Internet Famous Read online

  She looked back up to find Sarah staring at her, wide-eyed.

  “What did you do this time?”

  Madi shook her head, not knowing how to explain either her father’s reaction or Laurent’s. “I honestly don’t know.”

  *   *   *

  “Madi! We need to talk!”

  Her father’s bellow tore Madi from her trance. She still hadn’t answered Laurent. Didn’t know how.

  Sarah caught Madi’s eyes across the table. “I’ll do dishes,” she said. “You go deal with—”

  “Madi—now!”

  “Coming!” Madi shouted as she sprinted from the room. Down the hallway, a line of photographs showed the Nakamas through the years—Charles and his wife in various poses, the two girls in matching outfits in front of them—every photo projecting the perfect American family. Not in one of them, Madi realized, were her parents touching. Their hands were always on the shoulders of their daughters. The two of them separate. Disconnected.

  “MADI!”

  She slid to a stop at the entrance to her father’s office. He sat at his desk, his laptop open, the phone balanced awkwardly between his ear and right shoulder. He looked up as she walked in.

  “You need to explain this.”

  She walked toward his desk, anxiety rising with each step. What could it be? She caught sight of the screen and her breath hitched.

  “Who took these?” her father growled as he clicked through the images.

  They were pictures of Madi and Laurent, hand in hand: walking along the path to the ruins, laughing on a park bench, sitting in the coffee shop. They were grainy, but certainly visible. Madi stared at them, confusion mixing with fear.

  “I—I don’t know.”

  Her father flicked to the next photo, and Madi jerked. “Oh my God!”

  It was a photograph of Madi and Laurent kissing at the ruins. Seeing it, Madi had her answer. The troll had followed them, photographed them; there was no way Laurent could be the troll! Her relief mixed with her terror.

  “How do we prevent this from being printed?” her father snapped. He shifted the phone to the other ear. “My daughter’s privacy—our entire family’s privacy, for that matter!—is at stake here.”

  It took Madi a few seconds to realize her father wasn’t talking to her, but to someone else on the phone—his attorney, Ms. Auryn, most likely.

  Her father clicked the page and the last bit of blood drained from her face. A splashy tabloid image appeared from the popular Internet celebrity site, HTR: Heard the Rumor? Photos of Laurent and Madi—in various poses—splashed across the foreground while bright red letters crossed the center:

  “Madison Nakama, the daughter of Tri-State Herald journalist Charles Nakama, writer of the popular family values ‘Down Home’ column, in scandalous relationship with illegal immigrant!”

  Madi felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. She tried to breathe but couldn’t. “Th-that’s my name,” she gasped. “My REAL name!”

  “It is, and mine, too.”

  “B-but they can’t just publish that kind of stuff, can they? It’s a lie! Laurent’s here on a student visa.”

  “They can and they already have. HTR’s site has the images up now. I was contacted by my editor at the Tri-State Herald about it.”

  “Why would they contact you? This is about me.”

  “My ‘Down Home’ column has a conservative readership. These claims are going to cause backlash with readers.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tabloids love exposing things like this. Doesn’t matter if it’s the truth or not.”

  Her gaze jerked up from the screen. “Tabloids?”

  “HTR was the first to run the news, but a number of other tabloids, online and print, are following up on the story.” Her father shifted the phone to the other ear. “As the writer of ‘Down Home,’ I’ve been asked to comment on it.”

  i need to talk, laurent

  madi? i didn’t expect to hear from you.

  it’s a long story things have been CRAZY

  is that why you disappeared?

  not exactly. there r other things going on, too. i need to talk. face-to-face

  all right

  the troll is back. it’s a mess. he took a bunch of photos (of u and me). he’s gone public with them. made up a bunch of lies. MY REAL NAME IS WITH THEM.

  public?

  yes! And now they’re all over the INTERNET, laurent! that’s it. i’m out! I CAN’T DEAL WITH PEOPLE KNOWING WHO I AM IN RL

  OMG

  exactly

  i’ll come out to millburn. i can explain this to your father.

  no—u can’t! dad’s at a meeting with his lawyer.

  please let me help.

  ugh. i just don’t know

  PLEASE. I don’t even know what’s going on!

  can we skype? i just need to talk

  perfect. i’ll turn on my laptop now.

  okay hold on

  In less than a minute she’d opened the video-chat program. The screen shimmered and Laurent’s bedroom appeared. It wasn’t tidy as it had been the last time they’d talked online. Clothes covered the floor and unmade bed, Laurent’s backpack dangling, forgotten, off the closet door’s handle. Laurent looked up and caught her eyes.

  “Madi,” he breathed.

  Madi didn’t move. Couldn’t. In those few seconds before her voice returned, she had time to consider how unbelievably beautiful he was. His teeth were even, his disheveled hair shiny and full, his body athletic. Normal people—like those Madi interacted with on a day-to-day basis—simply didn’t have that kind of symmetry and grace. The perfection.

  “It’s good to see you again,” she said.

  He took a shuddering breath. “God, I missed you.”

  “Missed you, too.”

  Tears filled Laurent’s eyes, his face wracked with anguish as he neared the screen. “Why did you disappear on me? I thought I’d done something wrong. I thought—” His voice broke.

  Madi opened her mouth, meaning to give him a half-truth about being busy with school, but the truth tumbled out instead.

  “Because, for a little while at least, I thought it might have been you.”

  Laurent frowned. “What might have been me?”

  “The troll,” she said, hands tightening into claws on the armrest. “I thought—I dunno—maybe you’d been doing it. Playing me along. Making it into some stupid game to hurt me. I wasn’t certain it was you … but I wasn’t sure it wasn’t.”

  He stared at her for several seconds as her words settled in. She remembered that afterward—how clearly she could see the moment when he understood what she’d said—when it cut him to the bone. They were miles away from each other, but she could feel the change in atmosphere. He leaned back in his chair.

  “You—you thought I was the troll?”

  “I thought you might be. I wasn’t sure—”

  “You thought I was attacking you.”

  “No … Yes. I mean—”

  “Which is it?” he snapped. “Yes or no?”

  Madi cringed. “I’d already figured it was one of the MadLibbers, and since I didn’t really know you as well as some of the others, you seemed like an obvious choice. I-I’m sorry. I should have asked, but I didn’t know how. I realized as soon as I saw the pictures it couldn’t be you, but before then…”

  On-screen, his brows tightened until a single line creased his forehead. “What did I ever do to make you doubt me?” His words were a cry of pain. “Why didn’t you trust me?!”

  “Because I didn’t know why you’d spend time with me. I mean, look at us. We don’t fit. You’re gorgeous, Laurent, and I’m…” She let out a teary laugh. “Plain old Madi.”

  “I never treated you that way!” he cried. “Not once. Not ever!”

  “I know, but you’re perfect, and I’m just—”

  She never got the chance to say the rest because Laurent reached toward the camera.

  “I’m done.”
Her screen abruptly went black as he exited the chat.

  Conversation ended.

  Madi took a sobbing breath. “No!”

  That was it. Her relationship with Laurent Abelard was officially over.

  *   *   *

  “Madi? You ready?” her father called. “We should go through this while we have time.”

  “Coming, Dad,” Madi called, surprised by how normal her voice sounded. “I’ll tell Sarah to get in the car.” She felt like she was encased in ice. She stumbled to the kitchen on frozen limbs, barely able to breathe. Laurent had hung up on her. It was over. Over!

  By nine o’clock Sarah was at school, and by ten Madi and her father at the Millburn police station. Charles waited at the counter, his attorney at his side. While he filled out forms with Ms. Auryn, a police officer with a permanent scowl on his face took Madi into his office to interview her about the apparent stalker and who it might be.

  “Do you remember anyone following you and Laurent when you walked to the Colonial Inn?” the officer asked grimly. “Someone who might have seen you there?”

  “No. Not at all,” Madi said. “Laurent thought he saw something in the trees, but it turned out to be nothing.”

  “Can you think of why someone targeted you? Anything you might’ve done that someone would be seeking retribution for? A schoolmate angry for some reason?” His gaze flicked to her and then back down again. “Cyberbullying is more common than you might think.”

  “Not really,” Madi said. “I mean, I don’t even go to a regular school.”

  “No?” The officer made another note in his file. “Which school do you attend?”

  “OMA, their online program.”

  His pen scratched over the page for several seconds. “You said you run a blog online,” he continued. “How many people follow you?”

  “I can’t even keep up with the stats,” Madi admitted. “There’re people around the world. MadLibs gets almost a million hits a month.” She leaned forward. “So can you figure out who it is?”

  The police officer set the pen down and looked up. His eyes had rings under them as if he hadn’t slept in weeks, and a fan of wrinkles spread out from each side.

  “We’ll do everything we can to help you, Ms. Nakama. We will. But…” He nodded to a pile of folders on the corner of the desk. “Your case is one of many. Right now all we have are some photographs, a tabloid story, and some nasty e-mails and comments, plus your claims of online harassment.”

  “But it’s all true!”

  The officer nodded. “I’m sure it is. But it’s still a hard thing to prove. And even if we had solid evidence—”

  “But you do! The troll’s been harassing me for weeks. You have to go after him!”

  The officer leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Look. This isn’t like it is in the movies. We can’t just click a couple keys to find him and send a SWAT team to his house. Without a name, I don’t have a lot to go on.”

  “So you’re just giving up on this?”

  “Not at all. I’m passing your information on to our online crimes division. Cyber harassment is a criminal act in New Jersey—a felony, in fact—but it takes more than just finger-pointing to bring someone in. It’s an even grayer area for juveniles.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “This guy who’s bullying you is probably a schoolmate, right? If he’s under twenty-one, he’ll only be charged with cyber-harassment in the fourth degree. If he’s under sixteen, it’ll be a special case, dealt with by the juvenile system.” The officer tapped the file. “With the minimal evidence we have now, the guy will probably walk. At most he’ll get a fine.”

  “A—a fine?” Madi choked.

  “Truth is, there isn’t a hell of a lot we can do without solid proof, and you just don’t have it.”

  “But I showed you all the posts and e-mails!”

  “All anonymous. The IPs are fake. And until our online division can locate him, my hands are tied.” The officer closed the folders and added it to the pile on his desk.

  Madi squeezed her eyes shut, breathing hard. “This can’t be happening.… I can’t believe it.… I—I—”

  “Miss?”

  Her lashes fluttered open to find the officer frowning down at her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am. And we will go after him, but I need you to understand that it could take a while. Months, most likely.”

  “But—”

  “The online crimes div will do their best to catch him in the act somehow so they can show, without question, what he’s done to you. But…” He winced. “It’s not going to happen right away. It’s a matter of proof.”

  Madi’s eyes narrowed. “Then I’ll get the proof myself.”

  19

  “We’re all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that’s all.”

  (The Breakfast Club, 1985)

  “Wow, you really screwed things up with Laurent.”

  Madi didn’t stop walking, just glared at her little sister. “Gee, thanks, Sarah. I hadn’t realized that until you pointed it out.”

  “So he just hung up on you after you talked to him?”

  “Yup.” Madi reshouldered her bag. Under June’s heat, her back was sweaty from its weight. “That’s pretty much it.”

  “And you haven’t heard from him since?”

  “No. He’s not answering my texts, either.”

  “Can you e-mail him? Tweet, maybe?”

  “I tried. He’s offline. I even tried phoning, but it went to voice mail.” Madi shook her head. “I think it’s just … over.”

  Sarah plodded along until they reached the crosswalk. She paused—checking both directions, as she always did—but instead of walking, she put her hand on Madi’s arm, stopping her.

  “This is the troll’s fault, not yours,” Sarah said grimly.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “You need to find the troll. Get your proof.”

  “I’ve been trying, Sarah, but it’s not that easy. The troll’s smart. He knows how to hide. I can’t just force him to show up on demand.”

  “This whole thing isn’t going to stop until you do.”

  Sarah crossed the road, and Madi followed her to the other side. “The troll is doing this to hurt you,” Sarah continued. “He’s the one who messed up things with you and Laurent. And he brought Dad into it, too.” She gave Madi a fierce look. “It’s like Newton’s first law of motion.”

  “I was with you until Newton, and then you totally lost me.”

  “Newton’s first law says objects in motion tend to stay in motion. The troll’s like that. He’s got momentum. He likes what he’s doing. You need to force him out because he’s not going to stop on his own.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I don’t just think so, I know so,” Sarah said. “It’s physics.”

  Madi shivered despite the heat of the day. “Then I’d better get looking.”

  *   *   *

  By the time she got home, Madi had compiled a mental list of the things she knew about the troll. He knew her from her previous fandom on Redux, which meant he’d been online for at least a few years, cutting out the youngest member of the MadLibbers: WrittenInChantalics. He had an obvious temper, which removed ModernDayWitch, who always took the role of the mama bear of the group, but leaving ArtWithAttitude, Ava, as a distinct possibility.

  Ava and Madi had conflicted from their very first meeting at the Metrograph. Ava’s competitiveness was a vague but irritating part of her interaction with Madi. There were the snide comments: “Aren’t you, like, a bona fide recluse?… Can’t we, like, bribe you or something?” And Ava’s one-sided attraction to Laurent. The only thing that didn’t fit was that Madi sensed the troll was male. He seemed to have connections to Redux—a sci-fi site—which made StarveilBrian1981 a front-runner. But Brian was as trustworthy as he was odd. In all the years she’d known him, he’d nev
er wavered on that. His name was cut from the list, too.

  As to the tens of thousands of other MadLibbers who followed her blog and participated to varying degrees, she couldn’t even hazard a guess. There were simply too many to consider. But Madi’s gut told her it was someone who knew her well. Someone who knew her weaknesses.

  “Just need to figure out who.”

  She made a list of her most trusted online friends and wrote them each an e-mail. If her life had a soundtrack, Madi thought, this would be when the epic spy theme would play.

  NEW Message, [email protected]: 4:39 p.m. EST

  Priority: HIGH

  Subject: Need your HELP

  Hi Brian,

  I know this is a weird thing to ask, but I need your supersleuthing Internet skills. I’ve been having some issues with a troll the last couple weeks. (I’m sure you’ve noticed.) I figure if anyone can help track this guy down, it’s you. My goal is some hard evidence so I can stop him. IP Addresses, information, etc.

  Thanks. You ROCK!

  —Madi

  PS: Please don’t do anything illegal, okay? I have to take this information to the police afterward, and I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.

  Less than three minutes later, she had a reply:

  NEW Message, [email protected]: 4:41 p.m. EST

  Priority: HIGH

  Subject: RE: Need your HELP

  Madi,

  Consider it done.

  I’ll contact a couple of my other friends and get them involved, too. BTW, have you asked Ava to do some checking? The girl is one of the better hackers out there.

  —Brian

  Madi chewed the side of her thumbnail as she reread the e-mail. Could she trust Ava with this? Did she have a choice anymore? After a long moment, she wrote Brian a reply.

  Reply to Message from [email protected]: 4:45 p.m. EST

  Priority: HIGH

  Subject: RE: RE: Need your HELP

  You are AMAZING, Brian. Thank you. I’ll contact Ava and get her help, too. Let me know what you and your friends find. :)

  —Madi

  After sending off twelve more requests to MadLibbers far and wide, Madi spent her evening sifting through years of comments and posts across various platforms, hoping for a glimpse of the troll. There were angry comments, but they seemed random: individual readers who came and went, never staying. The problem was, she’d deleted the worst of them.