The Takedown(48)

But come on. If Audra had told me she’d found a way to prove she wasn’t in the sex video that was stalking her, I’d have relayed that info to Sharma the moment she walked through my door.

When no one responded, Audra cleared her throat, then trilled, “In happier news, the B&P goddess did another piece about you.”

“Audra,” I exploded, “I don’t want to hear it. Not right now. Hello, college admissions boards. My name’s Kyla Cheng. This is my sex video, and here are all the related links on this teenager’s porn page.”

“It’s not like that.” The Doc violently swung around as Audra grabbed it. “She’s trying to get two million views on the post so it knocks the Mr. E. video from the first spot on your G-File. The post is about how if this happened to a boy, no one would care. How he’d benefit socially from it. How Parkside Prep would be working harder to take it down. It ties it together with how our culture only slut-shames girls. It’s saying all the things you should be saying and is all-caps FE-MI-NIST. There’s fifty thousand likes already.”

“And let me guess, this deep piece of writing is accompanied by the Bra&Panties slut in her barely theres? Auds, if it’s on B&P, it’s not fe-mi-anything. What I’d like is for the BTCH to leave me alone and stop using my misfortune to get herself more views.”

When Audra txted me a link to the B&P slut’s new and improved site over the summer, it was all-caps DISLIKE at first click. Since I made a point of not hating on other girls—the world did that enough for us—I kept my comments about the content of the pics to myself, but under all the posts I pasted links to volunteering organizations, articles about self-esteem, and links to the sites of famous women authors, scientists, and politicians.

Audra had instantly FaceAlerted me, her face bright pink with anger.

“Why would you do that? You’re trolling her!”

“Oh no,” I said, mortified. “I thought you sent the link because it was ridiculous. I mean, Die-For-Worthy? They’re rain boots.”

“Made out of recycled rubber. I sent the link because I thought you’d think this was cool. I think it’s cool.”

“We don’t have to like the same thing all the time, Auds.”

Now Audra held the Doc a little farther away from her face. Her hair was pressed against her head as if she’d taken off a tight cap.

“What do you mean if it’s on B&P it isn’t fe-mi-anything? Don’t you listen to me at all? My whole point in trying to get you to follow her is to prove that just because a girl is sexual it doesn’t mean she’s antiwoman or a slut. Fifty percent of her followers are women.”

“Agree to disagree, ladies,” Sharma called out.

The captain of the debate team? Not likely.

“Half the slut’s viewers are girls, not women. Girls, Audra. What example is that setting?”

“What example are you setting? Maybe stop calling her a slut so much. That ‘slut’ was approached to do a running post for Vogue.com. I think the lesson there is that enough gumption gets you what you want. Maybe she’s not your perfect President Malin with her immigrant parents and public-school education, but I find her hugely inspiring and you’re making an argument that you know nothing about. You’d never let yourself be this uninformed in debate. Never mind that you’re unfairly persecuting her for the exact reasons you’re being unfairly persecuted. But fine, agree to totally all-caps DISAGREE. Kissy face.”

The FaceAlert screen went end over end.

“Hey,” I said as my screen showed a close-up of carpet. “Don’t toss me.”

“Sorry, pookie,” Audra called out. “It slipped.”

“Wait. What did you call me?”

From the other side of my Doc, a door slammed. Sharma came on-screen.

“She stormed out, didn’t she?” I let out a shaky breath. “Sharmie, have you noticed that Audra’s a little more Audra lately? Do you ever think she’d take anything out on us?”

“Stop. Are you equal-signing Audra to AnyLies?”

Hearing it out loud sounded as bad as thinking it. This was Audra, my snarky best friend, not some webisode’s cliché mean-girl villain. And so, fine, maybe I’d double-checked—correction, tried to double-check—that it wasn’t her at her parents’ house, but I knew deep down that AnyLies was not Audra.

Sharma and I stared at each other. Or, rather, I stared at Sharma, her eyes flickering over Audra’s Doc. Sharma was holding Audra’s Doc. And it was unlocked.

“Kyle,” Sharma said. “No doubt Audra equals unhappy person. But she’s one of us. Would you think I did this to you? Audra wants to be loved more than anything. By you, especially.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Simple. Kyle equals perfection.”

“Even so, you won’t check Audra’s Doc for the source video? Just to be sure?”

Sharma frowned, like Weren’t you listening? But then a sly grin tugged at her lips; she pushed her glasses up on her nose.

“Already did. It’s not there.”





As it officially became the Eve of Christmas, I slaughtered Kyle in Wooded Escape.

“Thanks for shooting me through the heart and lighting me on fire,” he cried, as I proceeded to trap him in a hedge maze. “We’re supposed to be on the same team. Argghhh, vines everywhere.”