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I ease my motorcycle into the cul-de-sac at the end of Bayview Estates andkill the motor, staying still for a minute to check for any hint that someone'snearby. It's quiet, so I climb off and give a hand to Bronwyn so she can dothe same.

The neighborhood is still a half-finished construction area with nostreetlights, so Bronwyn and I walk in darkness to house number 5. Whenwe get there I try the front door, but it's locked. We circle to the back of thehouse and I jiggle each window until I find one that opens. It's low enoughto the ground that I haul myself in easily. "Go back out front; I'll let youin," I say in a low voice.

"I think I can do it too," Bronwyn says, preparing to pull herself up. Shedoesn't have the arm strength, though, and I have to lean over and help her.The window's not big enough for two, and when I let go and step back togive her room, she scrambles the rest of the way and lands on the floor witha thud.

"Graceful," I say as she gets to her feet and brushes off her jeans."Shut up," she mutters, looking around. "Should we unlock the front forAddy and Cooper?"

We're in an empty, under-construction house after midnight for a meetingof the Bayview Four. It's like a bad spy movie, but there's no way all of uscould get together anywhere else without drawing too much attention. Evenmy don't-give-a-crap neighbors are suddenly in my business now thatMikhail Powers's team keeps cruising down our street.

Plus, Bronwyn's still grounded.

"Yeah," I say, and we feel our way through a half-built kitchen and into aliving room with a huge bay window. The moonlight streams bright acrossthe door, and I twist its dead bolt open. "What time did you tell them?""Twelve-thirty," she says, pressing a button on her Apple watch.

"What time is it?"

"Twelve-twenty-five."

"Good. We have five minutes." I slide my hand along the side of her faceand back her up against the wall, pulling her lips to mine. She leans into meand wraps her arms around my neck, opening her mouth with a soft sigh.My hands travel down the curve of her waist to her hips, finding a strip ofbare skin under the hem of her shirt. Bronwyn has this unbelievable stealthbody under all her conservative clothes, although I've barely gotten to seeany of it.

"Nate," she whispers after a few minutes, in that breathless voice thatdrives me wild. "You were going to tell me how things went with yourmom."

Yeah. I guess I was. I saw my mother again this afternoon and it was ...all right. She showed up on time and sober. She backed off asking questionsand gave me money for bills. But I spent the whole time taking bets withmyself on how long it'd last. Current odds say two weeks.

Before I can answer, though, the door creaks and we're not aloneanymore. A small figure slips inside and shuts the door behind her. Themoonlight's bright enough that I can see Addy clearly, including theunexpected dark streaks in her hair. "Oh, good, I'm not the first one," shewhispers, then puts her hands on her hips as she glares at Bronwyn and me."Are you two making out? Seriously?"

"Did you dye your hair?" Bronwyn counters, pulling away from me.

"What color is that?" She reaches a hand out and examines Addy's bangs."Purple? I like it. Why the change?"

"I can't keep up with the maintenance requirements of short hair," Addygrumbles, dropping a bike helmet on the floor. "It doesn't look as bad withcolor mixed in." She cocks her head at me and adds, "I don't need yourcommentary if you disagree, by the way."

I hold up my hands. "Wasn't going to say a word, Addy.""When did you even start knowing my name," she deadpans.

I grin at her. "You've gotten kinda feisty since you lost all the hair. Andthe boyfriend."

She rolls her eyes. "Where are we doing this? Living room?""Yeah, but back corner. Away from the window," Bronwyn says, pickingher way through construction supplies and sitting cross-legged in front of astone fireplace. I sprawl next to her and wait for Addy to follow, but she'sstill poised near the door.

"I think I hear something," she says, peering through the peephole. Sheopens the door a crack and steps aside to let Cooper in. Addy leads himtoward the fireplace but nearly goes flying when she trips on an extensioncord. "Ow! Damn it, that was loud. Sorry." She settles herself next toBronwyn, and Cooper sits beside her.

"How are things?" Bronwyn asks Cooper.

He rubs a hand over his face. "Oh, you know. Livin' the nightmare. Myfather won't talk to me, I'm getting torn apart online, and none of the teamsthat were scouting me will return Coach Ruffalo's calls. Other than that I'mgreat."

"I'm so sorry," Bronwyn says, and Addy grabs his hand and folds it inboth of hers.

He heaves a sigh but doesn't pull away. "It is what it is, I guess. Let's justget to why we're here, huh?"

Bronwyn clears her throat. "Well. Mainly to ... compare notes? Eli kepttalking about looking for patterns and connections, which makes a lot ofsense. I thought maybe we could go through some of the things we know.And don't know." She frowns and starts ticking things off on her fingers."Simon was about to post some pretty shocking things about all of us.Somebody got us into that room together with the fake cell phones. Simonwas poisoned while we were there. Lots of people besides us had reasons tobe mad at Simon. He was mixed up in all kinds of creepy 4chan stuff. Whoknows what kind of people he pissed off."

"Janae said he hated being an outsider and he was really upset nothingmore ever happened with Keely," Addy says, looking at Cooper. "Do youremember that? He started hitting on her during junior prom, and she cavedat a party a couple weeks later and hooked up with him for, like, fiveminutes. He thought it was actually going somewhere."Cooper hunches his shoulders like he's remembering something he'drather not. "Right. Huh. I guess that's a pattern. Or a connection, orwhatever. With me and Nate, I mean."

I don't get it. "What?"

He meets my eyes. "When I broke up with Keely, she told me she'dhooked up with you at a party to get rid of Simon. And I asked her out acouple weeks after."

"You and Keely?" Addy stares at me. "She never said!""It was just a couple times." Honestly, I'd forgotten all about it."And you're good friends with Keely. Or you were," Bronwyn says toAddy. She doesn't seem fazed at the idea of Keely and me getting together,and I have to appreciate how she doesn't lose focus. "But I have nothing todo with her. So ... I don't know. Does that mean something, or doesn't it?""I don't see how it could," Cooper says. "Nobody except Simon caredwhat happened between him and Keely."

"Keely might have," Bronwyn points out.

Cooper stifles a laugh. "You can't think Keely had anything to do withthis!"

"We're freewheeling here," Bronwyn says, leaning forward and proppingher chin in her hand. "She's a common thread.""Yeah, but Keely has zero motive for anything. Shouldn't we be talkingabout people who hated Simon? Besides you," Cooper adds, and Bronwyngoes rigid. "I mean, for that blog post he wrote about your sister. Addy toldme about it. That was low, really low. I never saw it the first time around.I'd have said something if I did."

"Well, I didn't kill him for it," Bronwyn says tightly.

"I'm not saying--" Cooper starts, but Addy interrupts.

"Let's stay on track. What about Leah, or even Aiden Wu? You can't tellme they wouldn't have liked revenge."

Bronwyn swallows and lowers her eyes. "I wonder about Leah too. She'sbeen ... Well, I have a connection to her I haven't told you guys about. Sheand I were partners in a Model UN competition, and by mistake we toldSimon a wrong deadline that got him disqualified. He started torturing Leahon About That right after."

Bronwyn's told me this, actually. It's been eating at her for a while. Butit's news to Cooper and Addy, who starts bobbing her head. "So Leah's gota reason to hate Simon and be mad at you." Then she frowns. "But whatabout the rest of us? Why drag us along?"

I shrug. "Maybe we were just the secrets Simon had on hand. Collateraldamage."

Bronwyn sighs. "I don't know. Leah's hotheaded, but not exactly sneaky.I'm more confused about Janae's deal." She turns toward Addy. "One of thestrangest things about the Tumblr is how many details it got right. You'dalmost have to be one of us to know that stuff--or spend a lot of time withus. Don't you think it's weird that Janae hangs out with us even thoughwe're accused of killing her best friend?"

"Well, to be fair, I did invite her," Addy says. "But she's been awfullyskittish lately. And did you guys notice she and Simon weren't together asmuch as usual right before he died? I keep wondering if somethinghappened between them." She leans back and chews on her bottom lip. "Isuppose if anybody would've known what secrets Simon was about to spilland how to use them, it'd be Janae. I just ... I don't know, you guys. I'mnot sure Janae's got it in her to do something like this.""Maybe Simon rejected her and she ... killed him?" Cooper looksdoubtful before he finishes the sentence. "Don't see how, though. Shewasn't there."

Bronwyn shrugs. "We don't know that for sure. When I talked to Eli, hekept saying somebody could've planned the car accident as a distraction toslip into the room. If you take that as a possibility, anyone could've doneit."

I made fun of Bronwyn when she first brought that up, but--I don'tknow. I wish I could remember more about that day, could say for surewhether it's even possible. The whole thing's turned into a blur."One of the cars was a red Camaro," Cooper recalls. "Looked ancient. Idon't remember ever seeing it in the parking lot before. Or since. Which isweird when you think about it."

"Oh, come on," Addy scoffs. "That's so far-fetched. Sounds like a lawyerwith a guilty client grasping at straws. Someone new was probably justpicking up a kid that day."

"Maybe," Cooper says. "I dunno. Luis's brother works in a repair placedowntown. Maybe I'll ask him if a car like that came through, or if he cancheck with some other shops." He holds up a hand at Addy's raised brows."Hey, you're not the police's favorite new person of interest, okay? I'mdesperate here."

We're not getting anywhere with this conversation. But I'm struck by acouple of things as I listen to them talk. One: I like all of them more than Ithought I would. Bronwyn's obviously been the biggest surprise, and likedoesn't cover it. But Addy's turned into kind of a badass, and Cooper's notas one-dimensional as I thought.

And two: I don't think any of them did it.

Bronwyn

Friday, October 26, 8:00 p.m.

Friday night my entire family settles in to watch Mikhail PowersInvestigates. I'm feeling more dread than usual, between bracing myself forSimon's blog post about Maeve and worrying that something about Nateand me will make it into the broadcast. I never should have kissed him atschool. Although in my defense he was unbelievably hot at that particularmoment.

Anyway. We're all nervous. Maeve curls next to me as Mikhail's thememusic plays and photos of Bayview flash across the screen.

A murder investigation turns witch hunt. When police tactics includerevealing personal information in the name of evidence collection, havethey gone too far?

Wait. What?

The camera zooms in on Mikhail, and he is pissed. I sit up straighter ashe stares into the camera and says, "Things in Bayview, California, turnedugly this week when a closeted student involved in the investigation wasouted after a round of police questioning, causing a media firestorm thatshould concern every American who cares about privacy rights."And then I remember. Mikhail Powers is gay. He came out when I was injunior high and it was a big deal because it happened after some photos ofhim kissing a guy circulated online. It wasn't his choice. And from the wayhe's covering the story now, he's still bitter.

Because suddenly the Bayview Police are the bad guys. They have noevidence, they've disrupted our lives, and they've violated Cooper'sconstitutional rights. They're on the defensive as a police spokespersonclaims they were careful in their questioning and no leaks came from thedepartment. But the ACLU wants to get involved now. And there's EliKleinfelter from Until Proven again, talking about how poorly this case hasbeen handled from the beginning, with the four of us made into scapegoatswhile nobody even asks who else might've wanted Simon Kelleher dead."Has everybody forgotten about the teacher?" he asks, leaning forwardfrom behind an overflowing desk. "He's the only person who was in thatroom who's being treated as a witness instead of a suspect, even though hehad more opportunity than anyone. That can't be discounted."Maeve leans her head next to mine and whispers, "You should beworking for Until Proven, Bronwyn."

Mikhail switches to the next segment: Will the real Simon Kelleherplease stand up? Simon's class picture flashes across the screen as peoplereminisce about his good grades and nice family and all the clubs hebelonged to. Then Leah Jackson pops up on-screen, standing on BayviewHigh's front lawn. I turn to Maeve, eyes wide, and she looks equallyshocked.

"She did it," she murmurs. "She actually did it."Leah's interview is followed by segments with other kids hurt by Simon'sgossip, including Aiden Wu and a girl whose parents kicked her out whennews spread about her being pregnant. Maeve's hand finds mine as Mikhaildrops his last bombshell--a screen capture of the 4chan discussion threads,with Simon's worst posts about the Orange County school shootinghighlighted:

Look, I support the notion of violently disrupting schools in theory, but this kid showed adepressing lack of imagination. I mean, it was fine, I guess. It got the job done. But it wasso prosaic. Haven't we seen this a hundred times now? Kid shoots up school, shoots upself, film at eleven. Raise the stakes, for God's sake. Do something original.A grenade, maybe. Samurai swords? Surprise me when you take out a bunch of assholelemmings. That's all I'm asking.

I think back to Maeve texting away that day Janae got so upset with herat lunch. "So you really did send that to the show?" I whisper.

"I really did," she whispers back. "I didn't know they'd use them,though. Nobody ever got back to me."

By the time the broadcast finishes, the Bayview Police are the realvillains, followed closely by Simon. Addy, Nate, and I are innocentbystanders caught in a cross fire we don't deserve, and Cooper's a saint.The whole thing's a stunning reversal.

I'm not sure you could call it journalism, but Mikhail Powers Investigatesdefinitely has an impact over the next few days. Somebody starts aChange.org petition to drop the investigation that collects almost twentythousand signatures. The MLB and local colleges get heat about whetherthey discriminate against gay players. The tone of the media coverageshifts, with more questions being raised about the police's handling of thecase than about us. And when I return to school on Monday, people actuallytalk to me again. Even Evan Neiman, who's been acting like we've nevermet, sidles up to me at the last bell and asks if I'm going to Mathletepractice.

Maybe my life won't ever be fully normal again, but by the end of theweek I start to hope it'll be less criminal.

Friday night I'm on the phone with Nate as usual, reading him the latestTumblr post. Even that seems like it's about to give up:Being accused of murder is turning into a monumental drag. I mean, sure, the TVcoverage is interesting. And it makes me feel good that the smoke screen I put in place isworking--people still have no clue who's responsible for killing Simon.Nate cuts me off after the first paragraph. "Sorry, but we have moreimportant things to discuss. Answer this honestly: If I'm no longer a murdersuspect, will you still find me attractive?"

"You'll still be on probation for drug dealing," I point out. "That's prettyhot."

"Ah, but that's up in December," Nate replies. "By the new year I couldbe a model citizen. Your parents might even let me take you out on anactual date. If you wanted to go."

If I wanted to go. "Nate, I've been waiting to go on a date with you sincefifth grade," I tell him. I like that he wonders what we'll be like outside thisweird bubble. Maybe if we're both thinking about it, there's a possibilitywe'll figure it out.

He tells me about his latest visit with his mother, who really seems to betrying. We watch a movie together--his choice, unfortunately--and I fallasleep to his voice criticizing the shoddy camerawork. When I wake upSaturday morning, I notice my phone has only a few minutes left. I'll haveto ask him for another one. Which will be phone number four, I think.Maybe we can use our actual phones one of these days.

I stay in bed a little later than usual, right up till the time I need to getmoving if Maeve and I are going to do our usual running-slash-libraryroutine. I've just finished lacing up my sneakers and am rooting around inmy dresser for my Nano when a tentative knock sounds on my bedroomdoor.

"Come in," I say, unearthing a small blue device from a pile ofheadbands. "Is that you, Maeve? Are you the reason this is only ten percentcharged?" I turn around to see my sister so white-faced and trembling that Ialmost drop my Nano. Anytime Maeve looks sick, I'm seized with thehorrible fear she's had a relapse. "Do you feel all right?" I ask anxiously."I'm fine." The words come out as a gasp. "But you need to seesomething. Come downstairs, okay?"

"What's going on?"

"Just ... come." Maeve's voice is so brittle that my heart thumpspainfully. She clutches the banister all the way downstairs. I'm about to askif something's wrong with Mom or Dad when she leads me into the livingroom and points mutely at the television.

Where I see Nate in handcuffs, being led away from his house, with thewords Arrest in the Simon Kelleher Murder Case scrolling on the bottom ofthe screen.