Internet Famous Read online

  “So plan a day you can visit,” Laurent said. “You talk, I’ll film. It’ll be good, Madi. Really good.”

  She grinned. “You think so?”

  “You and me teaming up?” Laurent chuckled. “I know so.”

  “Yeah. Maybe it will.”

  And for the first time, she actually felt excited about where this mess might lead.

  *   *   *

  Madi was on her unmade bed, typing out a rough plan for the vlog, when Sarah knocked on the door.

  “Busy right now,” Madi said.

  “Dad says it’s time for dinner.”

  “Tell him I’m not hungry.”

  Madi waited for Sarah to retreat downstairs. She didn’t. The knocking started up again.

  “What?!” Madi snapped, hitting SAVE.

  “I want you to come down.”

  Madi closed her laptop and flopped face-first on the bed. “Why?” Her voice was muffled by the comforter.

  “’Cause we always eat together.”

  Madi groaned and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. She had too much to do right now, and Sarah’s schedule was not helping.

  “I’m sure you can handle eating alone. I’ve got a lot of homework to catch up on.” She closed her eyes. “And I don’t feel like dealing with Dad right now.”

  She heard the door open and Sarah step into the room. Footsteps crossed the floor. Madi opened one eye to see Sarah frowning down at her in concentration.

  “What?” Madi grumbled.

  “Why’re you so mad at me?”

  Madi shoved herself up on her elbows. “I’m not mad at you, Sarah. I’m mad at all the other crap going on in my life.”

  “Is this about the phone call about your graduation?”

  “Wasn’t about graduating,” Madi said. “It was a stupid issue at school.”

  “What kind of issue?”

  “I have to redo an English project.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the last one wasn’t acceptable.” Her sister opened her mouth to ask another question, so Madi rushed to explain. “There was an issue with my MadLibs site. It didn’t fit the parameters of the project. I broke the rules, and Mrs. Preet loves her stupid rules. And that’s why I’m stuck redoing it.”

  “Oh.” Sarah’s scowl deepened. “But didn’t you read the project guidelines before you started the blog? You should always read the rules before you—”

  “Yes, I read them! No, I didn’t know about the rule.”

  “Oh.” After a moment, Sarah spoke. “Sorry for bothering you.”

  Guilt twinged under Madi’s annoyance. “Wait, Sarah. I’m coming, I’m coming.” She climbed from the bed. “So that was my awful day,” she said. “How’d yours go?”

  Her sister paused in the doorway. “It was fine,” she said. “Robbie asked if I wanted to go to a movie.”

  Madi’s eyes widened. “He did?”

  “Yeah, he and his friend Gavin are going.”

  “Gavin?”

  “Black hair. Moody,” Sarah said as she headed toward the stairs. “Anyhow, supposedly Gavin wanted you to come along, too.”

  “Huh. That’s … weird. And?”

  “And what?”

  “And are you going with them?”

  Sarah glanced back at her, pausing midstep. “No. Robbie only asked me to go to the movie because he likes you. I don’t know what Gavin wants. I thought he hated everyone.”

  “Me, too.”

  Her sister shrugged, heading into the kitchen. “Doesn’t matter either way. I don’t feel like going to a movie with them.”

  “Why?”

  “I prefer our rewatches.”

  *   *   *

  If there was something Madi appreciated about her father, it was that he didn’t hold grudges. Throughout supper, he made cheerful small talk while Madi answered him in grumbles.

  “It’s not the end of the world,” he said.

  “Feels like it.”

  “I promise it’s not.”

  “Hmmph.”

  “Believe me.” Her father chuckled. “When you get your first tax audit? That’s a reason to panic.”

  “Thanks, Dad, but that doesn’t help.”

  Planning out her new English project made time drag on forever. Near midnight, Madi came down to get a snack. Partway down the stairs she heard voices. Her father was online, Skyping with Madi’s mother, their voices rising and falling in the darkness. She sat down on the step, listening.

  “She didn’t tell us because she thought she was handling it,” her father said. “That speaks more to Madi’s strengths than any perceived weakness.”

  “But she isn’t going to graduate! My God, Charles! What will people think?”

  “They’ll think whatever they want. And an extra semester is only one option. Madi’s redoing the project she missed. It’s a large one, I’ll give you that. But it’s just one. I believe she’ll get it in.”

  “She’d better.”

  “She will. We need to trust her on that, Julia. She needs our support, not our condemnation.”

  Madi tiptoed back up the stairs, throat aching.

  *   *   *

  By the following morning, Madi and her father had settled into a truce. Over the next week, she plugged away at the scripts for her New York vlog. The more she wrote, however, the more difficult it became. She needed to be in the city to channel its energy. She needed to react. Feel. Frustrated, she walked down to the train station and booked her ticket for the upcoming weekend. It was time to face her fears, stop planning, and start filming.

  She looked down at the ticket and smiled. A weekend with Laurent in New York … If there was a silver lining to the situation, that was it.

  After leaving a voice message with her aunt Lisa on Friday—confirming her arrival and departure times—she headed back to the school to pick up her sister. The hallways of Millburn Academy were blessedly empty, and Madi was grateful. (She wasn’t sure she could control herself around the rule-fixated Mrs. Preet for one minute longer.) Twice on the return home, Madi pulled out her phone, but there were no new messages from Laurent. The separation from her online life with MadLibs had left her more anxious than usual, and after setting a frozen lasagna in the oven, Madi headed up to her room, taking her new favorite spot under her windowsill.

  She was checking her e-mail with the faint Wi-Fi signal pirated from her neighbor when the message arrived.

  NEW Message, [email protected]: 3:49 p.m. EST

  Priority: Normal

  Subject: Knock, knock

  Didn’t think you’d get rid of me so fast, did you? LOL

  “Oh, you little shit.” Temper flickering to life, Madi typed in a terse reply.

  Reply to Message from [email protected]: 4:01 p.m. EST

  Subject: RE: Knock, knock

  Why are you emailing me?!? Actually, don’t answer. I am DONE and you are BLOCKED. Go away!

  *E-mail address blocked*

  She’d just finished checking the other messages in her e-mail folder when a new message appeared. Furious, Madi scanned it, her hands tightening around her phone.

  NEW Message, [email protected]: 4:04 p.m. EST

  Priority: Normal

  Subject: Little pig, Little pig, LET ME IN

  You SJWs always underestimate me. And THAT pisses me off. I’m not playing games here, MadLibs. I know where you live.

  “I’m so sick of you,” Madi muttered as she tapped in a reply. “GO. AWAY.”

  Reply to Message from [email protected]: 4:06 p.m. EST

  Subject: RE: Little pig, Little pig, LET ME IN

  You think that gaslighting’s gonna work with me? Not likely. I’m going to keep blocking you. (The admin is already working on blocking your server.) Go home and play with yourself. I’m not interested. >:>/ Good-bye. Troll.

  *E-mail address blocked*

  She was in the middle of reading a slowly loading inform
ation page on blocking all e-mails from a particular server when the next e-mail arrived. She swore under her breath as it popped open.

  “Stupid trolls trying to flame my blog.” Her words faded into shocked silence.

  NEW Message, [email protected]: 4:08 p.m. EST

  Priority: HIGH

  Subject: I’ll huff and I’ll puff

  You live on Farley Road. Your house has two levels. It’s white with green shutters. Believe me yet? LOLOLOL

  “Oh my God,” Madi whimpered. This wasn’t flaming, this was doxing. The troll had somehow uncovered her personal information. If he exposed her, he exposed her family. But beyond Madi’s concerns for her father’s journalistic career, she had a sudden, biting moment of real fear. What if he comes after me? The thought was too terrifying to consider.

  Heart in throat, she composed a short answer, sending it off before she could think better of it.

  Reply to Message from [email protected]: 4:10 p.m. EST

  Subject: RE: I’ll huff and I’ll puff and

  This isn’t funny anymore. :(

  *E-mail address blocked*

  She flicked back to the help site, searching for details on blocking a server. “Come on … come on!” A new message appeared just as she finished resetting the permissions to her e-mail.

  NEW Message, [email protected]: 4:11 p.m. EST

  Priority: HIGH

  Subject: I’ll BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN

  LOL I disagree. This is HILARIOUS. I’m having a GREAT time playing with you.

  Rattled, Madi deleted the e-mail, then followed the directions for blocking a server. In seconds, she had the settings altered. On-screen, the automated reply appeared—following the newly arriving messages and bouncing them back before they could make it to her inbox.

  *Automated response* to *all users*@hackster.com: 4:12 p.m. EST

  Messages from this server have been rejected by the e-mail client. Please contact the system administrator.

  *Automated response* to *all users*@hackster.com: 4:13 p.m. EST

  Messages from this server have been rejected by the e-mail client. Please contact the system administrator.

  *Automated response* to *all users*@hackster.com: 4:15 p.m. EST

  Messages from this server have been rejected by the e-mail client. Please contact the system administrator.

  *Automated response* to *all users*@hackster.com: 4:17 p.m. EST

  Messages from this server have been rejected by the e-mail client. Please contact the system administrator.

  Madi waited, phone in hand, until the direct message stopped appearing. Whoever the troll was, he’d given up.

  “I-it’s over,” she said in a shaky voice. But somehow, she knew that wasn’t the truth.

  *   *   *

  Sarah stood in the doorway, watching as Madi packed.

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving,” she said glumly.

  Madi paused with a pair of half-folded jeans in hand. “I’m going to New York, Sarah, not Mars.” She set the pants on the growing pile. “I’ll be home on Sunday.”

  “You always said you wouldn’t go.”

  Madi groaned. “It’s a weekend, not forever.”

  “I hate it.”

  Madi left the half-packed bag and walked to her sister’s side. “I have a project to finish. New York is the topic. There’s no choice about it. Okay?”

  “You sure this isn’t about that boy? The one who lives in New York.”

  Madi sighed. “Laurent’s helping me film, but the trip’s not about him.”

  “What if I want to talk to you while you’re gone?”

  “Then text or call,” Madi said. “I’ll answer.”

  Her sister scowled. “It’s not the same.”

  “It’s not the same, but it’s close.” Madi nodded to the hallway. “Step outside.”

  “Where?”

  “Go into the hall.” She nudged her sister out of her room. “I’m right here, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Madi closed the door and slowly turned the lock. “You can hear me, right?”

  “Of course I can,” Sarah said irritably.

  “All right. You’ve got your phone?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Now imagine I’m in New York.”

  The door handle jiggled.

  “Madi?”

  (She didn’t answer.)

  “Madi?!”

  Sarah jiggled the door handle harder.

  “MADI! Open up! I don’t like this!”

  Madi pulled out her phone and tapped in a quick text.

  stop yelling! dad’s going to freak

  “Then let me in!” Sarah’s voice rose anxiously. “Why’d you lock the door?”

  Madi tapped in another answer, hoping it’d arrive before their father did.

  srsly—stop YELLING, sarah! text me

  “Why can’t I just talk to you?” Her sister’s voice wavered, close to tears.

  bc I’m not in millburn, remember?

  “But you’re in your room and…”

  Her sister’s voice disappeared midsentence. A few seconds later, Madi’s phone buzzed.

  I don’t like texting.

  ur just not used to it

  It’s weird.

  it’s a different way of talking

  What do you mean?

  u know how sometimes u wish you could know what people r thinking instead of guessing?

  Yeah.

  this way you can, bc u get my thoughts directly. there’s no guessing. i write it, u read it

  I don’t know about that.

  ask me something

  Why are you leaving?

  bc i have to finish my project

  I hate when you’re far away.

  i know but i’m still here for u, just not right beside u. make sense?

  Sort of.

  u can text whenever you want. i’ll answer. u can phone me if you need to hear my voice

  I guess that’s okay.

  i love you, sarah. that’s not changing. the space between us is just stretching a bit

  Love you, too, Madi.

  *HUGS*

  I don’t like hugging.

  LOL i know

  But I guess that one wasn’t so bad.

  *   *   *

  Madi’s father stood in the waiting area, his hand tight on her shoulder, Sarah two steps away.

  “And if you need anything,” her father said, “you call your aunt Lisa and she’ll deal with it.”

  “I know that, Dad.”

  “Keep the extra twenty in your pocket at all times. Not your wallet; your pocket. That way if you lose one you’ve got the other as a backup.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  “And you make sure you don’t go anywhere alone. Even during the day. New York is a much safer city than it used to be, but you’re still young. It’s a big place. Things happen.”

  Madi groaned. “Dad, I’m eighteen. I know how to take care of myself. I’ve been there like ten times before.”

  “You’ve never stayed overnight alone.”

  “I’m not going to be alone. I’ll either be with Laurent or Lisa: overprotective escorts on both sides.”

  “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

  “I will be careful.” Madi sighed.

  “And you’ll call me when you arrive—”

  “And tell you where I go, and who I’m with, and when I’m leaving.” Madi reached out and hugged her father. “I know all of this, Dad. You need to calm down about it.”

  She stepped back to find him frowning.

  “I’m only agreeing to this because of Ms. Rodriguez’s call,” he said. “I’m still worried about you.”

  “I know you are.”

  “This is a test as much as anything,” he said. “You go, you do your filming, you stay overnight with Lisa, and you come home Sunday morning.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  Her father’
s expression shimmered with something Madi couldn’t decipher, and then he cleared his throat. “Well, then. You should say good-bye to Sarah and go.”

  Madi looked over to find her sister watching. Sarah’s forehead crumpled as their eyes met.

  “I’m coming back on Sunday,” Madi said, answering the question before her sister asked it. “You can phone or text me any time you want. I’ll let you know what I’m doing.” She grinned. “I can even send you pictures if you want.”

  Sarah nodded.

  “I’m coming back,” Madi repeated.

  Her sister didn’t answer.

  “I am. I promise.”

  Sarah sighed. “Okay.”

  Madi pulled her into a tight hug. As always, she got to the count of three before Sarah began to squirm. She didn’t let go, just pressed her face into her sister’s hair and breathed. There were some times her little sister felt like a lead weight tied to her foot, but other times she felt so protective of her it hurt to step away. This was one of those times.

  “Madi,” Sarah grumbled, her arms coming up to wriggle free.

  “I know, I know.” She laughed as she released her.

  “You should board the train.” Her father lifted her backpack. “And don’t forget about keeping a twenty in your pocket, even—”

  “I know, Dad. Stop worrying.”

  “Mmph.”

  “I’ll miss you, too,” Madi said, shouldering her pack and heading to the train. She took a seat by the window, watching as her sister and her father grew smaller and smaller, before fading from view. Madi’s smile disappeared as she imagined her mother, thousands of miles away—a pinprick in the distance.

  Was this how Mom felt when she left them behind?

  *   *   *

  Madi caught sight of Laurent the second she walked into Penn Station. (At his height, he was hard to miss.) He peered over the heads of the crowd, and Madi grinned as she watched him unawares. His lean, muscled build hinted that he might be a track star, but the longish hair and intricate tattoo on his arm threw the athlete look completely off. Laurent was hot.

  “Hot damn,” Madi murmured as she pulled her backpack onto her shoulders.

  Laurent craned one direction, searching, before swinging back the other way. He seemed oblivious to the effect he had on people, but as he worked his way through the crowd, Madi noticed the appraising gaze he received from women of all ages. He shoved a hand through his hair, tucking it back behind his ear. His face broke into a wide smile as he caught sight of her.