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close to Tribb’s that they almost touched.
    â€œYeah.” Tribb nodded. “For shiz.”
    Of course he totally agrees with me. That’s the way boyfriends are.
    â€œDouble smiley face then!” Courtney shrugged and walked over to a table. “Oh, and I can’t wait to see what the Lylas do with that webcast thingy,” Courtney added from her spot. “I’m sure it’ll be très cute.”
    â€œThanks,” Parker said with as much enthusiasm as possible (which was exactly zero). “We can’t wait either.”
    â€œIs she being aggressive-passive, or what?” Kiki asked Kenneth under her breath.
    Kirby leaned in and put his hand casually on the back of Plum’s chair, just like Tribb had done with Parker. He didn’t look nearly as cool though. He looked like he might tip over.
    â€œThat’s my chair!” Plum said with a shove.
    â€œOh…oops…sorry…” Kirby quickly stuffed his hand back in his pocket and moved back behind Tribb.
    â€œSee! What did I tell you?” Plum whispered to Parker.
    â€œSo…” Tribb nodded. “Cool.” He popped both sides of his collar back up equally again. It seemed like maybe one of their secret signals because Kirby and Beaver did it too.
    Tribb smiled before he and his teammates walked toward the back exit. ( Dimple , check! Outdoor Fresh fabric softener sheet smell , check! Taller than she was , check! Totally, completely, perfectly hawt, double-check! )
    â€œHe is distressingly fit.” Kenneth gawked as they left.
    â€œDistressingly,” Parker agreed.



Chapter 10
    There were a few minutes in between Latin Studies and Expository Writing, so Parker stood in front of the Orion kiosk in the empty hallway next to the Munchkin classrooms. She was dying to Spy Feed on Tribb; she even knew what class he was in (Computer Skills) and where he was sitting (fourth row, window side), but that was impossible now. She couldn’t afford to stalk Tribb between classes. There was no time to waste.
    Parker held her breath as the cursor hovered over the Wallingford Academy Today archives folder. (Think presidential command center, nuclear bomb, and red glowing button.) She winced, then just sort of clicked it.
    There were sixty webisodes in all—three years worth of Snoozeville. Parker clicked and watched and tried not to groan aloud.
    How would someone even describe the webcast? she wondered. Think of a news show, a really boring news show. Then think of the super-early version of that really boring news show, the kind that might be on at 5:00 a.m. Since no one’s really watching the super-early version of that really boring news show, the station puts the especially pathetic newscasters on it, the kind of newscasters that might pair beige with, say, off-beige, or do the kind of lame stuff that newscasters who make it all the way to the 6:00 a.m. broadcast would never be caught doing. Then think of something a thousand times more Retardis Involuntaris than that—and you pretty much have Wallingford Academy Today .
    Each year, each webisode worked the same way. There was a “host” for each show, usually the fugliest member of that year’s production staff and, almost always, the one with the worst forehead-height-to-face-size ratio. The unattractive (and forehead-height-challenged) host said hello and welcomed the audience the same way every show: “Hello, and welcome to Wallingford Academy Today .” Catchy! That person sat behind a teacher’s desk that had been painted beige to match the off-beige backdrop (remember the 5:00 a.m. broadcast?) so mostly the person just looked like a floating, poorly proportioned, head in a sea of weak mud.
    Groan aloud!
    Parker fast-forwarded through the depressing variety of academically important topics chosen, covered, produced, and starring each production staff member. The highlights in the archive included an inside