“It’s interesting that the Wolvermolester is so easy to hack,” I tell Yolo.
Yolo doesn’t seem to think it’s all that interesting. He’s standing in the doorway.
Principal Wolverson’s username turned out to be his faculty ID handle, which I know from the emails he sends to the student body. It took me a few tries to guess his password, but when I typed in the mascot—hawks—plus the upcoming school year, I got it.
“Okay,” I tell Yolo, clicking on a folder markedSECURITYand then on one markedFOOTAGE. Another click, and there’s a folder marked withAUGUSTof this year.
Yolo pads across the floor and hops up onto the desk next to me. I’m standing up, remote in hand. “The situation with technology all seems very arbitrary, Yo. Like howthisstuff works fine, but I can’t text anyone or get online.”
Yolo cocks his head.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess it’s notthatarbitrary.” The security system is internal, on a closed loop. But anything that might link me, physically or mentally, to the outside world at large (phones, internet, roads, the school alarm) doesn’t work.
“Here we go,” I say, and I click on the file.
37.
once
“Today’s the day,” Syd said.
“You don’t have to jump, Ella,” I said. “It’s not even a Friday.” It was a Tuesday night, dusky-gold.
“If you go now, it will be easier,” Syd said. “The rest of the team isn’t here.”
“Other people are, though.” Ella’s eyes were wide.
“Not anyone you know,” Syd said. “This will be good practice. Then you can do it again next Friday. You’ll be the first freshman to make the jump.”
“She looks scared,” Sam said quietly to me.
“I know.”
This hadn’t been the plan. Ella wasn’t supposed to be here at all. But that, I knew, was my fault.
Syd and I had seen Ella on the way to pick up Sam and Alex to hang out and, without thinking, I’d pulled over and asked if she wanted to come with us. She’d been hanging out in her yard, eating a Popsicle barefoot and watering her mom’s flowers. Something about her tugged at me. I remembered being a freshman in high school and wanting in so badly. I couldn’t drive past and wave and leave her there. After driving around for a while, we’d ended up at the jump somehow.
“All right,” Syd said. “Who’s going to go first, then? Show Ella how it’s done?”
“I’ll go,” Alex said.
“Boring,” Syd said. “You’ve done it a million times before. Sam, you do it. You’ve only jumped once.”
“Thatyouknow about,” Sam said, and he slid his hand around my waist. I leaned into him.
“Fine,” Alex said. “I’ll climb up into one of the trees andthenjump.” His dark eyes glimmered with mischief. “Willthatbe dangerous enough for you?”
“Hmmm.” Syd drummed her fingers across her lips. “Let’s see.”
Ella made her way closer to the edge to look at the jump. Her back was skinny, shoulders so tense I could see every muscle through her thin cotton tank top.
I shouldn’t have brought her. I hadn’t realized how hard Syd was going to push her to jump.
But I thought I knew why.
Ella had beaten Syd at a workout for the first time a few days ago. She’d caught up with Syd and me with a mile to go. Syd had started to push the pace, relentless. I couldn’t keep up with both of them, so I’d seen the finish from behind, Ella matching Syd stride for stride and then, at the end, pulling out ahead. When I got to the marquee, Coach was patting Ella on the back, and she was beaming at him, at me, at Syd, at everyone. Syd had said, “Nice run, Ella,” and then told me later, “I had cramps. Stupid period.”
But I wasn’t so sure. I hadn’t seen anyone give Syd that kind of serious competition in a long time. I never had.
