Theoâs here to take us to practice.â She leaned against the doorframe. âAre you okay?â
âSure,â I said with a shrug. âWhy wouldnât I be?â
Gabby stepped into my room and closed the door behind her. âBecause of what happened at school yesterday.â
âOh, that,â I scoffed. âYou canât even tell itâs me.â
âYeah,â she said, âbut someone was at the studio watching us. Someone from our school! Donât you want to know who it is?â
I shook my head. âIf I did, Iâd probably punch them.â
âSo it does bother you.â She sat on the floor beside me.
âOf course it does,â I said. âBut itâs already happened, and thereâs nothing I can do about it. And thereâs nothing you can do about it.â I pointed my pencil at her.
She leaned back and put her hands up defensively. âWasnât going to. But I did want to know how you planned to stop it from happening again.â
My body went rigid. âYou donât think . . .â
Gabby shrugged. âWhoever it is could make a whole series of videos about you.â
There was another knock on my door, and Uncle Theo poked his head in. âYou kids ready to go?â
All I could do was make a grunting noise.
âTimâs not feeling so great,â said Gabby. âWould it be okay if we practiced without him?â
Uncle Theoâs forehead wrinkled with concern. âOf course. Is there anything I can do?â
âIâll be okay,â I told him. âI just need some rest.â
He nodded and beckoned to Gabby. âLetâs get going.â
Gabby moved to follow him but paused at the door to tell me, âYou need to figure out who sent the video.â
âThereâs nothing to figure out. Itâs over and done with,â I said.
But it wasnât.
Not only did I spend the rest of my weekend doing Ryanâs homework, but on Monday someone had distributed the latest issue of the Lincoln Log in the student lounge. I walked into a sea of blurry-faced me, smack in the middle of the front page. I picked up a copy that had been tossed onto a chair.
âWhat Makes a Video Viral?â was the headline.
âGreat,â I muttered.
Berkeley was coming in behind me when he saw the paper.
âDude, did you see that video?â He pointed to the page, grinning.
âYeah,â I said with a forced laugh. âCrazy, right?â
âNo joke! I didnât think guys could kick that high.â
âItâs all about flexibility,â I said. Berkeley gave me a curious look, and I stammered, âIâI mean . . . one would think.â
He blinked at me. âWell, listen, I want to make sure youâre still planning on . . . having Ryan presentable at my party.â He cleared his throat. âI saw him in the bus line rolling a sheet of paper into a cone and burping in it.â
âOf course,â I promised. âWhen you see himheâll be a completely different person.â
âCool,â Berkeley said with a grin. âHey, me and some of the other guys are heading outside to cover Mitchell with snow so he can pretend to be a snowman and scare people. Wanna come?â
Before I could answer, someone tapped me on the shoulder. âExcuse me. I saw youââ
âThatâs not me! Iâm a terrible dancer!â I cried, spinning around.
A girl with messy hair and glasses jumped back, startled. âO-okay. I saw your ad in Locker 411 about gifts for your family?â
âOh! Sorry!â I laughed nervously and glanced from her to Berkeley, who had raised an eyebrow. âYeah, just put your request in the locker andââ
The girl shook her head. âYouâre standing in front of me. Canât I just talk to you?â
âWell . . .â I looked around for Brooke, Heather, or Vanessa, hoping to pawn her off
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