Rose rushed into the vacant gymnasium two minutes early. The place still reeked of after-practice sweat. She plopped down on the front row of the bleachers to catch her breath. The heels of her shoes were caked with mud. Perhaps she should have made a stop in the restroom to check her hair, but that would mean she would have to focus on the reason she checked her hair. Her mouth went dry even though she had just hit the water fountain on the way in. She needed another splash, and she stood just as Lisa strode in from the locker room.

“Good! You’re here.” Blonde hair still wet from the shower, Lisa pulled on her letter jacket over her white polo shirt while balancing her backpack. “Thought you might chicken out.”

Rose shook her head, her mouth too dry to answer.

“You all right?” Lisa’s warm smile didn’t really help.

“Yeah…I just…” Rose pointed to the water fountain attached to the wall on the other side of the gym.

“Hey, we’re gonna take care of you.” Lisa grabbed Rose’s hand and led her across the court, smiling the entire way. “We all get nervous when we step outside of our comfort zones, but I’m here for you, Rose. All four of us are.”

Rose swallowed three gulps of water. Then she closed her eyes and breathed out. The water gurgled next to her. She opened her eyes. Lisa filled her water bottle.

“Okay,” Lisa said. “So, where would you like to do this?”

“I dunno.” Where is the best place in the building for a firing squad?

“Want some makeup?”

Oh, God. Seriously? Was she going to have to do that?

“Nah. You’re too naturally pretty anyway,” Lisa continued. “Your skin is flawless. What do you do for it?”

“Not wear makeup,” she said with a shrug.

“Okay,” Lisa said warmly. “Let’s at least get your hair down.” Without asking, Lisa grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her. As Lisa’s fingers swept across the nape of her neck to take hold of the ponytail, Rose’s skin tingled. Had anyone ever touched her there before? Lisa rolled the band from Rose’s hair and brushed it out to hang down her back. Lisa turned her around and took a step away. “Wow. Look at that. You’re beautiful.”

Lisa didn’t need this condescending crap. The school and the world saw Rose, or didn’t to be more accurate, as a member of the hidden, the invisible. And, as long as she stayed in the shadows, everything balanced.

“Okay,” Lisa said, grabbing her hand again and leading her to the front row of the bleachers. “We’ll just shoot it.”

Rose took the last remaining steps toward her execution and sat.

Lisa put her water bottle on the bench next to Rose. “In case you need to hydrate.” She held out her hand. “Cell phone.”

Rose dug the phone out of her skirt pocket and turned it on. But when she punched the screen, nothing happened. Damn sweaty hands. She began breathing heavily.

Lisa squatted in front of her, grabbed her open hand, and wrapped her fingers around the water bottle. Rose gulped. Lisa took the bottle from her, and Rose rubbed her damp hand on her skirt. Then she flicked the screen, brought the video function up, and handed the phone to Lisa.

“Now we’re cooking. You know what you’re going to talk about, right?”

Rose snatched the water bottle and gulped again. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Let’s give it a try.” Lisa punched the screen and held the phone in front of her, aiming the lens at Rose. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Staring at the camera, Rose cleared her throat.

“Hi, I’m Rose Branter—” She grabbed the bottle again and drank. “Sorry.”

Lisa smiled at her. “It’s okay. I don’t have any place to be. And, it doesn’t have to be perfect on the first try.”

It wasn’t perfect on the second try, either. Or the thirteenth after Rose used the ladies’ room to rid herself of the second bottle of water she gulped down. But Lisa stayed with her, there for her, always supportive. The only pressure Rose felt was self-imposed. She would have quit, and this would end her personal story posted to BeckSpecks, but Lisa wouldn’t let her give up. By seven thirty, Lisa said she had something that would work great. The final video ran less than thirty seconds, and she offered to show Rose, but no way in hell would she watch herself on camera. Instead, Lisa checked it one more time, subjecting Rose to the sound of her own ridiculous, thin, shaky voice.

“Hi. I’m Rose Branter. I’m glad the kids in school are enjoying BeckSpecks. But now, perhaps, you can share it with other people outside of school too. Your parents, your teachers, your bosses at work. They all have stories to tell. Everyone does. Imagine the story of Beckinfield for the world to hear.”

But it wasn’t the world she cared about hearing this.

#

Her silent daughter ate across the table as Branter put the fork full of salad into her mouth. “I like your hair down like that.”

“Thank you.”

They both continued eating.

Branter couldn’t concentrate at work all day because her mind kept replaying the events of the previous dinner. She had mastered compartmentalization, yet last night’s betrayal so surprised her that she spent the entire day with a knot in her stomach. Though she never asked about its extent, she fully supported her daughter’s use of electronics outside of the house. She wouldn’t stunt Rose’s learning or prospects by keeping her away from the information age. But she had built the home in a service blackout zone as the ultimate air-gap environment. She never wired the property for anything, and nothing digital entered the house. Clear rules were established, but Rose blatantly violated them. And, oh, so casually. She made little attempt to hide the computer. How long had she done that? How long had Branter lived in the charade of the pristine, as she foolishly believed in the trust? But she wouldn’t take any of this out on her daughter. Though her house could never lose the taint, she could fix the way she overreacted.

“I’m sorry,” Branter said.

“No, Mom. It was me.” Rose put her fork down. “I know you want to know. I don’t think you’ll ask, and I thought about lying to you in case you did. But I love you, and you should know. Since freshman year.”

Branter leaned back. Four years. Four years of fabrication.

“I have the newest iPhone…my third one. And I have an iPad that’s a few years old. I bought them by saving up my allowance and tutoring. I’ve been bringing them home and hiding them under my mattress.”

Branter blinked while her mind whirled. How could she have missed this?

“Wh-why?” Branter finally asked. “You can’t get online out here. We don’t get service.”

“Yeah, Mom, we do. Ten years ago, when we moved here, maybe not, but the coverage expanded. But the irony is…that laptop last night actually does belong to Martin. We’re working on a project for school.”

“I want to meet him.”

“He’s just a kid from class. He’s not my boyfriend, and”—Rose chuckled—“he’s not my pusher.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“I really am sorry, Mom. If I hadn’t gotten that iPad in ninth grade, I probably wouldn’t have done it at all. The older I got, the more I understood what you were trying to do. But by then, it became a habit. Forgive me?”

“Rose, there is nothing I couldn’t forgive you for.”

#

Rose reclined on her bed in her long nighty, knees bent with Martin’s laptop resting on her legs. She scanned the thumbnail images of the new videos on the BeckSpecks home page. But her mother’s words kept running through her head. Nothing you couldn’t forgive me for, Mom? Really? Nothing?

Naturally, she watched the videos of her four BBs first. Lisa chronicled more of her workout regime. Alexa talked about a missing dog named Terri. It seemed weird because no one really knew who owned the dog, but people kept seeing posters around town. That video got a tremendous number of views. Apparently, a bunch of other students posted about the dog as well.

Martin went on and on about some old record or something. What a geek! But a lovable geek.

Jasper talked about how Kicker’s parents might have some connection to the Primbobi people.

Nope. Couldn’t be the case. Rose tapped Becca Beckin’s journal on the nightstand beside her. Sadly, they were all killed.

Did Kicker see this? she wondered.

Rose searched for Kicker’s name and clicked on his newest video. He clearly hadn’t seen it. Instead, he babbled on about a lot of nothing. But he did mention Lisa, though she didn’t mention him in her video. Interesting.

Rose scanned through a bunch of the titles. One of her classmates mentioned the annual bake-off. Always a fun event each year—a chill ran through her. Oh, no!

She opened her eyes wide. She flipped from page to page and shook her head.

It’s not working. How had she not noticed? She had to fix this—tomorrow. If the site continued on this track, it would all be a waste. They would never hear.