The Takedown(68)

“And here I thought you were an independent eighteen-year-old. Guess we’d better take back the platinum Amex then. Wall: News.”

“I haven’t used your stupid credit card in months.”

No. That couldn’t be possible. Audra was dropping loads of money—the Elites, the expensive clothes, the museum memberships, H-double-L, my boxing lessons. Just the other day she’d come to school carrying a bag that she insisted was a knockoff, but when I Sourced it, my Doc said it sold at Barneys.com for three grand. No way could she afford that without her parents’ money.

Audra pushed away from the table, her eyes bright with tears. “Enjoy the news.”

She stormed out of the room.

All this time, I’d been wondering what I’d done to motivate AnyLies to make the video. I’d assumed it had something to do with competition (Jessie). Or vengeance (Ailey or Brittany). Or distanced dislike (anonymous you-tell-me). But what if it wasn’t as complicated as that?

Thanks to EToday, my video had now been watched over eight million times. If the person who posted it made even just a penny off each view thanks to the ads, that was at least eighty grand. What if this had only ever been about money?

“Someone’s having a dramatic day,” the Mother sighed.

I slid away from the table without thanking the Parents for dinner. I wished I could shut off my brain. Who loved Audra better than me and the girls? We were all she had. I couldn’t think these things about her. I also couldn’t stop thinking them.

“Kyle,” the Mother said, as I was nearly out the dining room door. Though she continued to stare at her Doc, her light complexion burned red. “If you ever have children, hope for boys.”

On the landing outside her bedroom, I tried Audra’s doorknob only to find it locked.

“It’s only me, Audy; can I come in?”

“No,” Audra wailed.

On the other side of the door, I heard her check the lock.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then let me in, silly. I hate seeing you miserable. I found a new baby panda vid for you.”

“I can’t right now. I’m not decent. Kylie, all I want to do is take a long bath. I’ll Face you in a few, okay?”

Out on the stoop, I had a brilliant idea that would hopefully not only cheer Audra up but remind me that the only title she held in my life was best friend. If my plan also distracted me from spending the rest of the evening thinking about Mac’s date then we all equaled winners.

Group txting all the girls, I wrote that I’d discovered important info about my hater that afternoon and invited them all to an impromptu school-night sleepover at the Cheng house. As I waited for their replies, I couldn’t help noticing that the recycling bin in front of the Rhodes brownstone was filled with cardboard from various tech purchases. As Sharma’s and Fawn’s affirmative responses came back, I looked up at Audra’s window.

She would hate me for this.

Screw it.

I hurried down her steps and rifled through the boxes.

All the shipping labels were addressed to a Ms. Audra Rhodes. I was about to stop—this didn’t prove anything—when something caught my eye. There, wedged down between the boxes for a new camera lens and a backup drive, was the slim cardboard packaging for a GoFetch drive.

My Doc buzzed with Audra’s txt tone.

I whirled around and looked up at her window. It was dark.

audy Catch your hater-themed sleepover? Wouldn’t dream of missing it.





“Let the Crush Kyla’s Hater—subtheme Ninja Comfort—sleepover commence,” Fawn cheered two hours later, hoisting a wineglass of grapefruit juice and seltzer.

On my walk home from Audra’s, I’d txted my mom to get permission for the Monday night sleepover. She replied that it was fine, that she was too busy to run out and grab us snacks, and that tonight everyone in the Cheng family would be using the EatIn account to order food for themselves when they got hungry and that we were welcome to do the same. I think she was just as relieved as I was that the girls were coming over. It meant another night’s distance from our fight. Tomorrow, we’d go back to being in the same room. Day after that, we’d be back to having stilted conversations, and life would return to how it had been for the last three-plus years.

Now, white takeout bags littered my floor. Fawn, Audra, and I were lying shoulder to shoulder widthwise on my bed, all of us dressed in black-on-black pairings of pj’s and sweats. Audra was on her back in the middle; Fawn and I were on our bellies on either side with our ankles linked in the air. Sharma sat on the floor with her Doc on her lap. And Kyle sat in front of Fawn, looking like the time his raffle number was called at Kicks and he won a new pair of trainers. I didn’t normally beg Kyle to hang out with us when the girls were over, but right then I needed my family.

My blood was boiling.

Audra owned half the tech on the market and a GoFetch drive. Audra had been suspiciously averse to helping me figure out who made the video, when I’d once seen the old Audra go all lioness-protecting-her-cub on Charity Knowles for pointing out that my shirt was wrinkled. “The only thing wrinkled here is your [C-word], betch.” Never mind that Audra kept telling me I should be grateful for what was happening to me. Or that she suddenly had loads of money. Or that she’d taken a weird liking to Mac.