“Two, one...” said Martin, sitting next to Rose in the high school library.

Rose pressed the return key. The “LAUNCH BECKINFIELD PERSPECTIVES” box disappeared, and the site went live. She stared at the screen, holding her breath. Nothing else changed.

“Well,” said Alexa. “That was exciting. Sorta.”

The computer pinged. A thumbnail of Lisa appeared.

“Ha!” laughed Rose. “Go, Lisa Sibbisson!”

“She must have pre-recorded her video and was ready to post it,” Martin said.

“Let’s see what she has to say,” suggested Alexa cheerfully.

Rose reached for the computer when it beeped again. A thumbnail of Kicker popped up.

“Figures,” Martin grumbled.

“Any action is good action,” she assured him.

The computer pinged again with a new image of a young, overly made-up-to-be-camera-ready, fifteen-year-old girl.

“Is that Beth Masters? Isn’t she like a sophomore?” Martin asked.

“I didn’t even invite her. She’s in the Drama Department, right?” Leaning into the computer, Rose whispered, “Thank you, Jasper.”

The computer pinged again and again as more thumbnail images showed up.

Alexa said, “We’ve got some major propagation.”

“What have we done?” Martin sounded awestruck and terrified.

Rose breathed out a satisfied sigh. “Something important. But will they hear it? Will they notice?”

“Who?”

Oops. Rose shrugged.

“Got an idea,” said Alexa. “Can I create a video right here?”

“Yuppers.” Martin nodded. “Sit at that computer. Record it live directly to the site. You don’t have to do it on your phone first or anything. Whatcha gonna say?”

“I want to tell the world about this moment. I’m going to call it, ‘I Was There When.’”

Rose laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, you should too.”

Rose turned away. Her mouth went dry.

She would have to post again. It burned in a part of her brain—they insisted that she participate in the response. And therefore, people would watch her videos.

Her breathing increased. The screen in front of her blurred as her eyes misted. Then her left leg twitched, and she rubbed the bottom of her nose with the back of her hand. People would see her. Her ears rang as darkness surrounded her. They would see her ugliness. They would see that she would never be lovable.

“Rose,” a voice called to her. Something squeezed her hand.

Alexa kneeled on the floor, holding her hand. Her friend smiled up at her.

When had she gotten there?

“It’s gonna be okay.”

Rose rubbed the tears away from her cheeks. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Will you help me with this?”

“Rose, I think you’ve created something really cool. Everyone is going to love it. You don’t have to post anything.”

“Yes…I do…I have to.”

To get them to hear, she had to make the site explode with activity. But many people would be shy and resistant to tell their stories, just like she was. So, she must lead the charge. They asked, “What You?” By any means necessary, she would make the answer resound, “We Beckinfield!”

#

Rose’s stomach panged as she stepped out of the serving area carrying a tray with her usual cobb salad. The packed second-floor lunchroom smelled of burnt burgers and thundered like a train station at rush hour. Again. She had taken a few minutes in the ladies’ room to wash her face and clean up, but she still had half an hour until her next class at one o’clock. She dropped her eyes to the floor as she squeezed past the tables toward her usual spot in the west turret by the window.

“What did you think?” Lisa called.

Rose looked up.

“Come on, sit with us.” Lisa beamed from a table next to Kicker and his posse and slid closer to make room on the bench.

All eyes focused on Rose. Her stomach jumped. She had to get those eyes away from her. Sit. Fast.

She scooted onto the bench next to Lisa. This would all end soon.

“Dig the video?” asked Lisa.

“’Course she liked it, babe,” Kicker interrupted. “Probably as much as mine.”

“Your video was great, babe,” Lisa said to Kicker. “Thank you for opening up like that.” She turned to his friends. “Vincent, Mikey, your turn to post something that—”

“I’m sorry,” Rose said, not making eye contact. “I haven’t seen any of them yet.”

“Check it out.” Lisa cocked her chin to indicate a group of kids at the next table. A couple of freshmen girls watched a video on a phone. “Bet that’s for the site,” said Lisa.

“You don’t know that,” Kicker countered.

“It is,” mouthed Lisa to Rose, with an eyeroll. “This thing is gonna rock.”

“I hope so,” said Rose as she took a bite of salad.

“Look around. Everyone has their phones out.”

“They always do,” said Rose with a shrug.

“Yeah, but all of them are eyeballing your site.”

Rose glanced around. Clumps of kids played videos on their phones. She got a glimpse of one of the screens. A sophomore boy, whom she recognized but didn’t know, talked to his camera. Hmm. It’s working.

“I need your help for just a bit tomorrow,” Rose said to Lisa. “Do you have any time between your class and practice?”

“A few minutes,” Lisa replied.

“Great. It shouldn’t take longer than that. Thanks. See you then.” She stood.

“Me too?” asked Kicker.

“Well…it’s kind of a girl thing.” She picked up her tray and started to the discard area.

“Hey, Branter.”

She turned.

“This thing you did,” Kicker said with a grin. “It’s very cool.”

She smiled at him and turned away.

He wouldn’t know cool if it kicked him in the balls. And it probably should. But Lisa would help her tomorrow, and Alexa and Martin already promised. Knowing where to find the last of the group, she turned toward the far window and the loudest table of all.

A dozen kids from the Drama Club laughed. Joked. Sang. And Jasper sat right smack in the middle, watching a video on his phone. He spotted her and flashed his perfect teeth.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jasper’s deep voice boomed over all else. “The maestro of BeckSpecks.” And he started applauding.

A flush crept across her cheeks. She shook her head in a desperate attempt to stop him, but too late. The Drama Club all turned to see her and picked up the applause. The clapping spread from table to table. Her knees weakened as everyone turned to her, and the clapping built.

She grabbed the nearest free seat and plopped down. She crooked her arm on the table and buried her face in the bend of her elbow. The applause echoed off the walls, smothering her.

Finally, the horrendous noise died to the usual din of chatter. A hand touched her back as someone lowered into the chair next to her.

“Are you all right?” asked Jasper. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Well, don’t ever do that again,” her shaky voice barked.

Jasper nodded. “All right. I’m sorry.”

“I need your help.” She didn’t intend to sound so angry. But…why would he do that? “I need you to meet me in the library right after class tomorrow.”

“I have a rehearsal for—”

“I need you to meet me in the library right after class tomorrow,” Rose repeated with defiance.

Jasper leaned back, crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow like someone people didn’t order around.

“It will only take a few minutes,” she said.

His brown eyes stared at her. Finally, he nodded. “All right.” He stood, then smiled. “Rose, you know it’s only an F&F site, right.”

“F&F?”

“Friends and family. It’s like community theater, far more fun to do than to watch. The only people viewing are the ones participating, which becomes a zero-sum game. As those posting realize they aren’t getting many views, they start thinking it’s pointless, and worse, because it’s their own lives they’re putting out there, they begin thinking they are pointless.”

“Everyone’s life is worth noting.”

“Well, enjoy the success now because I hypothesize it will peak soon, and then it will drop away. Hate to say, though I support you fully, I don’t think it will be as terrific as everyone else seems to think.”

“Hope I see you after school.” She stood and made her way through the aisles. Who says the site has to be terrific in the long term? It just has to get loud enough for them to hear…and respond.

#

“Want to ride tonight? I think Storm is getting bored of only having me on his back.” Her daughter had said little during dinner. Judy warned her that this phase would arrive. But, wow, Branter longed for the Rose of last year. Seventy-two days and off to Stanford she would go, leaving just her and Bossy-Boss in the electricity-less empty nest.

“Sorry, Mom. I can’t.”

All right. Plan B. “Hey, can I ask you something about a case?”

“What?” Rose’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Branter fought off the laugh. The conversation played out exactly, exactly, exactly like Judy told her it would. Asking for her daughter’s help to invite Rose into her life.

“Yeah, I think it might involve someone from your class.”

“Who?”

“I’m not really sure yet. But someone has repeatedly tagged Blondie’s Coffee Shop.”

“Tagged like tagging-tagging? Spray paint? What are they writing?”

“It’s not writing. It’s…And it’s kinda funny. It’s The Fireflies’ football team logo.”

“No way,” said Rose.

“Yeah. Blondie cleaned it off. And then it was back the next morning.”

“Think it’s a football player?”

“I don’t know…could be a fan or one of the cheerleaders...”

“No way. Not a cheerleader—Alexa-call-me-Siri would’ve told me.”

“Just some weirdo or something?”

“I bet it’s Kicker Taggart and his gang.”

“The quarterback? Curtis Taggart?”

“Yeah, but he calls himself Kicker because it’s his version of clever irony.”

“Huh? Why do you think it’s him?”

“Back in a sec.” Rose got up from the table and hurried into the hallway.

She sounded excited. It had been a few months since Branter had heard that quality in her daughter’s voice.

Branter looked at the empty chair on the other side of the table. She looked at her future. Then she sucked the thought in.

Nope. Don’t feel that. Not yet.

Rose hurried in carrying a backpack, plopped down in her seat, and unzipped the top. She pulled out a Beckinfield yearbook and dropped it on the table.

Branter noticed the flash of grey in the bag, and her heart dropped to her stomach. She put her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hand, rubbing her temples, trying to unsee what stuck out of the backpack.

Could she continue this conversation? Act natural. But her head now pounded.

Rose flipped through the pages.

“There it is.” Her daughter turned the book to face her. Branter pushed the headache away and inspected the page of individual class photos of smiling seniors. Next to Curtis “Kicker” Taggart’s picture, a signature dominated most of the space. A tiny caricature punctuated it. The team’s mascot. A firefly. Exactly like the one on Blondie’s wall.

Yes. She nailed it.

“Why would Kicker be tagging buildings?” Rose asked.

“Well…I dunno yet—attention maybe. Football season’s over. He’s probably feeling a bit lost and doesn’t want people to forget that he was a star player. I don’t know how well you know his father, but the home life is not exactly ideal.” Then… “Why would you bring that here?”

“The yearbook?” asked Rose.

“You can’t play dumb! Ever. If you have one true curse, it’s that. You can’t play dumb. Why would you bring that in here!”

Rose’s eyes glanced at her backpack. Then her shoulders dropped.

“Mom…I’m sorry.”

Branter wrestled with the irrational emotions. But Rose breached the trust. How dare she?

“It’s not mine. It’s Martin’s.”

Rose pulled the laptop computer out of her knapsack and laid it on the table. Branter gasped. She shoved her chair away and leaped to her feet.

The sanctity of the house evaporated. Would she ever rest peacefully in her bed again?

“Put it away,” she whispered.

Rose stuffed the computer in the pack and zipped it up.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Rose picked up the bag and slumped toward her room.

Branter blew out a long, slow, steady stream of breath.

She never should have snapped like that at her daughter. But Rose would never know what she’d really done. Could Branter sell the house? It was unclean now, but no one else would care. Why would the sheep care about the unseen wolves? The computer belonged to a “Martin”?

She thumbed through the open yearbook still on the table to find his picture. A page in the center stopped her.

Rose won one award for Science. She never mentioned that. She won another for Math? Branter turned the page. She also won Chemistry and Literature. Why had she kept that secret?