Need Page 9

  “Right,” I say. “And unlike the other websites, this one asks you to do things in exchange for getting what you said you wanted.”

  “Like what?” Officer Shepens asks.

  “Nate was asked to invite a bunch of friends to the site. That’s why he sent me the invitation. Here . . .” I walk around Officer Shepens, go to my email, and let out a sigh of relief. Nate’s email is still there. Proof that NEED is real. “This is the email I received when he invited me.”

  My mother takes DJ’s arm to hold him back as Officer Shepens reads the email, then asks, “Do you mind if I send myself a copy of this?”

  “Go ahead.” While he hits Forward, I tell him that there were only about a hundred users when I first logged on and that by the next day just about everyone was on the site. “That’s when I think people started getting asked to do things other than sending emails in order to get what they requested.” I describe the photos and explain that the site assigns anonymous profile names so there is no way to tell who is posting what.

  Officer Shepens frowns. “And you think the site asked people to dig the hole in your yard and deliver cookies to Amanda?” When I nod he asks, “Have you heard of anyone performing those kinds of tasks to get rewards? Maybe some of your friends?”

  “No.” Other than Nate, I don’t have any real friends. Not anymore.

  “How about you, Nate?” Officer Shepens shifts his gaze. “Have you been asked to do anything unusual by this website?”

  “No, sir, but I got invited early on and I haven’t really talked about the site with anyone other than Kaylee. The site asks people not to talk about it.”

  Officer Shepens nods. “And have you seen the photographs Kaylee described to us?”

  I hold my breath as Nate looks at me, because I don’t know the answer.

  “Well, there are lots of photographs,” Nate says. “People keep posting pictures of phones or movie stars or crazy things they want. It’s hard to keep track.”

  “So you haven’t seen them.”

  “No.” Nate looks away as Officer Shepens’s phone beeps. “But if Kaylee says she saw them, I believe her.”

  “I’m sure you do.” The phone beeps again. Officer Shepens pulls it out and looks at the display. “I have to take this. This is Shepens,” he says as he walks toward the front door.

  “Talk about the wrong day to sleep in.” Nate takes a step toward me. “I guess I should have looked harder at the posts on the message board when I got home last night, but pictures of shoes and links for thousand-dollar sunglasses don’t really turn me on. After a couple of minutes, I logged off and went to bed.”

  “It’s okay,” I say. Although I’m certain it’s not okay. And by the expression Officer Shepens wears as he returns, I’m pretty sure nothing is.

  “I apologize, but I have to go.” Officer Shepens slides his phone back into his pocket and zips up his jacket.

  “Wait.” I take a step forward. “You can’t go. Not yet. What about Amanda and her family and DJ and everyone on that social media site? You can’t leave and do nothing.”

  The desperation I’ve kept at bay breaks free. I shake off the hand that reaches for me. My mother? Nate? DJ? I don’t care.

  “Kaylee, I plan on checking on the site. I do,” Officer Shepens tells me. “But I have to go. There are more important things going on right now than what you think you might have seen . . .”

  Might have seen. The words bounce in my head and I go still. Whatever else he says about not filing the report until there is tangible evidence is lost in the haze of that one sentence.

  He doesn’t believe me.

  I look to my mother as she thanks him for keeping this situation quiet.

  “I’m not crazy,” I whisper as Office Shepens walks back toward the front door. I say it again louder as I hurry after him. “The site is real. The photographs are real.”

  He is halfway out the door when he turns back and says that he believes I’m telling the truth as I know it. That he won’t forget what I’ve said, but that as much as he would like to stay and discuss the matter further, he really has to go.

  Officer Shepens looks like he wants to say more. Instead, he digs into his other pocket, pulls out his card, and hands it to me. He tells me to call if I need anything. His eyes meet mine just before he heads out the door, and for a moment I’m sure I recognize something I see every day when I look in the mirror. Or maybe I just think I see it because it’s what I am feeling right now as I stand in the open doorway watching him drive away.

  Fear.

  Ethan

  HE HEARS THE SIREN and smiles. At any moment the car will come over the hill. The lights will flash like they do in the movies when something bad happens. And this was bad. As bad as he could make it.

  He knows he should be far away by now. A real mercenary doesn’t stay around to admire his work. He goes in, gets his hands dirty, gets out, and cleans up without being seen.

  Hanging around after the job is done is a sure-fire way to lose rank in the game. Only a beginner makes that mistake.

  But this isn’t about improving a rank or rising in fame on the scoreboard. This is real. What he did is real. The screams of “Oh my God” that clawed the cold morning air as he ran through the yards and into the woods were real. And wonderful.

  So what if he threw up after he finished? He was professional enough to leave the scene before hurling. Next time he won’t eat breakfast beforehand. There’s no breakfast on the premission checklist. Weapons and maps, yes. Food, no.

  Ethan smiles again. Maybe after he gets out of high school he can join the CIA or FBI or the NSA. They should be able to use a guy with his skills. He could jet from one state to another or country to country, getting paid to covertly eliminate threats. Yeah, that sounds like a perfect use of his talent. He’ll have to start looking into how those agencies recruit. Maybe ask his dad to take him to the gun range to work on his shooting. It’s never too early to start planning for the future. At least, that’s what his parents always say.

  He shifts his position behind the bush where he’s hiding as the siren gets louder until finally the car flies by. Okay, it didn’t go nearly as fast as he thought it should. But faster than any cop around here would normally drive. That will have to suffice. For now.

  He picks up his mission supply bag and wishes he could see everyone’s face when they read the note he’s been charged to leave behind.

  I told you that you’d be sorry.

  He notices a streak of red—a piece of evidence—that he left on the icy ground where he was kneeling, and kicks some snow over it. Then he heads toward home with a spring in his step. If they aren’t sorry now, he has a feeling NEED will make sure they will be very, very soon.

  Kaylee

  I DON’T WAIT for breakfast or for my mother to tell me that we have to talk or to announce whatever consequences might result from Officer Shepens’s visit. As soon as I close the front door I hurry back to the kitchen, grab my laptop, and run upstairs. My mother yells for me to stop. But I don’t. Why would I? It’s not like she’s going to come after me. She has DJ to worry about.

  After shutting the door to my room, I set my laptop back on the desk and try the Web address again and again and again. Still nothing.

  I want to scream. Where did it go?

  “Hey.” The door swings open and Nate walks in carrying a plate filled with waffles and two forks. “You okay? Your mom sent me up here to check on you.”

  “Really?’ I study his face, see the dare-you-to-call-me-on-it look in his eyes, and the flicker of hope his words sparked in me dies.

  “I also let her know you really aren’t making this website up. She didn’t want to talk about it while your brother was around, which I understand, but I figured with everything that happened in the past she might want a little more reassurance. You know?”

  Yeah. I know. No matter how much I’ve wanted a fresh start and a second chance, I haven’t gotten it. And I’m con
tinuing to pay the price. And maybe so will DJ if NEED is behind Amanda’s death and the horrible prank that’s been played on him.

  “So.” Nate puts down the plate of waffles next to the laptop. “Are you okay?”

  It’s been so long since I’ve been okay, I don’t know what it feels like anymore. “I’m not the one who’s dead, so I guess I’m mostly fine.” I don’t want him to see the hurt I feel. Because really, it isn’t important. Especially not when I think of Amanda and DJ and NEED. What do my feelings matter in the middle of all that?

  I click on the bookmark again and come up with the same blank screen.

  “The website is still down?” Nate asks, stabbing a waffle quarter.

  “Yeah. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

  “Websites go down all the time,” Nate says through a mouthful of waffle.

  “I know, but normally there would be an error message or something saying that the server is down or that the site has been removed. Wouldn’t there be?” That’s what happens when the school server gets overloaded or one of my brother’s online games gets interrupted. You see a note about a system update or a broken link. Here there’s nothing. “And the timing bugs me. What are the odds that there’s a glitch or someone decided to pull down the site at the same time Officer Shepens arrived?”

  Nate offers me the waffle on his fork, but I shake my head.

  Nate shoves the piece into his mouth and shrugs. “Coincidences happen all the time.”

  “But . . .”

  “But.” Nate holds up an empty fork. “You seeing photos of a bakery box on Amanda’s front step and the grave in your yard takes this way beyond coincidence.”

  “You believe me.” Relief and desperate joy fill me. As do tears. I blink them back as Nate frowns.

  “Of course I believe you. You must be more freaked than I thought. Kaylee . . .” He holds out a hand and waits for me to take it. And I do. His warm fingers close over mine and he tugs me to my feet. “We’re a team. Period. I wasn’t there for you the way I should have been last year.”

  I shake my head. “What are you talking about? I would never have made it through my dad’s leaving and DJ’s illness without you.”

  “You’d have made it. You’re stronger than you know. I don’t have your bravery.”

  “You’re friends with me. That’s pretty brave.” Popular guy stays friends with unhinged girl. That sounds pretty darn heroic to me.

  I try to pull my hand away, but Nate only tightens his grip. “No, it isn’t. I just understand you.”

  He does. Aside from my mother, Dr. Jain, the school nurse, and the principal, Nate is the only one who has heard the truth. And maybe more important, he has kept my secret. The teachers still think I made myself sick out of concern for DJ after he was first diagnosed. Imaginary migraines and forcing myself to throw up weren’t symptoms of lack of sleep and stress. They were methods of getting sent to the nurse’s office, where I might be able to gain access to information about my classmates’ blood types.

  “Hey.” There’s that thing in his expression again that makes my breath catch. He’s still the Nate I’ve always known. Dependable. Irreverent. Essential. But the flicker in his eyes suggests something more. “We’ll get through this like we always do. Together.”

  I stop trying to pull my hand away and allow him to web his fingers through mine. The connection pushes back some of my anxiety. Anxiety of another kind fills me as Nate leans toward me. His eyes search my face as if looking for an answer to a question—one that I haven’t wanted to think about and certainly don’t have an answer for. All I know is that I don’t want to lose Nate.

  He smells of waffles. He puts a hand on my cheek and I can’t help but lean into his touch. It comforts even as it terrifies. I stand stiff and awkward and feeling like an idiot as his mouth brushes over mine. The touch is so quick and light that I can almost believe I imagined it. But the flutter in my gut and the way Nate is drawing me close again belie that thought. Only this time, I know I can’t just stand there. Nate won’t let me. I have to make a choice.

  “Yo, Kaylee.” DJ’s voice calls a second before my door swings open. The warning gives me enough time to jerk back. Away from the choice I’m not sure I’m ready to make. My brother doesn’t seem to notice my discomfort or Nate’s frown as he makes a beeline for my laptop. “Did the website go back up? Did anyone else . . .”

  Die.

  The unspoken word hangs in the air.

  “The site is still down.” Nate puts an arm around DJ and says, “Who knows, the people behind it might have run out of money for all the gifts they’ve been giving and decided to shut it down for good. Which is probably for the best, although I kind of wish I’d requested a leather jacket or a snowmobile. Now I’ll never get what I asked for unless I convince our school shrink that I’m too emotionally distressed to take the physics exam. She likes me, though. It might work.”

  Following Nate’s lead, I keep my tone light. “Fat chance. You’ll have to actually study for your final instead of counting on someone hacking into the system and cheating for you.”

  “You asked the website to cheat?” DJ asks, clearly torn between shock at Nate’s dishonesty and awe.

  “I was asking for assistance in raising my grade,” Nate clarifies.

  “That’s cheating.” DJ isn’t fooled. “You’re too smart to cheat.”

  “What’s smarter—spending hours studying to take a test in a subject you’ll never use again or finding a way to bypass all the studying and still come out looking like a genius?” Nate smiles. “Sometimes being smart is about getting the desired result without having to do something you hate in order to get it.”

  “That’s the kind of thinking that makes NEED so successful,” I say. “People don’t want to earn enough money or put in the work to get what they want. They’re looking for an easy way out and NEED gives it to them. The person who delivered the cookies to Amanda probably thought it was a birthday gift or some minor prank. They thought they were getting something for nothing. They were wrong.”

  “Yeah.” Nate nods. “But what if . . .”

  “DJ, what are you doing up there?” Mom yells.

  “Ugh.” DJ frowns and turns to me. “I forgot. Mom told me you have to come downstairs so you can talk. I’m supposed to ask Nate to keep me company so he doesn’t get in the way. Mom wants to talk to you alone.”

  “Great.” Me and Mom talking alone is never a good thing.

  “She’s not mad, Kaylee. After you left, Nate talked to her. That made a difference,” DJ says brightly. “She’s not angry or upset like all the other times. Mom’s on your side.”

  I’m not sure I share his optimism. Too much has happened for me to believe the mother who was so suspicious of me is now my champion. But it would be nice.

  Nate doesn’t suffer from my skepticism as he cheerfully announces, “It sounds like my work here is done. I probably should get home before my mother realizes I’m not around to empty the dishwasher. DJ, tell your mom Kaylee’s on her way. I just have one last thing I want to talk to her about.”

  DJ doesn’t look happy to be shooed away, but he goes out of the room yelling to our mother.

  Nate turns to me when DJ is out of earshot. “I’ll keep checking to see if the website goes up. As long as it stays offline, nothing else bad can happen.”

  “Unless people got their assignments last night or early this morning and don’t realize the site has gone down.”

  “Leave it to you to find the black lining. But you’re right, which means I’ll just have to make sure everyone has heard the site went down. If there’s no reward there’s no reason to act on whatever task NEED handed out.” Nate gives my hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about DJ. He’s going to be fine.”

  With one last check to make sure NEED is still offline, I yell to my mother that I’ll be there in a minute, and I walk Nate downstairs to the front door.

  “If I learn anything, I’ll give you a call
.” He leans forward and I hold my breath as he kisses me on the cheek. “Good luck, but I don’t think you’ll need it.”

  With a smile that makes my heart tilt, he disappears out into the cold. Once the door closes, I go in search of my mother, feeling more confident than I have in a long time. DJ still needs a transplant, but maybe with Nate’s and my mother’s help . . .

  I walk into the living room and stop in my tracks when I see my mother isn’t alone. Standing in the middle of the room, talking with her in hushed tones, is Dr. Amelia Jain.

  When she spots me, Dr. Jain steps forward. “Hello, Kaylee. It’s good to see you. I hope you don’t mind, but your mother called because she thinks there’s a problem and she wanted my help.”

  I do mind, because I know a setup when I see one. DJ and Nate are wrong. My mother doesn’t believe NEED exists. The problem Dr. Jain is here to deal with is me.

  Sameena

  SAMEENA STANDS AT the window of her room. When her parents decided to move to Nottawa they let her help pick their new house. She fell in love with this place when she saw the second-story corner room. Its big windows face the woods that edge their backyard. The woods seem magical, especially in winter when they glisten with ice and snow. Usually, she barely glances out the window that faces Mrs. Markham’s fenced-in yard where those barking beagles live. But today she can’t stop looking.

  The screams woke her. Last night, Sameena finally let her father look over her homework. It was late, but he insisted on helping her fix the incorrect answers. It took hours. There were so many of them, and no matter how many times he explained the solutions, she still didn’t understand.

  He said it was because she was tired. And she was. She thanked him and got into bed, but the dogs were still barking.

  And barking.

  And barking.

  She just wanted them to be quiet. She even opened the window when she saw Mrs. Markham come outside to check on her pups and yell that the dogs needed to stop.