by Melissa Grey
“You know,” he said, “I used to joke that when the e-sports money ran dry, I could have a lucrative career in cybercrime.”
The e-sports money was good at the moment. The headsets were on their third production run. His rating had just cracked 90. But the cybercrimes were shaping up to be more fun.
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” Noah said. “Look at you, multitasking like a champ.”
Javi smiled up at Noah, who smiled down at him.
“Yup,” Tamsin said. “Definitely a third wheel. I can go outside and hang out with your siblings if you guys want a moment to canoodle. I’m pretty sure there’s enough of them for me to start my own softball league.”
“Ha, ha. But I respect your use of the word ‘canoodle’ in a sentence.” Javi inched his chair closer to Noah so his shoulder was brushing against Noah’s stomach. He liked the contact. It helped him focus. A few more firewalls to bypass and then, “We’re in.”
“Seriously?” Tamsin asked. She unfolded her legs and came to stand at Javi’s other side. “That quickly?”
Javi offered her an insouciant shrug. “Their security is good, but I’m better.”
“Awesome,” Noah said. “Now all we need is Summer’s necklace and—”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Javi sprang from his desk chair to intercept whoever it was before his siblings could pepper the poor soul(s) with inappropriate questions. He managed to make it downstairs before anyone else got to the door. He flung it open to find Bex, Chase, and Hana standing on his stoop.
“Hey, guys.” He held open the door to let them in. “Welcome to mi casa.”
His grandmother shuffled her slippered feet into the room to see who was visiting so late at night. She was wrapped in a quilted housecoat.
“Mijo, what are all these people doing here? It’s so late.”
“Study group, Abuela. Big test coming up.” He began shepherding them up the stairs and toward his room.
His grandmother was not appeased by his answer. “Pero es viernes.”
“Yeah, it’s Friday, but the test is on Monday. No such thing as too much studying.”
She hummed unhappily in the back of her throat but seemed to accept the answer. “You can’t study on an empty stomach. Let me get you something to eat.”
“No, Abuela, it’s okay,” Javi started, but she was already on her way to the kitchen.
“Your grandma is super cute,” Hana said.
“And honestly,” said Chase, “I could eat.”
“Fine, fine,” Javi said. “Go upstairs. I’ll bring snacks. Noah and Tamsin are in my room. Last door on the left.”
Javi followed his grandmother into the kitchen. The microwave was spinning as she warmed up a plate of tostones. She made them in batches too huge even for a family of their size.
“You’ve never had so many friends over at once,” she commented as they waited for the microwave to ding.
Javi wasn’t sure if they were all friends, or if they were all just a bunch of individuals thrown together by circumstance. Or if there was a difference between the two.
“Yeah,” Javi said. “It’s nice. They’re actually pretty cool.”
“I’m happy.” The microwave beeped as the timer hit zero. She turned to take the plate out. “You spend too much time on that computer. You should talk to people more, face-to-face.”
“Yeah, I know.” It was an old topic of conversation. His grandmother had never been able to comprehend that most of Javi’s meaningful relationships were conducted over the internet. He was friendly with people from school, but being friendly wasn’t quite the same as being friends. But tonight he was just glad that the novelty of living, breathing humans in their house, by Javi’s invitation, was enough for her to overlook the oddity of their eleven o’clock study group. “Thanks, Abuela. Now go back to bed. You work too hard.”
She patted his cheek. “You’re a good boy, mijo.”
He accepted the heaping plate of tostones and gently coaxed her out of the doorway but not before he caught sight of the delighted little smile gracing her face. Nothing made her happier than extra mouths to feed. Nothing.
The others fell on his grandmother’s tostones like ravenous beasts once he presented them with the plate. All except Hana. Tamsin offered her one, but she politely demurred.
Tamsin frowned. “Please?”
Javi watched as Hana hesitated, then reluctantly took a tostón. She broke it in half and took a dainty bite before setting the other half back down. Tamsin looked inordinately pleased by this.
There was something going on there, but it was probably not Javi’s business.
“Holy crap,” Chase said, his mouth full. “These are amazing. Can your grandma adopt me?”
“I’m sure she’d love to. She’s never had an athletic appetite to feed. She’d live for the challenge.”
“Nice.” Chase helped himself to another tostón. “I’ll have my people draw up the paperwork.”
“Here’s Summer’s device.” Bex offered Javi the necklace by its long golden chain. The actual device looked like a locket with the Rawlins family crest emblazoned on the front. Javi was deeply amused that they had a crest at all. He pressed the clasp on the side to open it. Summer’s rating blinked into existence on the display.
81.
“Not for long,” Javi said with a dark chuckle.
“Your evil laugh is unsettling,” Noah said as he perched on the arm of Javi’s desk chair. “But I kind of like it.”
“Good, because honestly, it feels really natural. I think a life of crime suits me.” Javi set the pendant on his desk and adjusted his lamp to shine directly on it. It would take very fine, delicate tools and steady hands to remove the back paneling and access the tiny chip inside. No one’s hands were steadier than Javi’s. He ranked in the top 5 percent on headshots from a distance in Polaris, after all.
The others ate and paid only vague attention to what Javi was doing. He didn’t mind. He had Noah there to help him if he needed it. And it was kind of nice to not be alone in his room, playing video games in the dark. Not that he’d ever admit that to his abuela. She’d be unbearably smug about it.
“Tamsin,” Javi said. “I need your smartwatch.”
She slipped it off and tossed it to Noah, who caught it before it could smack Javi on the side of the head. “Sorry,” she said. “What do you need it for?”
“You’ll see.”
With both chips out of their casings and inserted into the not entirely legal microchip reader he’d purchased from a not entirely legal website that may or may not have existed on the dark web, he got to work.
“What are you doing?” Noah asked. His breath ghosted over the shell of Javi’s ear. It tickled a bit, but in a good way.
“Tweaking the algorithm,” Javi said as his hands flew over his keyboard. He was in the zone. Nothing could stop him when he was in the zone.
“Okay, cool,” Noah said. After a beat he added, “What does that mean?”
Nothing could stop him save for the opportunity to explain his brilliance to a willing audience. “I’m altering the settings of Summer’s rating interface. Whenever someone tries to dock Tamsin’s rating, it’ll bypass her and add a positive rating to Summer’s numerical score.”
“Wait what?” Tamsin fixed Javi with a glare that could have seared the skin off a weaker man. “Why are we boosting her rating?”
Javi smiled, slow and languid. “Tell ’em, Noah.”
“Because,” Noah said, “nothing gets you on the administration’s radar faster than a sudden and inexplicable surge in your number. Accounts that show a wild uptick in positive activity are automatically flagged for review.”
“And,” Javi added, “since I’m such a genius—”
“And modest, too,” Noah said.
“—I left a few breadcrumbs for the authorities to find when they investigate Summer Rawlins.”
“What kind of breadcrumbs?” Bex asked.
&
nbsp; “Enough to make it look like she hacked the system herself.” Javi relished the way Noah grinned at him, proud and devious. “When they dive into her base code, they’ll see that alterations were made using her own device. All roads lead back to Summer.”
“Where does that leave me?” Tamsin asked.
“That leaves you the poor unfortunate victim of Summer’s cruelty. She deliberately tried to sabotage your rating by orchestrating a pile-on, and these markers will make it look like she tried to boost her own at the same time. Sloppily. Your account will also get flagged for review. They’ll reset your rating to what it was before this tragic, precipitous drop. I bet those kids who hopped on Summer’s mean-girl bandwagon will also find their own ratings docked.”
Tamsin let out a low, impressed whistle. “Dude. You’re good. Like, crazy good.”
Javi preened. “I know. Now eat up and pull out some books or something before my grandma realizes we’re not actually studying.”
On Monday, Tamsin walked out of Headmaster Wood’s office trying to fight the too-wide grin that desperately wanted to blossom on her face.
Summer Rawlins had been suspended. She was currently being investigated for ratings malfeasance, both her own and Tamsin’s. Maplethorpe had a zero-tolerance policy for such behavior, Headmaster Wood had insisted. They would closely monitor Summer’s activity as well as her circle of friends (minions, Tamsin’s brain supplied) to make sure there were no further incidents. He had relayed the information to Tamsin in a tone dripping with apology. He probably wanted to make sure she didn’t raise a stink about the school’s inaction when it was clear she was being targeted by Summer’s smear campaign. And she wouldn’t. The less attention she drew to herself and her new friends the better.
It was odd, thinking of them as friends, but nothing brought people together like a crime jointly committed. That was the sort of thing that expedited the friendship process.
It felt different, walking out to the school’s lawn during Rest Period and knowing there were people waiting for her at one of the wooden picnic tables she usually avoided. They were the homes of cliques and clubs, not loners like her. But she wasn’t alone now. It was different. Not bad different, but good different.
The message Tamsin had sent to the group chat before her meeting said to meet at the table by the old oak tree, the one farthest from the main building. All the better to avoid being overheard by curious students and nosy faculty. She knew the others would be dying for an update.
When she reached the table, Hana scooted over to let Tamsin sit beside her. There was a salad of mixed greens and tomatoes in a bento box in front of Hana, and it looked like she was actually eating it. It wasn’t much, but maybe it was a start.
“What did Wood say?” Bex asked.
It did not escape Tamsin’s notice that a too-large maroon Maplethorpe jacket was draped over Bex’s shoulders. Tamsin winked at Chase, who quirked an eyebrow at her, daring her to comment. She didn’t. Already she was growing as a person!
Noah and Javi sat side by side, sharing an order of fries from the cafeteria. Javi had mentioned that the lunch lady always put some aside for him in case he missed the fourth-period rush.
Lucky.
“Summer got suspended,” Tamsin said. “And they reset my rating.” She held up her wrist so the others could see her new number, which was really her old number. “Still sucks, but it’s not expulsion level of suck.”
“So, what do we do now?” Chase asked. “Do we stop here or …”
“Or do we find other sad sacks like me to help?” Tamsin ventured.
“You’re not a sad sack,” Hana said. She popped a cherry tomato in her mouth and offered one to Tamsin. She accepted it. It exploded on her tongue in a burst of flavor.
“That’s kind of you to say.” Tamsin only half meant it. She was still trying to accept the fact that these people she hardly knew put themselves on the line for her. They didn’t even know her. Maybe if they did, they wouldn’t want to help her. She wasn’t a nice person. She’d never tried to be one. But maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as bad as she thought she was.
“A friend of mine said there was similar graffiti at her university in London,” Javi said. “About the ratings not being real. This could be way bigger than Maplethorpe.”
“London?” Tamsin asked. “As in England?”
“Like an ocean away?” Bex’s voice was tinged with the same budding excitement she’d shown on that fateful night at Lucky’s, when an unseen force had thrown them all together.
“That would be the one, yeah,” Javi said. “Could be something to follow up on.”
“Guess we have our next mission,” Noah said. “After my sister.”
“So, are we like a team now?” Hana asked. “Is this what we do?”
“Crime-fighting cyber vigilantes,” Chase said. “Wicked.”
“Are we fighting crime, or are we fighting something else entirely?” Noah asked.
Hana frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Noah said, “what we did was fight something that was technically legal, so it’s not a crime. But we all knew it was wrong.”
Bex nodded. “Like how tweaking the Magnolia hospital records to keep your sister there isn’t legal, but it is right.” She turned to Javi. “By the way, what do you need for that?”
“Access to a hospital computer terminal would be great. Can you get me in?” Javi asked.
“My mom did say there was an internship position available …”
“That could work,” Javi said. “All we need is a reason to be there without arousing too much suspicion.”
“Man, you guys are crafty,” Tamsin said. “Though I’m not surprised. I’d expect nothing less from the girl who convinced her parents to let her boyfriend move in.”
Chase barked out a laugh as he darted in to kiss Bex on the cheek. “That’s my girl. A criminal mastermind.”
Bex sank her teeth into her lower lip to quell her wicked grin. “It really wasn’t that hard. All I had to do was mention that Chase needed a place to stay and that doing something charitable for a member of the Maplethorpe community was in their best interest.”
“And it helped when Headmaster Wood told them the school’s board of trustees would make sure their ratings got a nice bump.”
“Did it bother your dad when you moved out?” Hana asked.
Chase shrugged. It didn’t escape Tamsin’s notice that he would close off at the mention of his father. From what she’d been able to glean, the elder Donovan was a real piece of work.
“Nope. He didn’t even put up a fight. Doubt he even notices I’m gone.”
Bex wrapped her hand around Chase’s and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Forget him,” Tamsin said. “You have a new family now. A crime family.”
Javi nudged Chase on the shoulder with his fist. It was too soft to be called a punch. “That’s right. And to think, we already have our next job lined up, all thanks to Bex’s cunning.”
“Does it worry anyone else how quickly we’ve taken to this?” Hana asked.
“Not really.”
“Nope.”
“Nah.”
“Do you want out?” Tamsin asked.
Hana shook her head. “No. I just … didn’t really see myself joining a high school cybercrime syndicate is all.”
Javi laughed as he dipped a fry into a small container of what looked like barbecue sauce. Gross. “That’s not an unreasonable expectation to have,” he said, “but isn’t it kind of fun?”
On this, they agreed. There was a sense of liberation in what they had done. No longer were they victims of circumstance or dehumanized numbers in a system. They had control. They had agency. They saw something wrong, and they did something about it.
It felt a lot better than misanthropy ever had. Not that Tamsin would admit that out loud. She had a reputation to maintain.
“Hey,” Hana said, “is that Summer?”
They all turned to see a girl storming out of the doors—the very same ones that had been spray-painted what felt like a lifetime ago—and stomp down the stairs. With a huff, she threw herself down on a stone bench near the front of the school and began furiously typing something on her phone. Texting her minions, most likely. Tamsin wondered how many of them would stick by her side now that she’d lost her crown. No one wanted to be associated with ratings malfeasance. If Summer wasn’t already persona non grata with her old court, she would be soon.
“I’ll be right back.” Tamsin pushed up and away from the table. “There’s something I gotta do first.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bex asked.
“Yeah,” Chase said. “Maybe don’t poke the bear.”
Tamsin snagged one of Noah and Javi’s fries. “I’m gonna poke the bear.”
“Tamsin, just leave it,” Hana said, but Tamsin was already walking toward the bench.
She saw the moment Summer recognized her as she drew closer. The girl’s posture changed from angry to defensive, like a wild animal bracing for attack. Her back straightened and her face hardened into a scowl. She scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. She’d been crying.
“What do you want?” Summer asked. “Come here to gloat?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tamsin said.
With a disbelieving snort, Summer reached into the pocket of her Maplethorpe blazer and produced a packet of bubble gum. She held Tamsin’s gaze as she drew a strip out of the package and popped it in her mouth. She chewed, loudly, then blew an obnoxiously large bubble. Its pop was even more obnoxious. Gum was banned on Maplethorpe’s campus, mainly to discourage students from sticking it under desks or spitting it on walkways. Students caught with such sugary contraband were subjected to an automatic one-point deduction.
“Gum?” Tamsin asked. “On school grounds? Scandalous.”