* * *

I dialed Marti as fast as I could, hunting up her Facebook page at the same time. I seizure-speed clicked my mouse on her “Friends” list.

  “Hey, M. What’s up? You miss me already?” Marti's voice came through after the first ring.

  I didn’t bother sending some sarcasm back her way. “Ok, Marti, tell me what’s going on now.”

I scrolled through her list, searching for a name. There. David O’Hara.

The real David O’Hara had a profile picture that matched up pretty well with my blurry glasses-free memories from the other night, an info page covered in nerdy details and a friends list of 709. “Some dude hit me up on Facebook pretending to be David O’Hara from the other night.” Forgetting the freakiness of the whole situation I zeroed in on that number. 709? Way too popular for me anyway.

  “What?” Marti actually sounded pretty surprised. “It's not him? Are you sure? It’s probably just Maddie playing a prank.”

  “No it’s not.” I was completely convinced it wasn’t Maddie playing a prank, for several reasons. “Seriously, even if that prepster wasted a thought on me she’s a girl. Girls playing pranks go the whole nine yards. Overly cute profile pic, detailed information, way-too-flirtatious message. You know. Like that one you sent me in tenth grade, pretending to be Daniel. Remember?” Marti laughed.

  “Oh I remember.” She said wickedly. I grimaced, wishing I could forget that massive crush. 

  “Anyway, as I was saying, she’d never do something this lame. I’m sending you the link to this guy’s page. You can see for yourself.” I clicked back to the fake account. Or tried to.

 

Internet Explorer cannot display the webpage.

 

“Marti, it’s gone. He’s gone. Whoever this is…” Suddenly my heart started to beat like the wings of a thousand gulls flapping through a storm. My throat felt tight.

  “What Meg? What were you going to say?” Marti’s voice was breathless and low. “Meg?”

 

Did you and Marti just get home?

 

Yep.

 

“Oh holy crap Marti, he was asking if we were home!” I jumped up, banging my knee against my desk, but too panicky to care. “What if he knows where we live? That’s all he wanted to know. Oh God…” I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that this was nothing but my usual over-reacting. “He left as soon as I told him we were home!”

There was no answer from the other side and I could see Marti in her room, sprawled on her bed, her mind turning handsprings. Marti never said much when she was thinking hard. I’d have to wait a few for her to sort things out, and while she was sorting out, I was flipping out.

  I glanced at my door. It was closed all the way, but some irrational voice told me to lock it. I did.

  “Marti? You there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Should we tell somebody? Should I tell mom and dad?” She didn’t reply again. Still thinking. I was thinking too, but I didn’t have all the details. Whoever this person was, I knew he wasn’t just looking for me. If he was looking for someone, that someone was Marti.

She had the answers. She knew the meaning behind this. I didn’t.

  For reasons even I didn’t know I suddenly dropped my voice to a whisper that was barely a cobweb of sound swinging in the air.

“Marti? What are we going to do?”