting on you tomorrow.” Her window disappeared too.

  I returned my attention to my homework, but it was difficult to concentrate. I felt anxious about trailing Andrew all day tomorrow. I knew it was necessary and it would be great to catch him in the act. I just hoped I could pull it off without getting caught.

  A few minutes later, I glanced up at my computer screen and noticed the prank video was still frozen there. I was about to close it, but then stopped. Was there something I’d missed (besides Sam’s face, anyway) that would help point to Andrew as the culprit? He’d seemed just as surprised by the chemistry classroom prank as I was. But would the video show something more? I hit play.

  The blurred blogger finished the intro and the scene cut to the classroom, as before. Again, Mr. Osborne was the first to have his voice deepen. Then, one by one, students spoke in lower voices. It wasn’t long before everyone sounded like the blurred blogger.

  I paused the video.

  Something nagged at the back of my mind—something about the way we all sounded and how similar it was to the blogger. I’m sure when he made each video, he didn’t breathe sulfur hexafluoride to disguise his voice. There were tons of voice modulators out there that did the job digitally. Yet I couldn’t help feeling that the detail wasn’t just a coincidence.

  I restarted the video.

  “All right, gang,” the blogger began again. “Check out what happens when an entire classroom full of the not-so-swift students—”

  I paused the video.

  There was something there, staring me in the face, and it wasn’t Sam’s. Something about the blogger’s voice.

  I restarted the video.

  “All right, gang,” the blogger repeated. “Check out what happens when an entire classroom full of—”

  I restarted the video.

  “All right, gang—”

  I restarted the clip again and again.

  “All right, gang… All right, gang… All right, gang…”

  I stopped the video and leaned back in my chair. I held my breath as a chill went down my spine.

  I knew exactly who the blogger was.

  15 The Implication Confirmation

  “MR. OSBORNE?!”

  “Shh!” I glared at Noah, then glanced around our algebra classroom to make sure no one had overheard him.

  His mouth fell open and he shook his head. “Mr. Osborne? Really?” This time he whispered, thankfully.

  “I’ll tell you how I know.”

  “How you know what?” Sam asked as she and Amy took their seats.

  Amy glanced back at Andrew’s empty desk. “Do you know where Andrew is right now?”

  I shook my head. “No, and it doesn’t matter because he’s not the prankster.”

  Sam eyed me suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

  Noah crossed his arms. “Oh, you’re going to love this.”

  I glanced around and moved closer to Sam and Amy. They leaned in.

  “He thinks it’s Mr. Osborne,” Noah blurted out. “I’m sorry, man, I couldn’t keep that kind of intel in.”

  “What?” Sam asked.

  Amy gave a thoughtful look. “It was his voice, wasn’t it? I remember thinking how his altered voice sounded like the blogger’s. But then all of our voices sounded like that.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not it. Well… that’s what made me look closer.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “That’s kinda weak, Swift.”

  “Okay, look…” I glanced around again. The class was filling up, but Andrew hadn’t arrived yet. “When all this started, I studied the videos, looking for any sign of Andrew’s speech patterns. And believe me, he has some annoying ones.”

  “Oh yeah,” Noah agreed.

  “Right? But I couldn’t find any,” I went on. “That’s what gave me doubt at first.” I grinned. “So I’m rewatching the video from last night and I catch one of Mr. Osborne’s speech patterns.”

  “Which one?” Noah asked.

  “You know how every teacher has a different thing they call the class as a group?” I began counting them off on my fingers. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, just plain ‘class’…”

  “Mr. Jenkins’s ‘sports fans,’ ” Noah added, shaking his head. “For whatever reason.”

  “Right!” I grinned. “Mr. Osborne always calls us ‘gang.’ ‘Okay, gang.’ ‘Listen up, gang.’ ”

  “And that’s how the blogger began last night’s video,” Amy chimed in.

  “Exactly!” I said.

  Sam shook her head. “That’s still weak. One word and he’s your prime suspect now?”

  “And why would he prank himself?” Noah added.

  “You’re the one who said the same thing about Andrew,” I replied, pointing at my best friend. “How making it appear like he was the target of the prank would take some of the suspicion off himself.”

  Noah cringed. “Oh, yeah. I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “Mr. Osborne has access to the gas and chemicals,” I explained. “My dad says he’s super smart, so he could easily build the rats, and the timers for the sound chips.”

  “So could most of the kids in this school,” Amy pointed out.

  Sam shrugged. “I don
’t know. I say we stick to the original plan. We’ll look for cameras. You follow—” She glanced away just as Andrew entered the classroom, then turned back to me. “You know.”

  “Hey, it’s not like you can follow Mr. Osborne around,” Noah whispered. “He’ll be in his class most of the day anyway.”

  “All right.” I sighed. “I’ll follow Andrew as planned.”

  I could tell there was no convincing my friends. I had laid out all my best evidence, and they still didn’t believe me. Maybe it was more difficult believing a teacher was behind the pranks. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time a teacher had been responsible for strange goings-on at the academy.

  I decided to follow Andrew, not to catch him in the act but to prove his innocence. If another prank went down today and I could prove Andrew had nothing to do with it, maybe my friends would take a closer look at Mr. Osborne.

  I glanced back at Andrew one more time. He was eyeing us suspiciously.

  * * *

  As my friends predicted, following Andrew wasn’t all that hard. It helped that he shared all my classes, and that our lockers were near each other. The only difficulty came when he went to the restroom. I hoped he wasn’t really the prankster setting up a bathroom prank, because I thought it would be too obvious if I followed him in there. I simply struck up conversations with other students at a place where I could keep an eye on the restroom door.

  Once we were in chemistry, I turned my attention to Mr. Osborne. He had to be the prankster; I was sure of it. Unfortunately, he didn’t do or say anything during his lecture to give himself away. There were no signs of cameras, and everything went like a normal class.

  I reported as much when I met my friends for lunch.

  Sam shook her head. “We haven’t noticed any cameras either.”

  “And there haven’t been any pranks yet today,” Noah added.

  “Do you think that last prank was it?” Amy asked.

  Sam grinned. “Andrew might be feeling the heat. I’ve had a bunch of people tell me how sorry they are that he’s pinning it on me again.”

  My friends had been right. Several people were talking about the single frame of Sam’s face in the last video. I guess a bunch of the academy students had keener eyes than me. If the clue was meant to point toward Sam, it had backfired. Everyone I talked to seemed convinced Andrew was the prankster now.