Need

by Joelle Charbonneau

  Beneath the message is a picture of a cell phone with a blue case sitting atop an ugly purple knitted hat.

  Nate.

  Then my screen goes black.

  Yvonne

  “YVONNE.”

  She flips the page, hoping her mother will stop calling her. At least until she gets to the end of the chapter. She has to know if—

  “Yvonne, did you hear me?” Her mother stands in the doorway of the living room. Her dark bushy hair falls over one eye, but Yvonne can see her mom’s annoyance in the way she stands with the phone in one hand. “Mrs. L. is on the phone for you. It would be nice if you actually paid attention to what’s going on in this house instead of what’s in those books. Those books aren’t the real world, you know.”

  “I know, Mama,” Yvonne says. She gets off the couch, walks over to her mother, and takes the phone. She hopes Mrs. L. isn’t going to ask her to work extra hours this week. With break ending and finals less than two weeks away, she needs the time to study.

  “Hi, Mrs. L.” Her sister yells that Javier is hitting her, and someone cranks the volume on the music, so Yvonne leaves the room to ask, “Are we going to have a snow day at the bakery tomorrow?”

  “I hope not.” Mrs. L. laughs. “The weatherman swears the snow will stop around two a.m. That should give the plows plenty of time to clear the streets before the store opens. But if you have any trouble getting there, just give us a holler and I’ll send Jed and his truck to pick you up. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great, Mrs. L.”

  “Lovely. Now, on to other business. Do you remember taking an order for a box of seventeen cookies? The police contacted me and asked, but I’m at home and don’t have the paperwork in front of me. With the snow, I’d rather not go out so I’ve been calling everyone who might have manned the front the last couple days. Seventeen is an unusual number, so I thought it might stand out in your mind.”

  The police. Damn.

  Yvonne thinks of the form she filled out. She’d forgotten about it, with the store being so busy in the afternoon and her brothers and sisters screaming and racing around all night. She hasn’t even logged on to the computer since she got home because her dad’s been on it. He promised he’d finish soon so she could check her email and message some of her friends. The fake order was supposed to be no big deal. Who cares about a box of cookies? It’s just something she did because of a website. It doesn’t really matter, unless Mrs. L. finds out she faked it and basically lied.

  “You know, I do remember that order.” Putting her hand over the receiver she yells. “Would you all hold it down in there so I can talk? Please?” The screams subside to loud giggles. So she says, “It came in yesterday or the day before.” She can’t think of exactly what date she put on the form.

  “Oh, good,” Mrs. L. says. “Do you happen to know if it was one of our regulars? If you don’t remember, that’s okay too. Now that I know it’s real I’ll go over to the store and check the forms.”

  “No. I remember.” And because Mrs. L. is going to see the order Yvonne wrote anyway she says, “It was placed by a girl I go to school with. Her name is Kaylee Dunham.”

  Kaylee

  NO.

  I hit Enter again and again and again.

  No. No. No. No. Why won’t the screen load?

  Then I realize the computer hasn’t stopped working. It’s only the Internet page that has gone black. I shut down the browser and fumble with my mouse as I click on the NEED shortcut. A black screen appears with red lettering.

  ACCESS DENIED

  “Denied.” I click on it again. The same message appears. This has to be a mistake. The message I saw before the screen went dark is a mistake. Nate was here. He was fine. A total jerk, but a jerk who was fine.

  Until I made him leave.

  I won’t feel guilty for that. I won’t. After what he did, I had no choice. He isn’t my friend anymore. He never was. But . . .

  NEED could just be screwing with me. They must have seen or heard about the pictures I posted. They sent the message about Nate and then locked me out because they’re angry.

  But as much as I want to believe that’s true, I don’t. I pull out my phone and dial Nate’s cell phone, praying that he’s okay. I don’t want to talk to him, but as angry as I am, I want him to at least be okay.

  Straight to voicemail.

  Now what? Think. Think.

  NEED has Nate, and even though he’s scared and doesn’t want to be operated on, they’ve chosen him to be a donor for DJ. They’ll force him. I want to feel satisfaction at that. I want to believe it’s okay, since he should have made that decision on his own. But while removing a kidney isn’t usually a life-or-death operation for the donor, if NEED takes Nate’s kidney without his approval there is no way they’ll let him live. They can’t. Not without being exposed. DJ would live, but for that to happen Nate would die. NEED has already killed Amanda and possibly others. They will have no problem killing him, too.

  Oh God. No. He deserves a lot of things for what he’s done. I want him to feel the abandonment and pain I’m feeling. But I don’t want him dead.

  There has to be a way out of this. This was my request. NEED’s doing this for me. And I do want what I asked for, but not like this. There has to be a way to tell the website. And then I remember that there is. I open up my email, hit Reply to NEED’s message for me to stay silent, and type.

  Cancel my need request. I no longer want it.

  I shift in my seat, staring at my email, waiting for a reply. Hoping that the message reaches someone in time to stop whatever they are doing to Nate. I try to think of something else I can do. I have no idea who is running NEED. There must be a way to find out. Everyone says that nothing on the Internet is truly anonymous. Right? Isn’t that why our counselors and teachers tell us not to post anything online that we don’t want colleges or future employers to find if they do a search? Nate figured out that the site is tied to the people who sent him the survey. But he understands how the Internet works better than I do. I’ve only had to log on to sites or search for information. I’ve never thought about where the information is really stored or how to go about finding something that someone has worked to keep hidden. It might as well be on a real cloud for all the chance I have of reaching it.

  I wish I could rewind the clock. Make this all go away. But I can’t do that. I can’t track down Nate because I don’t know who took him. I can’t call my mother and ask her to help—she already thinks I’m just trying to grab attention. I can’t do anything.

  “Stop it.” I shake my head and shove back the hopelessness that threatens to choke me. I can’t let it or I really will be useless. Feeling sorry for myself won’t do any good. If I flip out I won’t be able to think. Nate hurt me by lying. He’s screwed up the only relationship I thought I could count on. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for his actions, but I deserve the chance to find out. And he deserves to live with what he has done. Right now he’s probably scared and alone and thinking that no one is looking for him. His parents think he’s with me, and I kicked him out. No one else will be wondering where he is because he never shows up for them when he says he will. He’s just as isolated as I am. If he’s going to survive this, I’m his only hope. I have to focus.

  If I were NEED and I wanted to force someone to donate a kidney, how would I do it? A hospital would be required. So would a recipient. Heart racing, I text my mother asking if DJ knows where the TV remote is. My heart stops pounding when she texts back that DJ put it next to the TV and Aunt Susan says hello.

  They’re safe and DJ is still in Milwaukee. That’s what I wanted to know. As long as they are away from Nottawa I have time to find Nate. I turn back to my laptop when I hear a ding. I have mail and it’s from NEED.

  DEAR KAYLEE,

  DUE TO SECTION 7 OF THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS, WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT THE UPDATE TO YOUR NEED REQUEST CANNOT BE GRANTED. NEED REQUESTS ONCE ACCEPTED CANNOT BE TAKEN BACK. IT
IS ALWAYS IMPORTANT TO CONSIDER THE IMPLICATIONS OF WHAT YOU THINK YOU NEED. WE HOPE YOU WILL TAKE MORE CARE IN THE FUTURE.

  ALSO, WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU ARE ONCE AGAIN IN VIOLATION OF THE THIRD SECTION OF THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS. PUBLICLY POSTING INFORMATION ABOUT THE NEED NETWORK IS PROHIBITED. AS A RESULT, YOUR NEED ACCOUNT HAS BEEN SUSPENDED AND DISCIPLINARY ACTION HAS BEEN INSTITUTED.

  THE NEED TEAM

  Oh God. What do I do now? Any chance of learning more about Nate’s abduction through photos or posts on the network has just been eliminated. I can’t wait for whatever disciplinary action NEED is sending to me while Nate is out there . . . somewhere. I stare at the screen unable to move. Unable to think.

  Well, I can’t just sit here and do nothing. Dr. Jain says most of my troubles stem from reacting out of emotion first and thinking things through later, or something like that. I roll my eyes every time she spouts that kind of psychological garbage, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t right. Tears and anger and flipping out won’t help me now. I need a plan.

  I can’t get to NEED without knowing who’s behind it, but I can try to get to the person who took Nate. After all the text messages Jack sent, I have to believe he knows something.

  I dial his house. When Mrs. Weakley answers and starts chatting about my mother and asks if I’m excited for the start of a new year, I cut her off and ask to speak to Jack. “I know he’s busy and he probably won’t want to talk to me, but I’d appreciate it if you’d ask him. It’s about Nate. Just tell him it’ll only take a minute, please.”

  She puts down the phone to go in search of Jack, maybe thinking I’m trying to broker a peace treaty between her sons. If I save Nate and find a way to forgive him, maybe I’ll actually try.

  “Jack’s in the bathroom. I can have him call you back in a minute if that’s okay.”

  Like I have a choice.

  While I wait, I grab a piece of paper and write down what I know about NEED. Maybe I’ll spot a pattern that can help me. Doing anything is better than sitting around, waiting.

  NEED appeared less than a week ago.

  NEED is an invitation-only website for students of Nottawa High.

  NEED sent a survey to Nate. Others must have gotten it, but who?

  NEED directed people to deliver cookies to Amanda, photograph documents, and kill dogs, as well as orchestrate fights, flat tires, and Nate’s kidnapping.

  NEED knew Nate is a match for DJ before it launched, and used that information to blackmail Nate into giving it assistance.

  How?

  I stop writing. How did NEED know? And who knew enough about Nate to understand how much he would risk to keep that secret? Nate said the people who contacted him were members of a government grant program looking for information about the people here in order to approve or deny the grant. But that can’t be right. Whoever is behind NEED had to know enough not only to dig for Nate’s medical records, but also to know why he was being tested, who the recipient would be, and why it would mean so much for Nate to refuse.

  And now that I think about it, how did they know which people would be acceptable to invite to the site? Did they check every email address individually, which seems unlikely given how fast membership acceptance happened, or did they already know what our email addresses are? Somehow, the people operating the site seem to know everything about us. When Nate first talked about NEED, he said whoever is behind it is incredibly smart. They understand how to entice and capture users quickly. In no time nearly everyone in our high school belonged.

  What are the odds that the site randomly picked the exact right people to send the initial email to? Had they chosen me, I would have most likely deleted the email without much thought. Lots of other kids I know would have done the same thing, if they even bothered to log on to their email at all. But Nate’s brother, Jack, likes checking his email. He does it all the time, as if to prove how popular he is. And Jack isn’t the type to delete anything that promises a shot at getting something for nothing. Between his influence and his greed, Jack was a perfect choice to help get NEED up and running. And since he was among of the first members, he was one of the first to get his request granted. Jack isn’t the type to keep a secret, especially if he can use whatever he knows to brag. He bragged to his friends about his new phone. He bragged about getting the slide board. He was a walking, talking advertisement. Just like NEED knew he would be.

  The surveys would have given NEED some information, but they seem to know everything. Our emails. Our likes and dislikes—otherwise how could they have gotten requests fulfilled so quickly? And it had to be quick, or the whole thing would have lost momentum.

  Who could know those things?

  As I look at the list, the last thing Nate said to me makes sense. The power behind NEED has to be from Nottawa. It has to be people who know us. Really know us and not just by sight. I think about the first time Nate showed me NEED and the opening screen. It pointed out that there’s a difference between a want and a need. If the creators of the site actually knows all of us, they would know if what we asked for is necessary or simply something we desire. If that’s true, then they would know DJ needs a new kidney. They could know Nate didn’t need an A to pass his class. Originally, I’d assumed I wasn’t asked to perform a task because NEED couldn’t fulfill my request. But they’re working on it now. Maybe I wasn’t asked to do anything because they knew it was a genuine need.

  Almost everyone here in Nottawa knows about DJ and my search to help him find a donor. So that alone doesn’t narrow anything down. But I doubt many know about Nate’s test results, which say he is a match, or that those who do would also be dialed into Jack. If Jack’s parents were computer whizzes, I’d wonder if they were involved, but as absorbed as they are in Jack, they would never threaten to hurt Nate. So, who? And thinking of Jack, I realize too much time has passed. I need to call back.

  Mrs. Weakley answers the phone again and is filled with apologies about Jack not getting back to me. “I’m sure he was going to call any minute.”

  I’m sure he wasn’t, but I thank her again and wait.

  The murmuring on the other end suggests that Jack isn’t in the mood to talk. But whatever his mother says must do the trick because, after a few minutes, Jack comes on the line. “Yeah, what do you want?”

  “Where’s Nate?”

  “Why should I know or care?” he sneers. This is why Nate avoids him. Belligerent. Arrogant. Incredibly annoying.

  “You must care,” I snap back. “You texted him almost a dozen times tonight asking that same question.”

  “Well, I guess having my texts ignored changed my mind. If Nate doesn’t want to talk to me, he doesn’t have to. And I don’t have to talk to you either.”

  “You do unless you want me to call the cops and tell them you helped kidnap Nate because NEED told you to. Who did you work with? You told someone Nate would be at my house. What do you need so badly that you’re willing to hurt your brother to get it?”

  “Calm the hell down,” Jack says quietly. Someone must be close enough to overhear him. Or me, because I realize now that I was shouting. My breathing is shallow and rapid. Fear is gaining control.

  “Look,” he says. “Nate might be pissed off when he finally comes home, but this is no big deal. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

  “You can’t be that clueless.” He starts to protest but I talk over him. “Log on to NEED. Look at the pictures of the dogs it asked someone to kill and tell me nothing bad is going to happen. I don’t care what you want enough to convince yourself that betraying your brother is no big deal, but I’m betting your parents will. Tell me exactly what NEED asked you to do and who you’re working with or I’m going to make sure your dad knows what you’ve done.”

  “It’s just a dumb joke.” But he no longer sounds certain. “I asked for a home gym, since the stuff I have here is junk. I was told Nate was unwilling to help someone fulfill a NEED request and that they wanted to haze him a littl
e for his attitude.” Oh God. “I just had to deliver him to the person who was going to do the hazing. We haze the new guys on the football and basketball teams all the time. No big deal.”

  “Who?” I ask, since there is no point in discussing what this hazing might consist of. “Who did you deliver Nate to?”

  “Bryan VanMeter. Only Nate wouldn’t answer his text messages to hook up with me, so I changed the plan. I told Bryan where he could find Nate and let him deal with the rest. To be honest, I’m amazed someone that’s such a wuss pulled it off.”

  “What’s his cell phone number?”

  Jack lets out a frustrated grunt. “I have to look at my phone to tell you. One minute while I put you on speaker.”

  I’ve known Bryan VanMeter forever, but clearly I don’t really know him. Not that we hang out or anything, but still I would never have guessed he would want something badly enough to lie in wait and hurt Nate.

  Jack gives me the number. I write it down and am about to hang up when Jack says, “Nate’s going to be fine. I’m sorry you were scared when he disappeared, but he’s going to be fine. Honest. Bryan doesn’t have the balls to do anything really bad.”

  It’s hard to tell if Jack’s trying to convince me or himself.

  Bryan

  THE SNOW is coming down harder. Or maybe he only thinks the storm is getting worse because of how cold and ill he feels as he huddles in his car, watching the building across the way. Where Nate is. Where Bryan left him cuffed with his hands behind his back, lying on the dusty floor. The back entrance of the old post office was open when he got there. The lock hadn’t been broken. No splinters of wood lay on the floor near the door. Someone must have gotten hold of a key. From the realtor maybe? It’s the last place anyone would look for Nate. The post office was closed last year despite the petition his dad and his dad’s friends circulated. Not enough business, the government said. So it was shut down and has been empty since. Until now.