My knees were cramping as I crouched behind the knee high brick border. I looked with admiration as Katie marched towards the towering figure of Matt Faron, head high, and shoulders back. Then I quickly ducked my head, hoping no one had seen my muddy-blonde curls peeking above the fence. High pitched girly whines floated towards me.
“Matt, my Internet ReportCard isn’t working for me. Could you check yours? I just need to know what we got on the group project last week.”
I decided to hazard a look. Silky blonde hair was flashing in the bright sunlight, coordinating perfectly with dark eyelashes blinking innocently.
“You have sunk to a new low, my friend.”
I jumped, scratching my back on the rough stone. A tie-dyed backpack thumped to inertia somewhere near my ears. I raised my head tenderly, squinting out the fierce sunlight. Chelsea reclined on the wall, blocking the sun with her body.
“So you’re getting Katie to flirt the password out of him?” Scorn permeated her words. Her unyielding look clued me in that it wasn’t a rhetorical question.
“Uhhh…” Frantic for a distraction, I glanced towards the doors. My spy was gone, along with my person of interest. Three awkward freshman girls had taken their place. Chelsea rolled her eyes.
“You need to give this up. It’s going to be bad.” I almost mistook it for genuine concern. She sighed, pulling out a notebook. An occasional glance in my direction interrupted the steady stream of reviewing for the next minutes. I remained in my humble position, giving my conscience free reign over my thoughts. I was all too glad when Katie emerged from the building, a satisfied grin making her dimples prominent.
“Did you get it?” I blurted out.
“Sorta. Come on, you need to help me work out all the fine details.”
Hurdling over the wall, I raised my hand in farewell to Chelsea, attempting an apologetic smile. Seeing that she had no intentions of reciprocating the gesture, I continued to follow Katie down the halls to the computer lab. A banner proclaiming “State Football Champions – ’96 through ‘06” loomed at the end of the corridor. The flashy orange and black pride sent pangs of guilt to my stomach.
“Ok, the first letters are obviously MF, you know Matt Faron,” came Katie’s hushed voice, “and the last are going to be 08, because he’s graduating in…”
I punched her arm, forcing indignant looks out of her. I nodded my head in what I hoped was a backward direction, though I felt more like I was trying to crack my neck. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ as Mrs. Jirko brushed past us. Her skirt swished into a classroom.
“Continue.”
She took a minute to revive her stream of thought. “Yeah, so I was looking over his shoulder as he typed in the rest of it. I know he did it all on the number pad, and it was up – down – up – down.”
We descended onto the nearest vacant computer. My hand brushed the keypad thoughtfully. Up would be either 7, 8, or9. Down would be either 1, 2, or 3.
“Now what? Do we just try all the combinations?”
My reverie shattered. “Uhh… yeah, I guess. Let’s hope we get lucky.” I guided the mouse to the Internet ReportCard icon, depressing the left button twice. The homepage, featuring two idealistic students studying together, popped up, along with the sign-in box. M-A-T-T-H-E-W F-A-R-O-N. The letters formed an alien combination to my practiced fingers.
“MF718208” Katie suggested, “Let’s start with the easiest and work from there.” We didn’t dare to breathe as we submitted it. A loading screen taunted us, until finally a message appeared informing us that “The password is incorrect. Please try again.” The message became a source of familiarity in the presence of hacking into computers. It appeared at least 10 more times.
“Ok, try MF817308,” Katie instructed, crossing out sequences on the notebook paper folded on her knee. The loading screen flashed longer than usual. My clothes stuck to my back with cold sweat. Had the computer frozen? Would whoever fixes it realize what I was doing? The screen snapped to black and orange, a fierce contrast. “Welcome Matthew! You have 5 new assignments added.”
“Oh, yes!” breathed Katie, as loudly as she dared. I flashed a smile of relief. The worst was over.
“What was the password again?”
“MF718208,” she repeated, passing the scribbled sheet to me.
“Perfect.” I clicked the x in the corner of the screen, sending the monitor plummeting back to the navy blue screen saver.
“You’re not going to look?” Katie’s voice rose into a whine to match her distraught expression.
“It’s too risky. I’ll look at home. Besides, the rest is boring, just a lot of adding and averaging. I can do it by myself.” I explained, shocking myself with unplanned haughtiness.
“Well, glad I could help,” she scoffed sarcastically. She glared at me, with her mouth barely open in a particularly annoyed fashion. “Apparently you just needed me to weasel a password out of him.”
“Katie!” I pleaded to the retreating form of her petite shoulders. Sinking back into the hard-backed computer chair, I fiddled with the password paper. My mind was racing with hurt, betrayal, hopelessness. Two friends gone… how many more to go?
