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Dana had talked with her friends online last night after Oddworld. “Don’t pretend to like him!” said Astrelle A, her friend with a fox-girl avatar. “Transparent city. Guys own fake-out detectors!” Her other friend, KKC, hated using spaces online. “Waitaminute. She’sgotanidea. Really. Whenyoulikeaguy YOU trytofindouteverythingabouthim!! Right? Peoplewillhelpyoubecauseits CuTeCuTe!” Eventually they had hammered out a plan. She would use her “girly skills” to figure out what he was up to. At first Dana protested, but when her friends told her that she was like a social private detective, they could barely type in a word edgewise.

Armed with a printout of people in Brandon’s classes that she knew, Dana realized that this wasn’t going to be that difficult after all. Between her geek connections and her chorus connections, she knew a wide variety of people in different grades. She even had good angles that should work on most of them. Early Thursday morning, she began stalking the school for people on her hit list.

* * * *

The school day stumbled to a close with a typical herky-jerky alternating slow-and-fast rhythm typical of inbetween days. Brian’s parents were picking him up at school because they were going out to eat, so Brandon sped home by himself. He paused at home just long enough to drop off his backpack and then he was back on his bike, headed for the DMIC.

He arrived a few minutes early, locked up his bike, and headed inside. The lobby was quiet as usual, and everyone had gathered in the strategy room just like last Thursday. Brandon greeted everyone and settled in between Wenchy and HIM, eagerly grabbing two slices of pizza and a glass full of soda. He tried to sit a little bit closer to Wenchy that he usually did, but not close enough that she’d notice.

Wenchy looked over at Brandon and placed a finger to her lips. Then she passed him a forest green folder with the letters “YMS” written in gilt calligraphy on the front. Then she added, “Pass this along to your mom. She’s the only other living person that can see this. Of course, you can show it to all the dead people you like.” Brandon groaned inwardly. As he perused the contents, he realized that like the DMIC, no-one would believe him if he told them. For a split second, he wished for his old, not-as-exciting life back.

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