I have two messages.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Training Meeting
Phoebe,
As you overheard, your place on the team is conditional on your placing in the first meet. That is in three weeks. Come by my office after school so we can talk about your training schedule.
Coach Lenny
I send him a response saying I’ll be there as soon as I get out of Philosophy. Then I save his message in my Running folder and move on to the second message. It’s not from California.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: No Subject
Making the team was the easy part.
G
Teeth grinding, I click the delete button. That message disappears. . . . but another pops up in its place. I hit delete again. Another message pops up. Delete. Pop-up. Delete. Pop-up, pop-up, pop-up. Delete, delete, del—
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: No Subject
You can’t get rid of me with the delete key.
Remember who has powers.
G
“Son of a—”
“Something wrong?” Damian looks up from his papers.
“Um, no,” I mumble.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Balance of Power
Remember who can tell Coach Lenny about zapped shoe
laces.
P
I send the message and Griffin’s annoying pop-ups disappear. Very satisfied, I am about to close out of e-mail when the instant messenger opens.
TrojanTiger: Phoebe? you there?
Who is that? Maybe it’s Griffin trying to get at me another way— that guy spends way too much time devising ways to torment me. And all I’ve done is dare to go to his school. Can’t he tell I don’t want to be here any more than he wants me here?
Besides, isn’t a Trojan-something a really bad virus? Maybe he’s trying to trash my computer. I almost think about letting him, because he’d really be destroying Damian’s computer and that would get him in a lot of trouble.
But I decide it’s not worth it. I need to get back to my reading. My cursor is over the close button when another message comes through.
TrojanTiger: it’s me Troy.
LostPhoebe: Troy! I thought you were someone else.
TrojanTiger: disappointed?
LostPhoebe: no!!!
LostPhoebe: relieved
TrojanTiger: <vbg> how were tryouts?
LostPhoebe: made the team
TrojanTiger: knew you would
LostPhoebe: that makes one of us
TrojanTiger: ha ha
The cursor blinks at me. I don’t know what else to say. I mean, Troy is being super nice to me, but why? And do I want a guy to be super nice to me? Sure, he’s cute and sweet and everything I should want in a guy, but do I? When do girls ever like the guy they should?
Besides, it doesn’t look like he knows what else to say, either. Blink, blink, blink.
TrojanTiger: still there?
LostPhoebe: yeah
LostPhoebe: you?
TrojanTiger: yeah
LostPhoebe: okay
Blink, blink, blink.
TrojanTiger: well TrojanTiger: just wanted to check in
LostPhoebe: thanks
TrojanTiger: better go finish my homework
LostPhoebe: me too
LostPhoebe: more reading for lit
TrojanTiger: finish!
TrojanTiger: tyrant quizzes
I glance at Damian. He’s focused on his stack of papers and doesn’t notice me watching. I’ll give him one point on the plus side for cluing me in about the quiz.
LostPhoebe: heard about that
LostPhoebe: almost done
TrojanTiger: okay see you tomorrow?
LostPhoebe: of course!
TrojanTiger: save me a seat at lunch
TrojanTiger: unless you sit with Ares now
LostPhoebe: as if!
LostPhoebe: they wouldn’t have me even if I wanted to
LostPhoebe: and I so don’t want to!
TrojanTiger: good <vbg>
LostPhoebe: night
TrojanTiger: night
The message window closed.
I sigh. Animal Farm is calling.
Sliding the keyboard tray back under the desk, I stand and head for the door.
Damian stops me before I get there. “Since you rely so heavily on electronic communications to keep in touch with your friends,” he says. “Your mother and I have decided you need a laptop computer.”
I spin back to face him. “Really?”
“And an Internet connection in your room.” He hasn’t looked up from his papers, but I can see him smiling just a little at my enthusiastic reaction.
“That’s great!”
“Hesper will pick up the computer when she travels to Serifos on Friday. The connection will be installed tomorrow.”
Friday? That’s only two days away. Two days until complete freedom of Internet access in the privacy of my room.
“Wow, Damian, that’s—” Amazing? Wonderful? Terrific? Nothing seems to say exactly what I mean, so I just say, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Turning, I start to bounce out of the room.
“Just don’t spend all your time conversing with Mr. Travatas. Your studies come first.”