by Jan Gangsei
“What’s that?” Addie said.
“Shhh,” Connor answered, holding a finger to his lips.
“Seriously?” Keagan said, giving Connor a disapproving look that didn’t hide her amusement. “With the First Kid here? I am so tempted to make a scene right now, see what Coach thinks of that,” she said.
“Don’t hate,” Connor said, unscrewing the cap, and Addie suddenly felt like an idiot. It was a flask. “Ladies first.” He poured a splash of something that smelled rich and nutty into Keagan’s shake.
Darrow glanced at Addie and raised an eyebrow. “Only if you want to,” he said.
Addie shrugged as Connor discreetly spiked the others’ shakes. This was probably the most normal night she would ever have in her life; she might as well enjoy it.
“That’s my girl,” Connor said when she held out her cup, and he poured twice as much into Addie’s shake as he had into the others’. She decided to take it as a compliment. He poured a generous splash of golden liquid into his own milk shake, then topped off everyone else’s. He raised his cup.
“To the weekend!”
“It’s only Thursday,” Harper said.
“Then all the more reason.”
They raised their cups. Addie sipped, the cool milk shake now burning slightly as it slid down the back of her throat. She coughed a little. Discussion turned to the latest Cabot gossip, from who had hooked up over spring break, to a plagiarizing scandal at the school newspaper. It was all so incredibly normal, and that somehow made it fascinating. She watched how Darrow and his friends interacted. They were so comfortable with each other; they’d clearly been close for years. She wondered what it would be like to have friends like that, to have so many inside jokes and stories that you could practically speak to each other in shorthand. For a few minutes, she pretended that she really was one of them; that these were her jokes, too. After a while, Darrow leaned in and whispered in Addie’s ear.
“I hope you’re not getting bored,” he said. “I know you don’t have a clue who half these people are.”
Addie shook her head, which was already feeling light from the little extra something in her milk shake. Nearly an hour had passed, and she had barely noticed. “No,” she said, slurping up the last of her shake. “In fact, this is the best time I’ve had in…well, a long time.”
Darrow grinned at her. He looked so happy that, in that moment, she wanted more than anything to make him believe she was the girl he thought she was—that things might really go back to normal and they could pick up where they’d left off, continue the story of what might have been.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Addie said, and a sweet, floaty feeling of serenity drifted over her. Her head was suddenly resting on Darrow’s shoulder, and just then she couldn’t think of a single thing that would convince her to move it.
Darrow swallowed, then raised his hand and gently stroked her hair.
“I missed you, Ad,” he said, his voice low and soft.
Addie felt a deep ache in the pit of her stomach and a tingle that spread to the tips of her fingers. A loud voice brought her back to reality.
“Don’t laugh about it,” Harper said, her alto voice an octave higher than usual. “They’re dangerous. No one knows what they really want.”
The attacks. The conversation was bound to come around to them at some point. What was Addie thinking? Did she really believe she could just slip into a new life because she felt like it? This was all pretend. She was just a player on a stage. And there were more important things at stake, people she couldn’t let down.
Harper opened her mouth to continue, but something beeped in her pocket. She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. All the color drained from her face.
“I’ve got to go.” She grabbed her jacket and stood.
“Wait, what?” Darrow said. “Why?”
Harper shoved her phone into her pocket. Her bottom lip trembled and Addie could see she was fighting back tears. “It’s nothing,” she said. “I’ve just got to get home.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Darrow said, following Harper to the door. Addie watched them as they talked, Harper shaking her head, Darrow seeming to plead with her to do something. Finally, Harper pulled out her phone and showed it to Darrow. His face screwed up tightly with anger. Harper attempted to leave again, but Darrow caught her by the arm, saying something with more force now.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Addie slipped her own phone out of her pocket and tucked it beneath the table. She tapped the screen, keeping one eye on Harper and Darrow, and one on the phone. She scanned the Bluetooth devices nearby. C’mon…there it was. She typed in a series of commands. She just needed a few more seconds…
Across the room, Harper shook herself free of Darrow’s grasp and hurried out the door. Darrow stormed back to the table, cheeks red and eyes burning. Addie tapped her phone. Got it.
“What’s up?” Luke asked. Darrow’s jaw was clenched, his hands balled into fists.
“I can’t say, but I’ve kind of lost my appetite. Let’s roll,” Darrow said.
As the limo rounded the corner onto Pennsylvania Avenue, Addie turned her back on Darrow and Christina, who were sitting opposite her. Darrow was still too angry to talk, and Christina was busy watching the road outside.
Addie tapped the screen on her phone. Just before Harper left the restaurant, Addie had found a back door into her e-mail. And now she knew what had Harper and Darrow so upset. A single, grainy video of Harper. Kissing a girl at some music festival on the Mall. With an attached message: “just wait till daddy finds out.”
Addie’s gut burned. And this time, it wasn’t the whiskey. She liked Harper. From the moment she’d met her, the girl had made Addie feel welcome. Harper didn’t sneak looks at Addie and then cast her eyes away whenever she looked back, like pretty much everyone else at school. Addie stared intently at her phone. The e-mail had come from a generic address, but Addie didn’t have any trouble tracing it to an Instagram account. With a name. A name that made her want to throw up all over the limo’s leather seats.
Elinor Webster.
Darrow sat in the limo, silently fuming. What the hell was Elinor thinking? He knew she hated Harper, blamed his friend for “turning him against her,” but he couldn’t wrap his mind around this. Had Ellie always been this cruel?
The car slowed and approached the White House gates. In the darkness, the glow of Addie’s phone reflected on the tinted window next to her and Darrow’s mouth dropped.
He could have sworn the video Harper had shown him was on Addie’s screen.
He tried to look again, but Addie had the phone in her lap now, angled away from him. She was typing, eyes intent on the screen. Darrow shook his head. She must have been looking at something else. There was no way.
The car pulled through the back gate and took a sharp turn into the White House garage. The phone in Darrow’s pocket buzzed. He pulled it out. A text from Harper.
Call me. ASAP.
Darrow barely said good-bye when the limo pulled into the parking space and rolled to a stop, instead hurrying to his own car, where he called Harper. She answered on the first ring.
“Harper,” he said the second she said hello. “I am so sorry. I had no idea she would pull something like this. I’m going to—”
“Whoa,” Harper said. “Slow down. That’s why I texted. Elinor already called me.”
“What?”
“Yeah, she was pissed. Accused me of hacking into her computer and deleting the video,” Harper said.
“Did you?” Darrow said, impressed.
“Um, no,” Harper said. “I don’t know how to do that.”
Darrow paused, thinking. “Weird. Think she deleted it herself by accident?”
“Nope,” Harper said. “Because get this. She also accused me of replacing the file with some cat video.” Harper giggled. “So it was no accident.”
Every hair on the back of Darrow’s neck stood on end
. It was definitely no accident. The whole thing made him uneasy, reminded him of something. And then it hit him: Parker Carrington getting a face full of chocolate milk in the third grade when he’d spread a lie about Darrow.
Revenge exacted by the same person who had just been huddled over her phone in the limo next to him.
But how the hell did Addie Webster have the tech savvy to do that, after spending the last eight years locked in a room, virtually alone on some compound, entirely off the grid? It just wasn’t possible.
Unless General McQueen was right.
And Addie was lying.
It had been a long week. Darrow spread a stack of papers out on the table in his mother’s White House office, knowing he should be happy it was finally Friday. But all he felt was dread. On Monday he had to report back to McQueen. And right now, Darrow had no idea what he was going to tell the man. He couldn’t shake the image of the video he’d seen reflected in the limousine’s window last night—just minutes before someone deleted it off of Elinor’s computer. Darrow rubbed the back of his neck. He needed more time. Time to think. And he needed answers.
He pulled the phone from his pocket and typed.
We need to talk, E. That was low even for you.
He stared at the phone, waiting. She didn’t respond right away. A knot formed in Darrow’s gut. Elinor’s silence, as he now knew, could be far more deadly than her bluntness. Ellie was never truly quiet, only quietly planning. The phone buzzed.
Thought you’d like it. Guess I have friends now who HELP ME instead of selling me out.
Darrow’s jaw clenched.
So you used your friends to spy on Harper? To get back at me? How big of you.
Don’t flatter yourself, Elinor replied. Gotta find some way to pass the time here ;)
Darrow stared at the message, anger rising, and considered writing back. Then he thought better of it. No point engaging in a word war with Elinor. He had bigger things to worry about. He shoved the phone back in his pocket. It buzzed almost immediately.
He blew out a sigh as he pulled the phone back out and checked the screen. But this time, the message was from Addie. The blood rushed to his cheeks.
Hey. No clue how to find the volume of a cube. Feel so stupid.
You’re not stupid, Darrow quickly typed back.
Still need help…Please?!? In Dad’s study.
Sure. Be right there.
Darrow stacked his papers, tucked them into his backpack, and headed down the hallway toward the Oval Office. It was six thirty and relatively quiet in the West Wing. Just the usual overachievers milling about, young staffer types with no families at home for them to worry about feeding or tucking into bed at night. They’d keep going until they moved over to Union Pub, where they’d toss back twelve-dollar pitchers of beer, stagger home to sleep, and get back up the next morning to do it all over again.
Darrow found Addie sitting on a sofa in President Webster’s private study on the other side of the Oval Office. She had a computer open in front of her on the coffee table and a stack of papers next to it.
“Hey,” she said, quickly slapping the computer shut. “Thanks for coming.” She moved over and made room for him next to her.
Darrow sat down and their shoulders bumped, sending a little tingle down his spine. He moved slightly away. But not too far. He dropped his backpack on the floor. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Addie pulled out a geometry worksheet and slid it in front of Darrow. He read the problem, then picked up a pencil and began to write out the answer, explaining each step, while Addie watched and nodded.
“Does that make sense?” he said when he reached the end.
“I mean, yes. But you make it look so easy,” Addie said. “I’m too stupid to—”
“You are not stupid,” Darrow said. “You’re just…”
“Just what?” Addie said.
“Just going to need a little time to catch up.” He handed the paper back to Addie, fingers brushing against hers. That little tingle he’d felt earlier ran up his arm. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”
“Okay,” Addie said softly. “Thanks.”
“Sure.” He leaned back, face flushed. Addie relaxed into the sofa next to him. They both stared straight ahead. The outline of Agent Alvarez’s right arm was visible just outside the door. She lifted it, and Darrow could hear the agent mutter something into the mouthpiece on her wrist.
“Not quite the same as the tree house here, is it?” Addie said.
“At least it’s more secure,” Darrow said. Addie faced him, color draining from her cheeks. Darrow immediately regretted his words. “I meant with everything going on with the attacks. That’s all.”
“Right,” Addie said and leaned forward onto her elbows, back trembling slightly.
“Are you okay?” Darrow said. He held out his hand and quickly pulled it back, wanting to touch her but losing his nerve.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little cold.”
Darrow peeled his sweatshirt off, static crackling his hair and making it stick up. He smoothed it down and handed it to Addie. “Here. Have this.”
Addie took the maroon Cabot sweatshirt and slipped it over her head. “Thanks,” she said, pulling the long sleeves over her hands.
An awkward silence hung in the air. Addie leaned back next to Darrow again and he grew increasingly aware of her breath, the heat of her body so near his. He also became increasingly aware of the time. And the meeting with McQueen, getting closer by the minute. He had no idea what he was going to say. And the more time he spent here with Addie sitting shoulder to shoulder, the more conflicted he grew.
“So, have you heard anything from Elinor?” he asked cautiously.
“Ellie?” Addie said. “No. I have no idea how to get in touch with her.”
“Nothing? No e-mail or anything?” Darrow said, eyes flicking toward Addie’s closed computer.
Addie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have an address for her. Why, do you?”
“No,” Darrow said, almost a little too quickly. “I mean, I have her Cabot e-mail, but not her personal one…” His voice trailed off. Addie regarded him for another moment as his eyes wandered briefly to her laptop and then back to her. She stood, stretching her arms above her head. Darrow began to stand, too.
“Don’t get up,” Addie said. “Just need to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back, ’kay? Then maybe you could help me with a couple more problems?”
“Yeah, sure,” Darrow said. He watched her walk away. Once she was gone, he looked back at her laptop, the green power light on the front blinking like a beacon. She’d slapped it shut so quickly when he came in…Was she hiding something?
He rubbed his palms on his jeans and peered into the hallway once more. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Addie was lying through her teeth about Elinor. Well, there was one way to find out. He flipped the computer open and was greeted by a login screen.
With trembling fingers, he typed in the password Addie had used when they were little kids: mrfluff.
The screen immediately froze. Something flashed.
Invalid password.
Dammit. Darrow’s heart pounded wildly as Addie’s footsteps tapped down the hall, getting closer. He slammed the computer shut and pushed it away just as she entered the room, trying not to jump.
“Hey,” she said, looking at the table. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just waiting for you.”
“All right.” She raised an eyebrow, still staring at her computer, then walked around the coffee table and sat down next to him. “You ready to get back to work?”
“Of course,” Darrow said, trying to slow his pounding heart.
After they wrapped up the last question, Addie stayed behind. She waited until Darrow’s footsteps faded away, then flipped open her computer. Her lips tightened.
She knew it. He had been trying to log in while she was in the bathroom. The proof was right in f
ront of her. She logged in, clicked the security program she’d installed, and read the report.
Unauthorized login attempt: “mrfluff”, 6:47 P.M.
A picture of Darrow’s guilty face appeared below, captured by the computer’s camera as he’d tried to shut it down.
Addie closed the program. Darrow was suspicious of her for some reason. She ran her hand across the smooth silver finish of her laptop, thinking. What had he been looking for in here? The obvious answer: something to do with Elinor. Addie remembered Darrow peeking over her shoulder in the limo last night, and his questions today about whether Addie had been in touch with her sister. But why not come right out and ask Addie if she knew about the video?
The not-so-obvious answer: he suspected her of something else. Something more. Addie chided herself. She’d been so careful around everyone…except him. It was beginning to look like she’d underestimated her old friend.
That was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.
On Monday, Addie had the distinct feeling that Darrow was avoiding her. At lunch, instead of joining everyone at their usual table, he disappeared into the library to study, barely saying hello. He simply waved when they passed in the hallways. And he busied himself with his phone as soon as he sat down next to her in English. A guilty conscience for trying to get on her computer? Maybe, but Addie needed to be sure.
When the last bell rang she headed straight for the senior hallway, searching for Darrow’s familiar dark curls among the crowd. She finally spotted him cramming books into his locker. As he turned to head for the door, she ran and caught him by the arm.
“Hey,” she said. “There you are. I’ve barely seen you all day.”
“Yeah, it’s been busy,” he said, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
“No kidding,” Addie said. “Headed to the White House now?”
“Yep,” he said. “Same place I always go after school. I’m like part of the furniture there.”