He blinked lazily, reached up, and pulled the earphones from his ears. Sorry, babe, he drawled in that wonderful, deep voice of his. I couldnt hear you. He gave me a once-over and smirked. Are you supposed to be the tutor?
Um, yes. I straightened and smoothed out my remaining shreds of dignity. Im Meghan. Mr. Sanders asked me to help you out with your programming project.
He continued to smirk at me. Arent you that hick girl who lives out in the swamp? Do you even know what a computer is?
My face flamed, and my stomach contracted into a tight little ball. Okay, so I didnt have a great computer at home. That was why I spent most of my after-school time here, in the lab, doing homework or just surfing online. In fact, I was hoping to make it into ITT Tech in a couple of years. Programming and Web design came easily to me. I knew how to work a computer, dammit.
My face flamed, and my stomach contracted into a tight little ball. Okay, so I didnt have a great computer at home. That was why I spent most of my after-school time here, in the lab, doing homework or just surfing online. In fact, I was hoping to make it into ITT Tech in a couple of years. Programming and Web design came easily to me. I knew how to work a computer, dammit.
But, in the face of Scotts criticism, I could only stammer: Y-yes, I do. I mean, I know a lot. He gave me a dubious look, and I felt the sting of wounded pride. I had to prove to him that I wasnt the backward hillbilly he thought I was. Here, Ill show you, I offered, and reached toward the keyboard on the table.
Then something weird happened.
I hadnt even touched the keys when the computer screen blipped on. When I paused, my fingers hovering over the board, words began to scroll across the blue screen.
Meghan Chase. We see you. Were coming for you.
I froze. The words continued, those three sentences, over and over. Meghan Chase. We see you. Were coming for you. Meghan Chase we see you were coming for you. Meghan Chase we see you were coming for you over and over until it completely filled the screen.
Scott leaned back in his seat, glaring at me, then at the computer. What is this? he asked, scowling. What the hell are you doing, freak? Pushing him aside, I shook the mouse, punched Escape, and pressed Ctrl/Alt/Del to stop the endless string of words. Nothing worked.
Suddenly, without warning, the words stopped, and the screen went blank for a moment. Then, in giant letters, another message flashed into view.
SCOTT WALDRON PEEKS AT GUYS IN THE SHOWER ROOM, ROFL.
I gasped. The message began to scroll across all the computer screens, wending its way around the room, with me powerless to stop it. The other students at the desks paused, shocked for a moment, then began to point and laugh.
I could feel Scotts gaze like a knife in my back. Fearfully, I turned to find him glaring at me, chest heaving. His face was crimson, probably from rage or embarrassment, and he jabbed a finger in my direction.
You think thats funny, swamp girl? Do you? Just wait. Ill show you funny. You just dug your own grave, bitch.
He stormed out of the room with the echo of laughter trailing behind him. A few of the students gave me grins, applause, and thumbs-up; one of them even winked at me.
My knees were shaking. I dropped into a chair and stared blankly at the computer screen, which suddenly flicked off, taking the offensive message with it, but the damage was already done. My stomach roiled, and there was a stinging sensation behind my eyes.
I buried my face in my hands. Im dead. Im so dead. Thats it, game over, Meghan. I wonder if Mom will let me move to a boarding school in Canada?
A faint snicker cut through my bleak thoughts, and I raised my head.
Crouched atop the monitor, silhouetted black against the open window, was a tiny, misshapen thing. Spindly and emaciated, it had long, thin arms and huge batlike ears. Slitted green eyes regarded me across the table, gleaming with intelligence. It grinned, showing off a mouthful of pointed teeth that glowed with neon-blue light, before it vanished, like an image on the computer screen.
I sat there a moment, staring at the spot where the creature had been, my mind spinning in a dozen directions at once. Okay. Great. Not only does Scott hate me, Im starting to hallucinate, as well. Meghan Chase, victim of a nervous breakdown the day before she turned sixteen. Just send me off to the loony bin, cause I sure wont survive another day at school.
Dragging myself upright, I shuffled, zombielike, into the hall.
Robbie waited for me by the lockers, a soda bottle in each hand. Hey, princess, he greeted as I shambled past. Youre out early. Howd the tutoring session go?
Dont call me that, I muttered, banging my forehead into my locker. And the tutoring session went fabulous. Please kill me now.
That good, huh? He tossed me a diet soda, which I barely caught, and twisted open his root beer in a hiss of foam. I could hear the grin in his voice. Well, I suppose I could say I told you so
I glared daggers at him, daring him to continue.
The smile vanished from his face. butI wont. He pursed his lips, trying not to grin. Causethat would just be wrong.
What are you doing here, anyway? I demanded. The buses have all left by now. Were you lurking by the computer lab, like some creepy stalker guy?
Rob coughed loudly and took a long sip of his root beer. Hey, I was wondering, he continued brightly, what are you doing for your birthday tomorrow?
Hiding in my room, with the covers over my head, I thought, but shrugged and yanked open my rusty locker. I dunno. Whatever. I dont have anything planned. I grabbed my books, stuffed them in my bag, and slammed the locker door. Why?
Robbie gave me that smile that always makes me nervous, a grin that stretched his entire face so that his eyes narrowed to green slits. Ive got a bottle of champagne I managed to swipe from the wine cabinet, he said in a low voice, waggling his eyebrows. How bout I come by your place tomorrow? We can celebrate your birthday in style.
Id never had champagne. I did try a sip of Lukes beer once, and thought I was going to throw up. Mom sometimes brought home wine in a box, and that wasnt terrible, but I wasnt much of an alcohol drinker.
What the hell? Youre only sixteen once, right? Sure, I told Robbie, and gave a resigned shrug. Sounds good. Might as well go out with a bang.
He cocked his head at me. You okay, princess?
What could I tell him? That the captain of the football team, whom Id been crushing on for two years, was out to get me, that I was seeing monsters at every turn, and that the school computers were either hacked or possessed? Yeah, right. Id get no sympathy from the schools greatest prankster. Knowing Robbie, hed think it was a brilliant joke and congratulate me. If I didnt know him better, I might even think he set it up.
I just gave him a tired smile and nodded. Im fine. Ill see you tomorrow, Robbie.
See you then, princess.
Mom was late picking me up, again. The tutoring session was only supposed to be an hour, but I sat on the curb, in the drizzling rain, for another good half hour, contemplating my miserable life and watching cars pull in and out of the parking lot. Finally, her blue station wagon turned the corner and pulled to a stop in front of me. The front seat was filled with grocery bags and newspapers, so I slid into the back.
Meg, youre sopping wet, cried my mother, watching me from the rearview mirror. Dont sit on the upholsteryget a towel or something. Didnt you bring an umbrella?
Nice to see you, too, Mom, I thought, scowling as I grabbed a newspaper off the floor to put on the seat. No how was your day? or sorry Im late. I shouldve abandoned the stupid tutoring session with Scott and taken the bus home.
We drove in silence. People used to tell me I looked like her, that is, before Ethan came along and swallowed up the spotlight. To this day, I dont know where they saw the resemblance. Mom is one of those ladies who looks natural in a three-piece suit and heels; me, I like baggy cargo pants and sneakers. Moms hair hangs in thick golden ringlets; mine is limp and fine, almost silver if it catches the light just right. She looks regal and graceful and slender; I just look skinny.
Mom couldve married anyone in the worlda movie star, a rich business tycoonbut she chose Luke the pig farmer and a shabby little farm out in the sticks. Which reminded me
Hey, Mom. Dont forget, you have to take me to get a permit this weekend.
Oh, Meg. Mom sighed. I dont know. Ive got a lot of work this week, and your father wants me to help him fix the barn. Maybe next week.
Mom, you promised!
Meghan, please. Ive had a long day. Mom sighed again and looked back at me in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and ringed with smeared mascara. I shifted uncomfortably. Had Mom been crying?
Whats up? I asked cautiously.
She hesitated. There was anaccident at home, she began, and her voice made my insides squirm. Your father had to take Ethan to the hospital this afternoon. She paused again, blinking rapidly, and took a short breath. Beau attacked him.
What? My outburst made her start. Our German shepherd? Attacking Ethan? Is Ethan all right? I demanded, feeling my stomach twist in fear.
Yes. Mom gave me a tired smile. Very shaken up, but nothing serious, thank God.
I breathed a sigh of relief. What happened? I asked, still unable to believe our dog actually attacked a family member. Beau adored Ethan; he got upset if anyone even scolded my half brother. Id seen Ethan yanking on Beaus fur, ears, and tail, and the dog barely responded with a lick. Id seen Beau take Ethans sleeve and gently tug him back from the driveway. Our German shepherd might be a terror to squirrels and deer, but hed never even shown teeth to anyone in the house. Why did Beau go crazy like that?
Mom shook her head. I dont know. Luke saw Beau run up the stairs, then heard Ethan screaming. When he got to his room, he found the dog dragging Ethan across the floor. His face was badly scratched, and there were bite marks on his arm.