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“Nah, in our family it was Groundhog Day and Take Your Daughter to Work Day.”

It's not a hysterical joke, but I laugh just a bit. Even though Andy doesn't make a sound, I feel like he smiles.

“Kidding,” Andy says, like I didn't know that. “Yeah, we only went on Christmas and Easter. I mean, come on, if God's really out there somewhere, he's only popping his head in the doors at church to make sure you're coming to the big holidays? What kind of God is that?”

“A very bored one,” I say. “Actually, it sounds a little like my mom. She does that too. Sticking her head in the door, I mean.”

Andy laughs. Not much, but it's a laugh. Bigger than the snort-cough thing. That's good, right? That's a good sign, isn't it?

My door flies open. I squeal and fall back onto my bed. Jack stands in the door, pulling on a light jacket over his Target-brand graphic T-shirt. Sometimes I want to take him shopping for real clothes.

“Thanks for the coffee, Vic” is all he says, and he disappears down the hall. A moment later I hear the front door open and close before I can even think to tell him it just needs to be plugged back in.

“Great,” I say.

“What was that?” Andy says.

“My brother. I ruined his night. No, wait, his life, according to him.”

“Yeah? How'd you do that?”

“Nothing, forget it.”

“Family does indeed suck from time to time,” Andy says, but it sounds like it's almost to himself.

I can't hear Jack's car, but I see his headlights sweep across my window through the shades. He's probably going to 7-Eleven for coffee now. Must have a big paper due or something; otherwise, I don't think he'd be up this late. Jack's kind of square that way except for the whole Internet-porn thing.

Internet . . .

Laptop!

“Could you, um, hold on for just a sec?” I say to Andy. “Or maybe a minute or two?”

“How come?”

“I need to . . . go to the bathroom.”

“Take me with you. I won't listen.”

“Seriously, I don't talk to people in the bathroom. It's really freaky.”

“Now I'm freaky,” Andy says. “No surprise there.”

“Wait, no, that's not what I said. I just—it's a thing. Okay? Will you be okay just for a minute or two?”

Andy is quiet. I'm already heading down the hall.

“Yeah,” he says. “Sure.”

“Thanks,” I say, and slip the phone into my pocket.

Tori Hershberger
UGH. Sometimes life just sucks.

Like · Comment · Share · April 3, one year ago

 2 people like this.

Kevin Cooper
I hear ya. whats your story?

 You like this.

Marly DeSoto
you break a nail Cooper?

 You and 4 others like this.

Lucas Mulcahy
haha marly. whats up tori?

 You like this.

Tori Hershberger
Hey, Lucas! Great game last night. How many homers is that?

 2 people like this.

Lucas Mulcahy
four. whats up

 You like this.

Tori Hershberger
I probably hate probability problems. :)

Kevin Cooper
You need help?

Tori Hershberger
I got it. Thanks.

Lucas Mulcahy
math is for pussies!!

Kevin Cooper
Math put men on the moon

Lucas Mulcahy
pussy

I open Jack's door. The light's still on, which means he definitely isn't going to be gone long. How much time do I have? Assuming he went only as far as 7-Eleven to get coffee, ten minutes, tops. But maybe that's enough.

I open the laptop and hit the power button. Jack's desktop screen is—jaw-dropping surprise—a scantily clad woman. And she's only scantily clad in case someone should happen to see his desktop; otherwise, I'm sure she'd be totally naked. Gross. This particular princess is riding what appears to be a tyrannosaurus dragon. Geek check. No wonder Jack never made any friends in high school besides guys like Noah. Gamers and anime freaks and whatnot. He's such a dork.

I open his browser and log in to my Gmail account, hoping against hope. But for once this month, things go my way. Noah is logged in too. I open a chat window.

Me:
Noah!

Noah:
Tori-chan!!! where are you? howd you get a computer?

Me:
It's Jack's. This guy just called me and says he

I stop typing.

How exactly should I finish this little sentence? Noah may still be talking to me, even supporting me, but even though he's totally been on my side through the whole thing, is it fair to drag him into something else now?

Whatever. I need help. And he's never let me down.

I finish typing:

is going to kill himself.

Noah:
huh???

Me:
You've got to believe me, he's on the phone right now!

Noah:
who is it?

Me:
He says his name is Andy. Do you know anyone named Andy or Andrew?

Noah:
no. whyd he call you?

Me:
He said it was at random.

Noah:
wow thats got to be a total lie

Me:
I know! But I think he might really mean it. I can't risk it if he is serious. I have to help him somehow.

I don't bother correcting my typo. Normally I'm a perfectionist about that kind of thing. Even online. No time to worry about it now.

Noah:
its probably someone from school messing with you again. that sucks.

Me:
I thought so too at first, but now I don't know. You have to help me okay?

Noah:
totally. how?

I hesitate, trying to come up with a reasonable and feasible answer. Instead, I end up writing the truth.

Me:
I don't know.

The kitchen door opens. My brother's back.

Without thinking, I grab his laptop and rush to my room, closing the door and locking it behind me. Like that'll do any good. He's going to see that it's gone, come knocking on my door and shouting, wake up our parents. . . .

I take my phone out and set it on the nightstand and put my brother's computer where mine used to sit.

Me:
I don't have much time. Can you come over and meet me outside or something?

Noah:
wow ok. knock your window maybe?

Me:
yes cool thank you!!!

Again, now's not the time to show off my perfect English skills.

I hear keys jingling in the kitchen as Jack hangs them on the pegboard beside the door, and a second later his bedroom door closes. Ticktock, ticktock.

Noah:
I'll come to your window

Me:
Okay.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Three distinct, muffled, and angry knocks on my door. Cursing, I get up and open the door.

“Please,” I say to Jack right away.

“Stay out of my room, Victoria,” Jack says between clenched teeth. “And give me my computer back.”

“I'll do anything,” I say, because at this point, I really will. The laptop, the Internet, is too valuable right now. I actually
could
Google Andy's number, find out who he really is maybe, for starters.

“Anything?” Jack asks me.

“Yes!” I say quickly.

“Okay, then,” Jack says.

I'm stupid enough to have hope for just one moment, which ends as Jack continues: “Shut your mouth and give me my stuff back!”

“I'll scream,” I try. “I'll wake up Mom and Dad.” This used to work when we were younger.

Jack laughs, cold. “Please do,” he says. “I can't wait to tell them you broke into my room and stole my computer so you could go online, where they specifically told you not to go anymore. Scream away, Vic.”

Reflexively, I punch him in the arm for calling me Vic. He punches me back. We start a stare down.

I actually win the stare down, but only because Jack relaxes and leans against my doorframe. “Do you want to hand it to me, or do you want me to knock you over and go get it myself? Your call.”