even signed into my private messages, I saw Heath Hall had announced another event for this weekend. He didn’t say exactly what would be happening, just an address and time range. That was new.
I moved on to my messages. I had no new ones. That did not disappoint me, I told myself. I analyzed each of the suspects in my mind, trying to decide which trap to lay first before I typed. A thought occurred to me.
Have any fun mental conversations with your dog lately?
Robert had a dog. How had I not thought about that until now? He didn’t respond right away. It was only six o’clock. Had Robert’s track meet gone late? Jackson. Where would he be at six o’clock at night? Eating dinner with his family, maybe.
I began scrolling back through Heath Hall’s wall. The feed went on and on. How long had he been doing this anyway? I clicked on his profile where it showed me when the account was created. I stared at that date for a long time, then subtracted the number in my head three times from the current date to make sure it was right. Five years. This Heath Hall account had existed for five years? How had I not noticed that before? I just assumed it had only been happening for a couple years because that’s when I remembered learning about it. But I was in elementary school five years ago. So were Robert and Jackson, for that matter. There was no way either of them would’ve thought of something this elaborate five years ago.
My computer dinged with a new message.
My dog is mad that I’ve been so busy. He’s sending me death glares right now but refusing to speak.
Busy? Doing what?
You know, scaling buildings, saving lives, being awesome. The usual.
Five years ago? So did that mean it wasn’t Robert or Jackson? Was he someone a little older? Robert said I knew who Heath Hall was. Had he been lying? Maybe I didn’t know him at all. Maybe he was some senior. I didn’t know many seniors very well. Mainly the ones on the swim team. I tried to think of each one, match him up with the clues and facts I knew about Heath Hall. Suddenly and with a jolt of fear, I remembered the one person I knew quite well who was actually out of high school.
DJ.
He would’ve been in the eighth grade when this account was made. And he was a smart guy, a huge reader. He could’ve thought of something like this at thirteen. Plus, he was a little closer to the guy I’d always imagined Heath Hall was: shy, kept to himself more. This didn’t totally confirm it but I was getting a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. A bit of guilt coursed through me at how I had acted around DJ at the pool the other day. And another worry burrowed its way into my mind as well. Whoever Heath Hall was, I felt a connection with him. What if it turned out to be DJ? What if it turned out to be none of the above? Someone I didn’t know at all?
What about you? he asked.
Nope, I don’t have a dog to get mad at me.
Are you not an animal fan?
How did Heath Hall always turn everything back to me? After reading through our conversations, I realized there wasn’t much he’d said about himself. Just general things. And he was doing it again.
What is going on tomorrow night? Why the vague announcement?
Are you going to come?
I don’t know yet.
You should. You missed the last one.
You noticed?
Doesn’t everybody notice you?
My fingers froze on the keyboard. Amelia may have claimed I wouldn’t know what flirting was if it slapped me in the face, but I knew that was flirting. Had my flirting with DJ in real life encouraged him to flirt with me now?
Did I scare you away? he asked.
No . . . it’s just weird because you know me and I don’t know you.
You know me.
I know a lot of people.
You soaked me and my sweater the other day.
The blood rushed from my face, leaving it numb. He just told me who he was. I couldn’t believe he just told me who he was. He was DJ . . . or Jackson. Was he talking about soaking him with pool water or tears?
Crap.
I was supposed to react now. He knew it was a big deal to tell me, and it was. And now