Need (19 page)

The phone drops from my hand. Everything inside me squeezes until it feels like it's going to burst.

“Did you hear what I said, Kaylee?” Nate asks, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He's off balance. Scared. So am I. “I love you.”

I step back.

“I've loved you for forever. Since that day at the party with the cupcake when you didn't care about who my brother was or how good he is at sports or how much my parents worship him.”

I can barely breathe.

And Nate's words don't stop. “Loving you is the only really good thing about me. I hated what was happening to you. First DJ, then your dad, and then your mom and all of her issues. None of it was fair. You deserve to be happy.”

“Love?” I yell, ignoring the small, vulnerable ache in my chest. “You don't know anything about love. All you care about is getting attention and being important because you're jealous of your brother. You're selfish. You always have been. If you aren't in the center, you—” I stop the flood of words as I hear what I'm saying. All the nasty insults that have been hurled at me, the accusations that created wounds that still haven't healed, I'm now throwing at Nate. The shield of anger cracks and shame floods through. “I'm sorry, Nate. No matter what you've done, you don't deserve me saying those things.”

“You're wrong.” He thrusts his hands into his front pockets. “I deserve worse. And you're right about me being selfish. I win in that department. I even have Gina Ferguson beat, which takes effort. Gotta give me points for doing something all the way, right?”

“You're not selfish.” Guilt smears across my rage. “You're the only one who stood by me through everything. You were there when my dad left. You got yourself tested as a donor without me ever asking. And—”

“Don't.” Nate shakes his head, walks to my bedroom window, and stares into the distance. “Don't give me credit. You always do that. You see the best in me and I let you, because it would suck large if you saw the real me. I suspected that there was something really off with NEED after we looked at it, but you said you weren't going to ask for anything. And I'm such a nice guy that I didn't really care if someone at NEED started blackmailing other people we knew as long as the people behind it would follow through on their guarantee to help me track down your father. So when I found a hyperlink buried in the Terms and Conditions that had the same email address that the survey used, I decided to send an email reminding them that they hadn't yet fulfilled their promise and since they hadn't, I'd like them to consider using NEED to help DJ.”

He shrugs. “I figured, what was the harm? After all, they were going to start raising the stakes for need request fulfillments. Why not have them make one of the requirements be that users take a simple medical test? When they said they found my suggestion worthy of consideration, I knew I couldn't let you shut them down. Not without seeing if they would really follow through. I didn't know they were going to threaten you. Turns out, they decided against having students volunteer to be tested and gave me your father's phone number to thank me for my help. And yeah—I got myself tested to be a donor. Do you know why?” He turns to face me.

“Because you want DJ to live.”

“That's the brave answer. That's the one I wanted you to believe because I needed you to.” Nate squares his shoulders and sets his jaw. “I got tested because I didn't believe there was a chance in hell that I'd turn up as a match. No risk, all reward. How heroic is that?”

“It doesn't matter,” I say, trying to decide if I believe my own words. “You got tested. You did what most people in this town never considered doing. It doesn't matter why or that you're not a match.”

“That's what you think.” He takes another step forward and searches my face. After several long seconds he says, “Whoever sent me the survey knew I wanted to help you, but they also found out that I had a secret. A secret I'd do almost anything to keep. That's why they picked me. If I gave them the information they requested, I'd be rewarded. They'd work to find a donor for DJ. But if I refused, they threatened to send the information they found to you.”

I don't understand. “Me? Why me?”

“Because they found out what a coward I really am. My test to be a donor for DJ came back different than I said.” He takes a deep breath as his eyes lock with mine. “I'm a match.”

B
RYAN
'
S FINGERS DIG INTO
the steering wheel as he drives past the house for a second time. He's glad the snow is coming down this hard. No one will question why he's going so slow. They'll think he's being careful, not trying to see in through the front window. The lights are on. There aren't any cars in the driveway, but someone must be home.

The street is quiet. He looks for signs of someone like his father. Someone who doesn't wait for several inches of snow to pile up before shoveling. Someone who could jeopardize his anonymity and give him a good excuse to steer the car toward home.

But all the garage doors remain down.

Nothing is going to happen, he tells himself as he fingers the syringe. He's going to waste a night sitting in this damn car, and that's totally okay. He's almost convinced himself of this when his phone buzzes.

He's inside with Kaylee. I know it. Just wait until he comes out, and offer him a ride. Couldn't be easier.

Damn. Maybe it will still be okay. Maybe Jack's wrong or Nate will stay inside. Bryan tightens his hold on the syringe and hopes.

S
O FAR, SO GOOD
.

Sydney finishes typing, hits Enter, then does a quick scroll through the NEED message board. So smart. The whole system is so freakin' smart. Too bad he wasn't the one to come up with it. Of course, even if he had dreamed up the idea, he would never have thought it would fly. It's amazing to him how many people haven't figured it out. How many still think it's a game. Maybe he's the only one who bothers to look at the number of network users. Maybe he's the only one who's seen it plateau and then go down.

Amanda.

The first drop had to be due to her. He feels bad for her and her family. Who wouldn't? But despite that, he can't help admiring the system that led to her death and whoever conceived it. Dribble out rewards for almost no price. Because, really, sending out invites to a new website and convincing your friends to play ain't worth jack. At least you wouldn't think so. And just by sending a few emails you get a reward. Something real. Something that makes you want more. Why wouldn't you, since you just got something for free? Or so you think. That's what they want you to think. Only those who are totally brain-dead could believe something so naive. Nothing is free. Not one thing in this life. Sydney's known that forever. How everyone else missed it is beyond him. And clearly they did miss it, because the ticker for need requests and fulfillments continues to rise.

Smart. Whoever created NEED is crazy smart. And probably flat-out crazy. The two aren't mutually exclusive.

But Sydney's smart too, and his crazy only goes so far. He can watch and learn and game the system while pretending to be stupid like the rest of them. He'll skim what he can from it before it implodes. So far he's racked up decent cash for his part. Almost enough to get out of this town.

His inbox dings. It's the message he's been waiting for. He reads the instructions and nods as he clicks back on to NEED's main screen.

NETWORK MEMBERS—686

NEEDS PENDING—684

NEEDS FULFILLED—220

Another member has bit the dust.

Sydney unlocks his desk drawer and grabs his grandfather's hunting knife. Just in case. He slides the knife into his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. With one last glance at the numbers on the screen, Sydney heads out to follow instructions and vaguely wonders if anyone will notice the drop in members. If not, he's pretty certain they'll notice the next one.

“Y
OU
'
RE A MATCH
?” The words are a whisper as I reach out and take Nate's hand. Part of me needs to make sure he's real. That this conversation is real.

“I'm not a perfect match. Only five points out of six on the antigen scale,” Nate explains, although the difference doesn't matter. Six-point matches outside of a family relationship are rare. Five points is as good as DJ is going to get unless Dad turns up, and even then it still might be the best. This is great news.

But it's not. At least, not to Nate. Suddenly, I get what he's saying. “You don't want to save DJ.”

He shakes his head. “That's not true, Kaylee. You know I do.”

“You'd let DJ die?” I yank my hand to free it from Nate's grasp, but his fingers bite into my wrist, not letting go.

“No. Kaylee, why do you think I've been working so hard to help you find your father? I want DJ to live. I'm just too scared to go through with the operation.” He shakes his head. “When my parents and I read up on the surgery and the risks . . .”

“The risks are minimal,” I say. I've studied just about everything that's been written about the physical effects of donating a kidney. I even talked to last year's school counselor, Dr. McGoran, because they said there were psychological considerations as well. “You're healthy and you don't need both kidneys to live a full life. I can talk to your parents if you want or have DJ's doctor talk to your parents—they'll realize you'll be okay. They might give their consent and—”

“It's not just them, Kaylee. Although it's a miracle they care about it at all.” Nate drops my hand and stalks toward the window. “It's me. I know all the statistics and have read all the research too. But the more I read, the less I wanted to go through with it. I'm not like you. I can't hear about surgery and pain and possible infections and future complications and say sign me up.”

“Yes, but—”

“It's not that dangerous,” he says, cutting me off. “It's done every day. It's safe and I'd be giving a great gift to your brother. I've told myself all of it, and even if my parents gave their okay, I still couldn't do it.” Nate lets out a bitter laugh. “When you get to the bottom of it, as I told you, I'm a coward. And I hate that I know that about myself and I'm not willing to do what it would take to change it. So, when this government program email promised me something in return for my help, I took them up on it. Instead of asking for money or cars or a trip around the world, I asked them to find a donor for DJ. Is that so wrong?”

Yes.

No.

Yes.

I can't think. Anger. Sympathy. Hate. Confusion. I try to process it all. But Nate stands there staring at me, as if he's waiting for the worst. “There's something else you aren't telling me, isn't there?”

“Like what?” The lie is obvious.

“The number you gave me. NEED gave it to you. They gave it to you today.” On the NEED website when a request is made, the site gives you a requirement to fulfill. Once that happens, the site member gets what they asked for and they get it quick. “What did you do for NEED, Nate? What did you do to get them to give you my father's phone number?”

“I told them you were calling the police to report the site. I'm the reason they shut it down.” I gasp and Nate explains, “I told myself that I needed to do something for them so they'd give me your father's phone number, but really I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“I was scared you were right.” He walks back to the window. “That they knew about Amanda's allergy and orchestrated her death. I was worried they might do the same to me or someone I care about because you were calling the cops. And I told myself that if you were wrong, I didn't want to lose the chance to track down your father. If I wasn't willing to save DJ myself, I had to find the person who could.”

All reasons I hate because I can understand them. I can see the rationalization for some of the things Nate did, but I'm angry. Angry at his lack of trust. At how foolish I looked this morning talking to Officer Shepens. At the way everyone, including my mother and Dr. Jain, thinks I'm crazy, again. At how his betrayal of me to NEED made my mother doubt me all over again. She's threatening to authorize a new treatment plan because she thinks I'm mentally unbalanced. All because of him.

“So now what?” Nate demands. “Tell me what I have to do to fix this and I will. I'll do whatever you want.”

No. He won't save my brother. He doesn't love me no matter what he believes. He loves that I need him. But I don't. Not really. Because despite what I thought, what I counted on, he has never been there for me. There is no safety with him. I've always been alone. I just didn't know how isolated I was until now.

“Get out.”

“Don't tell me to leave.” Nate moves toward me but stops when I shift out of his reach. “Not with NEED out there doing who knows what. I'll go downstairs and stay out of your way, or work with you to help shut it down, or maybe we could—”

“Get out!” I throw his phone at him. “Take your promises and your lies and go find someone else to tell them to. How about you call your brother so the two of you can do NEED's work together? You deserve each other.”

His shoulders hunch and I know I've scored a direct hit when he back away.

He reaches the door, stops, and says, “Be careful, Kaylee. Whoever is behind NEED has to be here in Nottawa. And they're watching us.”

And then he's gone. I start to tremble as my understanding of Nate's betrayal deepens. Sinking to the floor, I wrap my arms around my legs. Nate's gone, and so is everything I believed about our friendship. He lied about being a match and lied to me about the website and lied to cover everything up until he had no choice but to tell the truth.