Social Suicide Read Free

distant one.
    Until now.
    “You know what a lot of people your age do to fill their time?” I asked. “Hobbies. You could take up gardening or painting. Or knitting,” I suggested.
    Mom shot me a look. “Knitting? Exactly how old do you think I am, Hartley?”
    “What? Lots of people knit. It’s a great way to pass the time.”
    Mom shook her head. “Look, I’m not saying I’m ready to get married or jump into anything serious, hon. But I would like to get out and meet some people my own age. Okay?”
    “Some men, you mean.”
    “Yes.”
    I looked from Mom to the photo. Well, on the upside, at least with this as her first impression, she wasn’t likely to get too many offers.
    Once I helped Mom upload her profile photo to Match.com (Though I drew the line at helping her come up with a “flirty” headline. Shudder.), I escaped to my room, and logged on to Twitter. I quickly found Sydney Sanders’s page and DMed her saying I was doing an article for the school paper and wanted to get her side of the story. Then, while I waited to hear back, I scrolled through her most recent tweets. Apparently being grounded gave her a lot of free time, as there were at least a dozen an hour.
    It also appeared, as I read them, that being grounded forever was really depressing. Each tweet was sadder than the last, starting out that morning with:
    my life sux.
    To that afternoon where she’d disintegrated to:
    i have nothing left 2 live 4.
    Drama much? Then again, Sydney did thrive on school social events like homecoming, and she had been in the running for queen, so maybe her life really was suckish to extreme.
    An hour later I was still waiting for a response and was beginning to fear that maybe Sydney’s parents had decided to take away her laptop, too. I was just about to give up and see what kind of vegan dinner I could beg out of my mom when a reply finally popped into my box. I clicked it.
    what do u want to know?
    Yes! I quickly typed back:
    how did u get the cheats 2 the test?
    A moment later her reply came in.
    can’t say.
    Crap. Though honestly, if she hadn’t told the vice principal how she got the answers under threat of losing the homecoming title, I knew the chances she’d tell me were slim. Still . . .
    i want 2 print ur side of things. it’s unfair u were suspended. u deserved to be hc queen.
    This time there was no pause.
    i know! totally unfair!
    can we meet? 2morrow?
    i’m grounded.
    This I knew. But I also knew that Sydney lived on Teakwood Court, which backed up to the Los Gatos Creek biking trail. Conducting an interview through her back fence wasn’t totally ideal, but if I met her there after school, at least it meant she wouldn’t have to breach her grounding perimeter.
    I typed my plan to her, and almost immediately I got a reply.
    k. c u then.
    I grinned. Now that was what even Chase would have to call real reporting.

Chapter Two
    THE NEXT DAY, I WAS SO ANTSY TO TELL SAM ABOUT MY meeting that as soon as the fourth-period bell rang, I dashed toward the cafeteria. Stacks of trays and cartons of chocolate milk lined one wall, while rows of tables and benches filled the room. The floors were gray linoleum, the walls dull beige, and posters advertising our upcoming homecoming dance were plastered over every available space. I grabbed my tray, loaded up on pizza sticks, an apple, and a carton of milk, and quickly found Sam sitting near the back of the cafeteria with her boyfriend, Kyle Lowe.
    I hesitated.
    Okay, here’s the thing: I like Kyle fine. He’s a cool guy. I totally have nothing against him. But lately something was happening to Sam whenever she was around him. She was turning from a normal, rational, sixteen-year-old girl into a cartoon character with little pink hearts floating out of her eyes. Suddenly she was saying things like “my wittle wuv” and “I gots to has you,” getting so cutesy and grammatically incorrect it verged on embarrassing. I had yet to find a kind way to