A World of Trouble (18 page)

Guessing this is Annika's grown-up room, I should be even more inclined to reach the windows and find a way out. But then my eyes catch two familiar words on the computer screen. And I go to the desk instead.

When I get closer, I see the words are actually names.

Mine. And Elinor's.

I glance behind me. The door's still closed and locked. I listen. The hallway's silent. I turn back to the computer and skim the e-mail on the screen.

TO:
[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT:
RE: RE: RE: Hi!

Dear Seamus,

Any idea why Annika might be stressed? Maybe because she's trying to be the best director she can be and run the best academy possible in hopes of producing the kind of strong, smart, skilled young adults our world could use so many more of ? That's a lot of responsibility—and pressure. It could make a person tense every now and then.

As for her missing me? I doubt it. She might be my aunt, but she can be a real

The note stops there. I scroll down, but the rest of the message box is empty.

This sounds like a reply to the note I sent Elinor on my way here. But how is it on Annika's computer? And why is it half written?

A gray square rimmed in silver digital flowers grows in the center of the screen. Its note covers Elinor's.

NEW MESSAGE: SEAMUS HINKLE

I stare at the bright white words. New message? To me? From me? Is GS George snooping through my backpack downstairs? And playing with my K-Mail?

The gray box fades. Elinor's note narrows and moves to the right side of the screen. A new sidebar appears on the left side of the screen. It has three boxes with three labels.

KILTER, A.

HINKLE, S.

NORRIS, E.

The middle box is blinking. My eyes shift from the screen to the clear mouse next to the keyboard.

I could definitely get kicked out for tampering with the director's K-Mail.

Then again, I could also be promoted to assistant director.

I take the mouse. Guide the cursor to my name. Click.

“What the . . . ?” I breathe.

The sidebar and Elinor's half-written note fade as my in-box appears. And my sent-message folder. And my trash. And every other item and option I see whenever I load my K-Mail on my K-Pak. The new message is from the Kommissary. I ignore it and click on my sent messages. The entire list pops up, with every note I've sent Lemon, Abe, Gabby, Elinor, Annika, and Miss Parsippany. There's even the one I sent Dad last semester. I click the trash folder next and see dozens of notes about Kilter sporting events and menu changes.

I exit my message system and click on Elinor's. I feel a pinch of guilt in my stomach as her in-box loads, but something stronger tells me to keep going.

She doesn't have many messages. In fact, most of the ones in her in-box are from me. Since she's not here, she's probably been removed from the master class list so doesn't receive those notes sent to all students.

There's a thump in the hallway. At least I think there is. It's hard to tell with my pulse hammering in my ears. Either way, time's not on my side. So I exit Elinor's message system and aim the cursor toward Annika's box. Before I can click again, another gray square appears.

MESSAGE MOVE FROM KILTER, A. MOBILE TO MASTER TRASH SUCCESSFUL

A white garbage can at the bottom of the screen flashes. I click on it instead.

My pulse grows faster. Louder. It sounds—and feels—like one of those ancient steam locomotives is chugging back and forth between my temples. Against the glass mouse, my fingers become slick with sweat. I force myself to focus and open the new deleted message. According to the time stamp, it was sent five minutes ago.

TO:
[email protected];

[email protected];

[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT
: Music Man Meltdown Rescheduled. Again.

Hey,

Since Hinkle's busy schedule kept him from our second retaliation attempt, and since Lemon's still so gung ho on doing this thing as a complete alliance, I'm suggesting a third option. Why don't we meet at the gazebo after first period today? Devin has choir rehearsal there second period. It'll be trickier since it's so exposed, but I think we can still get him.

Later.

—A

I close that note and open the next in the list. According to the time stamp, it was sent this morning. Before Abe's and my awkward exchange.

Only I never got it.

TO:
[email protected];

[email protected];

[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT
: Music Man Meltdown, Take Two

Hey,

Great idea. Did some sleuthing (you're welcome) and found out Devin runs through his scales every morning inside the Kanteen delivery truck. Something about stellar acoustics. Want to unleash our yodel on him? This morning at 7:45?

Abe-man out.

I close that note. Skim the list and choose another note toward the bottom. It was sent three weeks ago, right after school started

.

TO:
[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT:
Hi

Dear Seamus,

Thank you so much for writing. I can't tell you how happy I was to get your note. My arm's almost healed and the doctors say scarring should be minimal. They also said it would've been nonexistent if I'd gotten medical attention sooner, but that's okay. It's still good news.

In less good news, I'm sorry to say I won't be returning to Kilter this semester. Annika decided I didn't really want to be there and kicked me out. I have to return my K-Pak but wanted to make sure I wrote you before I did. I know we weren't always best friends last semester, but you were nicer to me than anyone's ever been. I'll be grateful forever, and I'll never forget it.

And since we probably won't see each other again, I can say something now I'd be too nervous to say in person.

I miss you. And I wish you were here. Because my new school's okay, but it'll definitely take some getting used to.

I guess they don't call it Blackhole, Arizona, for nothing.

Good luck with everything. I know you'll be an amazing Troublemaker.

—Elinor

As I stare at the screen, Annika's voice shoots through my head.

I don't care where, when, or how. We will
bury
that place. And be done with her, once and for all!

I close the note. The trash can. The sidebar. Until the original message is the only thing on the computer screen.

Then I go back downstairs. My teachers are gone. GS George and Annika are waiting for me in the living room.

“There he is!” Annika beams. “I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, Seamus. To make up for it, what do you say we save the update and start with your question first?”

“I say that's a great idea.”

“Fantastic!” She sinks to a velvet couch and pats the seat next to her. “Do you know what you'd like to ask?”

“Yes.” I take my backpack from the floor and hitch it onto my shoulders. “I don't feel well. Can I leave?”

DEMERITS: 385

GOLD STARS: 300

A
nnika's surprised by my request
but lets me go. I tell her I'll check in later, then take the golf cart back to the main part of campus. After e-mailing Wyatt, Samara, and Lizzie to say I'm sick, which isn't a lie because my stomach's been turning since discovering Annika's K-Mail kleptomania, I skip my afternoon classes to think. Plan. Prepare.

After dinner that night, I'm as ready as I'm going to be. For Phase One, anyway.

Of Operation Evacuate Elinor.

“Operation what?” Lemon asks.

“Evacuate who?” Gabby asks.

“You're kidding, right?” Abe asks.

They've just gotten home from the Kanteen. I've just asked them to join me at the kitchen table and introduced the mission. Now I repeat it. Slowly.

“Operation. Evacuate. Elinor.” I look at Abe. “I wish I were.”

“Evacuate her from where?” Lemon asks.

“Another school,” I say.

“Why?” Gabby asks.

“Because she doesn't want to be there.”

“How do you know?” Lemon asks.

“She wrote me.”

“And asked you to come get her?” Gabby asks.

I pause. “Not exactly.”

That's all Abe needs to hear. He sighs and shoves back the chair.

“Abraham—”

“No.” He cuts off Lemon. “Hinkle's too busy and important to even e-mail and say he can't make it to an alliance mission—four times—and now he expects us to just drop everything and help him save his girlfriend?”

“She's not my girlfriend.”

“Because he's lonely or lovesick or whatever?”

“I'm not lonely.” I don't deny the second ailment because who knows? Maybe that's why my stomach feels like I've been riding the roller coaster at Annika's Apex all day.

“Well, I'm sorry.” Abe stands and pushes in the chair so hard it knocks into the table. “Oh, wait. No, I'm not. I'm busy too. And I don't have time for this.”

He turns to leave.

“Annika hacked my e-mail.” I rehearsed these words before the bathroom mirror, but they still sound strange. Abe must think so too because he stops. I quickly continue. “That's why I didn't know about the second Music Meltdown plan this morning or about the other two plans you tried to make when I didn't show. I never got your messages. Because Annika deleted them from my account.”

“And why would she do that?” Abe asks, like he's an adult and I'm the five-year-old he keeps trying to make understand that monsters have better things to do than hang out in the narrow space between my bed and the floor.

“I don't think she wanted me to go with you guys. At least not today.”

“Why not?” Gabby asks.

“Because I think she wanted me with her.”

Lemon's head tilts to the right. “Why?”

One of the first things I decided when trying to make sense of everything I learned this afternoon was that, no matter what, I wouldn't tell anyone about Annika's top-secret Mystery project. She made it clear that doing so would definitely get me expelled, and I don't want to risk that—especially now. Even more importantly, I don't want to risk it happening to my friends.

I feel good about that decision. What I don't feel as good about is the little white lie I tell instead.

“She just got in a prototype for the Kilter Painter 10,000,” I say.

“Like the paintball gun you used last semester?” Lemon asks.

“Yes, except way more powerful. She wanted me to try it out to make sure the Kommissary should stock it.”

“Why didn't she ask Ike to try it?” Abe asks, his back still to us. “He's a senior. He knows more.”

“He was busy.” One by one, the lies just roll off my tongue. “Anyway, while I was at her house—”

“You were at her house?” Abe fires a look at me over his shoulder. “Why couldn't you try the rifle on campus?”

“In case it backfired, or was too dangerous. Anyway, while I was there I went upstairs to use the bathroom. And while I was upstairs, I passed by Annika's bedroom. Her door was open. I peeked in before I knew it was her room and saw her computer. On the screen was a half-written K-Mail message. To me.” I pause. “From Elinor.”

“And?” Abe prompts after another pause.

“And
she
was Elinor. Or pretending to be, anyway.”

“How do you know?” Lemon asks.

“If she accessed your account, maybe she accessed Elinor's, too,” Gabby says. “And was reading a message Elinor was in the middle of writing.”

“She did access Elinor's account,” I say. “But she was definitely the one doing the writing.”

I explain everything else I saw. The three in-boxes. The alert that popped up when Annika, using her K-Pak, moved Abe's message from my in-box to her master trash. The other deleted, intercepted messages. Elinor's note from three weeks ago.

“Weird,” Gabby says when I'm done.

Abe doesn't say anything, but he does turn back around.

“There were no other student accounts on her computer?” Lemon asks.

“Not that I saw,” I say.

“But why the focus on you and Elinor?” Gabby asks.

“I don't know about Elinor,” Lemon says, “but like it or not, Seamus is a standout student. I'm sure Annika wants to make sure his attention stays on Kilter—and only Kilter.”

I actually haven't figured that part out yet, but it's better he suggests this theory than me.