by Nancy N. Rue
“What’s going on?” she said.
“Simple.” Maggie jerked her head toward B.J. and Cassie, who were hissing to Julia and Anne-Stuart.
“They talked about you guys going out all first and second periods,” Willoughby said.
“But it isn’t true!” Sophie said.
Darbie took Sophie’s discarded clothes and shoved them into her locker for her. “We made them think it was, remember?”
“Only they’ve embellished it,” Fiona said.
“Does that mean they exaggerated?” Maggie said.
“More like they decorated what we said with lies.” Fiona’s voice tightened. “Or are they?”
“Some eejit told me you’d been dating in secret since last year,” Darbie said. “And we know that’s a lie.”
Willoughby looked wide-eyed at Sophie. “It is a lie, right?”
“Hel-lo!” Sophie looked at Fiona, who didn’t look back.
“Sorry,” Willoughby said.
Sophie plunked herself down on the bench to put on her shoes. “I hope Jimmy doesn’t think I’m telling everybody all this stuff.”
“Maybe you should ask him,” Maggie said.
“You want me to ask him for you?” Willoughby said.
“I can do it,” Sophie said.
“Let Willoughby do it,” Fiona said.
But sending somebody else sounded to Sophie too much like something one of the Pops would do if she actually liked a guy. They always made everything so complicated with boys.
Still, Sophie’s mouth went dry as she headed for Jimmy in the gym. But before she could get to him, he came to her. His red spots had been reduced to two, and he was smiling.
“Pretty funny, huh?” he said. “All the stuff they’re saying about us.”
“Funny?” Sophie looked at him closely. “You aren’t mad about it, are you? Because I didn’t start it—”
“What’s to get mad about? I’m laughing all over the place.”
“Oh,” Sophie said. He was right, of course. Du-uh—that’s what you did with bullies.
He bent his blond head toward her and lowered his voice. “Did you know we were getting married?”
“What?”
“Planning the wedding and everything. I mean, come on—who’s gonna believe that?”
He had the most perfect are-these-people-lame-or-what expression on his face, Sophie spit out a laugh. Jimmy grinned and pretended to wipe her saliva off his shirt.
“All right, lovebirds, break it up!” Coach Yates yelled.
“See you at the wedding,” Jimmy whispered to Sophie.
“Do we have to invite her?” Sophie whispered back.
Seven
Jimmy’s words nudged at Sophie like mischievous elves. So when Pepper asked her if she wanted her to try to get Jimmy switched with Nathan so they could be in the same gymnastics group, Sophie just laughed out loud. Now, if Pepper had asked her to switch Eddie with Jimmy, that would have been a different matter.
Eddie did do his forward rolls and his tripods and his headstands like Pepper told him to. But Sophie wasn’t fooled. After all, he was still hanging with Tod and Colton outside classes. And she’d seen Eddie come out of Coach Virile’s office about five times.
He isn’t fooling Coach Virile, either, Sophie thought. She launched into her forward roll—and couldn’t stop rolling. When she did, she was in the middle of the gym.
Before she could even get up, Eddie was there, sticking his hand down to her.
“Want help?” he said.
Somewhere in the direction of Group Four, Sophie heard Colton clapping like an ape.
“I’m fine.” Sophie scrambled up by herself. How stupid do you think I am? she wanted to ask. Yeah, she still needed to watch Eddie—along with the thousand other things she had to do.
She and Jimmy met Thursday and Friday mornings before school to write their website proposal for Round Table. Both days Fiona shot her so many pointy looks during first period, Sophie felt like she needed Band-Aids.
I know she gets all possessive, Sophie thought, but for Pete’s sake, I’m spending all the rest of my time with her!
Thursday and Friday at lunch and after school, and all day Saturday, the Flakes and Charms worked on their Dr. Peter Christmas movie. Most of that time they were rewriting the script. The whole thing. There didn’t seem to be a line in the original that didn’t make everyone’s eyes roll. A couple of times Sophie thought Fiona’s might disappear up into her head.
“It is the wee hours of the morning, sir,” Fiona read in a fake-deep voice Saturday afternoon. “What business have you with us?” She looked at the group with her mouth open. “Nobody talks like that.”
“It’s set in the Victorian era,” Vincent said.
“I bet they didn’t talk like that then, either,” Fiona said stubbornly.
“So what do you want it to say?” Maggie tapped her gel pen on the open Treasure Book.
Jimmy let an easy smile spread across his face. “How ’bout ‘Yo, dude, what’s up? It’s three o’clock in the morning.’”
“Yeah,” Sophie said. “ ‘What you want?’”
Jimmy laughed. “ ‘It better be good because when somebody wakes me up, man, it can get ugly.’”
“You know it,” Sophie said, giggling.
“Do I write that down?” Maggie said.
“Yeah, that’s good!” Nathan said.
Fiona knotted her lips. “I don’t know, Jimmy. It’s pretty lame.”
Jimmy blinked. Sophie glared at Fiona.
“It isn’t lame, it’s a gas,” Darbie said.
“It won’t go with Victorian costumes then,” Fiona said.
Sophie was immediately serious. “Don’t change the costumes!” She’d already fallen in love with the gown Senora LaQuita was making for her. It even had a corset underneath that made her stand up very straight.
“You know what would be mega-funny?” Vincent said. His big, loose grin took up half his face. “If we did everything Victorian, even, like, with those proper voices, but we used modern language, like you guys just did.”
“That would be class!” Darbie said.
“It isn’t supposed to be funny.” Maggie tapped harder with the gel pen.
“Why not?” Vincent said. “The kids’ll laugh, but they’ll still get the point.”
“Yeah! Kind of like a Disney movie,” Willoughby said, “where it’s all slapstick, and then you have a serious part where you end up crying.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy said. He tilted his head at Sophie. “You’re not saying anything.”
Eyes half closed, Sophie nodded slowly.
“Uh-oh, she’s dreaming,” Fiona said. “I know that look.”
“But is she dreaming the same thing we’re dreaming?” Vincent said.
Sophie blinked at him. “That depends.” “On what?” Darbie said.
“On whether I can be called Louisa Linkhart and act way proper.”
“Oh, yeah, we can’t use Cynthia Cyber, huh,” Jimmy said.
Fiona’s face went stiff. “Who’s Cynthia Cyber?”
“Internet Investigator,” Jimmy said. “She’s for the website.”
Fiona rolled her eyes and her head. “Come on, Jimmy,” she said. “You can’t have some Internet chick in a Victorian movie. That is lame.”
Jimmy turned even redder than Nathan.
“He knows that,” Sophie said through clenched teeth. “He just said that.”
“Okay!” Vincent said. “I vote we let Sophie be this Louey Linkey chick and act as proper as she wants. That’ll make it really funny when she says, like—”
“ ‘You get your tail out of here unless you have a death wish,’” Sophie/Louisa said. She made every letter distinct.
“I love that!” Willoughby cried.
Everyone joined in with their individual versions of Willoughby’s poodle yelp. That was, everyone except Fiona, who slit her eyes like a full-fledged Corn Pop.
It got worse
on the way to Fiona’s after rehearsal. Sophie was going to spend the night, but all Fiona did on the ride was concentrate on her cuticles.
This is gonna get ugly, Sophie thought.
They were barely in Fiona’s room when Fiona dropped her backpack on the floor and, hands on hips, ripped out with, “How come you didn’t tell me about Cynthia Cyber?”
Sophie sank down on the bed and counted the leopard spots on the pillowcase trim before she answered. It was better to think things through, she knew, when it came to a word-fight with Fiona.
“I didn’t tell you because you’re not working on the website,” Sophie said finally.
“Still,” Fiona said. She sat heavily next to Sophie. “You’re asking Round Table if we can all help, right?”
Sophie hadn’t actually considered that, but she nodded. She could feel Fiona’s eye darts going right through her.
“Sure,” she said. “I mean, if it’s okay with Jimmy.”
“Is he the boss of you now?” Fiona said.
Sophie grabbed the pillow and smacked her with it.
Fiona grabbed it and smashed it down beside her. “Don’t change the subject,” she said.
“What subject?” Sophie said.
“And don’t try to stall me, either. I want to know if you have to check everything out with Jimmy now. It sure seems like it.”
Fiona’s eyes narrowed as she punched her fist down into the pillow. Sophie felt like it was her stomach that had taken the hit.
“No,” Sophie said. “But we’re both doing the website. It wouldn’t be right for me to just say we’re gonna do something when he has half the say.” She gnawed at her lip. “I can’t be rude to him like you’re being.”
“I’m just being honest.” Fiona glared at the pillow. “And I wasn’t just talking about the website.”
“Then what?”
“I’m hungry.” Fiona headed for the door like she was starving. But Sophie knew she wasn’t.
It’s a hard enough job Internet investigating, Cynthia Cyber thought as she followed Dot Com to the kitchen. Why does she have to make it even MORE complicated?
Fiona didn’t have much to say the rest of the weekend. Sophie chewed on that until Monday. Finishing the website proposal with Jimmy that day helped. When they took it to Round Table at lunch, Hannah didn’t give them twenty-five reasons why it wouldn’t work. Oliver only snapped his rubber bands once, and that was when Sophie mentioned involving people outside of Round Table.
“I think it should just be the people who went to the conference,” he said.
“Feeling exclusive, are you, Oliver?” Miss Imes said, her eyebrows pointing up as sharply as her voice.
“No,” Oliver said. “But if this is such a big deal and people could get really wrecked by the whole cyber-bullying thing, it should be done by the people that know what it’s all about.”
Miss Imes nodded her head of crisp, almost-white hair. “Excellent reason. I underestimated you.”
The rest of the group gave Oliver polite applause, while Sophie chewed at her bottom lip again. Fiona wasn’t going to like this. At all.
Fiona didn’t like it. Even after Sophie explained to her at least twelve times that it was a Round Table decision, Fiona still drilled her eyes into Sophie. “They’re the ones who are losing out, then,” she said.
She opened her mouth as if she were going to say more, and then she snapped it shut.
“What?” Sophie said. “If you’re thinking Jimmy’s my new best friend or something, we have so been through this before—first Maggie, then Darbie.”
Fiona rolled her eyes. “That was back when I was immature,” she said. “Just forget it, okay? And tell those Round Table people I could help you build an awesome website.”
Then she knotted her mouth, and Sophie knew the conversation was over. Besides, Sophie thought, the Round Table website is already amazing.
They had Jimmy’s quiz, and sample situations of cyber bullying where web visitors could click on what they thought were the best solutions. When her picture popped up, Cynthia Cyber would then tell them if they were right or wrong. The drawing that Mrs. Britt chose to represent Cynthia Cyber wasn’t exactly how Sophie imagined her, but at least she was there.
Sophie tried to get Dot Com and Maga Byte in there too, but she and Jimmy decided that would make it too confusing. They already had so much information to include to help kids who were being bullied. They settled on a list of basics with little graphics of computers to click on for more information.
1. WHEN YOU’RE CYBER-BULLIED FOR THE FIRST TIME, DON’T RESPOND. THAT WILL ONLY MAKE THE SITUATON WORSE. MOST BULLIES GO AWAY IF YOU IGNORE THEM.
2. IF YOU’RE BULLIED AGAIN, PRINT OUT THE BULLYING MATERIAL AND SAVE IT IN CASE YOU NEED EVIDENCE. BLOCK ALL EMAILS FROM THE SENDER. THE HELP MENU ON YOUR EMAIL PROGRAM WILL SHOW YOU HOW.
3. IF THE BULLYNG KEEPS UP AND YOU FIND OUT WHO’S DOING IT, TELL YOUR PARENTS OR ANOTHER ADULT. ASK THEM TO CALL THE BULLY’S PARENTS.
4. IF THAT DOESN’T WORK, REPORT THE HARASSMENT TO SCHOOL OFFICIALS AND SEND YOUR EVIDENCE TO THE BULLY’S INTERNET SERVICE PROVIDER.
5. IF A CYBER BULLY THREATENS YOU WITH PHYSICAL HARM, TELL YOUR PARENTS AND ASK THEM TO CALL THE POLICE. CYBER STALKING IS A CRIME!
On another webpage they had everything about how to prevent Internet bullying. They included things like “netiquette”—online manners. And how to have a strong code of personal behavior so you don’t bully, even though no one may ever catch you.
One of the best parts of the website, Sophie thought, was the “Acceptable Use Policy” that everyone in the school would have to sign before they could use school computers. That seemed so wonderfully official to Sophie, and she and Jimmy always referred to it as the AUP. They didn’t come up with the idea themselves—a lot of schools were doing it—but Cynthia Cyber heartily approved.
Working on the website could have occupied all of Sophie’s time, if she hadn’t also been working on the movie and helping at home, plus chatting, emailing, and IMing on the computer. Her Internet time got cut back, though, when Lacie complained that she could never get online to do her homework. Daddy limited Sophie to an hour a day. It was like losing a finger or something.
And then there was school. It was getting hard to keep up, but Sophie knew she had to maintain at least a B in everything to keep her camera. Actually, school wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t ended up with Anne-Stuart every time a teacher assigned a group activity. What happened to us making our own groups? Sophie wondered more than once. Anne-Stuart was never openly snotty to her—especially not in Language Arts/Social Studies block where they had both Mrs. Clayton and Ms. Hess patrolling the classroom. But the too-nice approach she was using made Sophie feel like she needed Pepto-Bismol. Sophie thought she must be getting tips from that snake Eddie Wornom.
“Doesn’t it bother you that Julia is always in groups with Jimmy?” Anne-Stuart said to Sophie one day in Miss Imes’ class when their group was figuring out story problems.
Sophie glanced at the group in the corner. Julia had her desk touching Jimmy’s and appeared to be writing something on his paper. When she saw Sophie looking, she smiled a plastic smile and waved.
“She’s totally flirting with your guy,” Anne-Stuart said.
It did no good to protest for the ninety-fifth time that Jimmy wasn’t her “guy.”
Another day, Anne-Stuart showed up first period with an elastic bandage wrapped around her right wrist, saying she’d hurt it in PE the day before. She asked Sophie, in a cotton-candy voice, if she would email the group’s notes to her that night since she couldn’t write. The bandage disappeared by third period, and, come to think of it, Sophie didn’t remember seeing Anne-Stuart hurt it in the first place.
But I’ll email her the notes anyway. That’s what a Corn Flake does, Sophie told herself. Thankfully, there weren’t that many notes.
There was definitely a lot going on, but Sophie remembered to
confess everything to Jesus at night before she went to sleep.
I’m sorry I keep thinking the Corn Pops are the most heinous people in the galaxy. Even if they are, I shouldn’t be thinking that. I just wish they’d stop with the Jimmy thing already. HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND.
I gotta confess that I’m getting sick of Fiona pouting about the website. But I guess I would feel kinda hurt if it was me.
I hate it that I wanted to flush Zeke down the toilet today when he used my curtains for a Spider-Man web and tried to swing from the window to the bed. I hope Daddy can fix my curtain rod this weekend.
She always fell asleep before she got through the whole list. She liked getting a fresh start every day, but the teasing about Jimmy started the minute she set foot in the school. When she wished she could shove them all into the nearest garbage can, she knew there would be plenty more to confess that night.
But none of that teasing could compare to what happened Sunday.
Eight
When Sophie sat down to check her email after church, there were five messages. Three were from Fiona, which she was almost afraid to read. One was from Jimmy. The fifth one had an address she’d never seen before.
She hesitated with the cursor pointed at the Read icon. The website said not to open mail from unknown senders—but maybe this was just somebody who had never emailed her, like one of the Wheaties.
I’ll just look at it, and if it’s trash I’ll delete it, she decided.
Sofee, the email said. Check out this cool website.
Sophie clicked on the website address. The minute she saw it, she turned to ice.
Who’s getting together at GMMS? it said. And before the visitor could even wonder, there was the answer, complete with a photograph of Jimmy and Sophie huddled up like they were peeking out an imaginary window together.
“That was when we were practicing for the movie during lunch Friday!” she said out loud. “It was right out in the courtyard! Who took that?”
Sophie’s hand was so cold she could barely scroll down the page.
There was a “quote” from Sophie’s own screen name.
DREAMGRL: I’ve been after him for a long time. Now he’s mine.