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Chapter 6: Reprecussions

The Wishmewell’s alarm woke a glassy-eyed Cameron up the next morning. He was one of those people who don’t sleep well on bad expectations. He watched the little domino kids walk out of their houses in the same order they did yesterday through his portal. He sighed. He waited a minute or two for them to scurry off in their different directions, just as he promised he’d do yesterday. Then he walked out of his room to see Ashley sprawled out in a chair at the table, music on her Wishmewell still blaring in her ear. He stopped to snicker and then walked out of the suite to used Academy 3’s bathroom.
When he came back, Ashley was still asleep, listening to music. This is getting embarrassing, he thought, after having to shoo away a few “morning troublemakers” who were trying to spray-paint horns around Ashley’s head through the window. Carefully, he took her earphones off, wincing at the loud music that blared at him. He turned off her Wishmewell, which already needed to be charged.
He went back to his bedroom and changed from his pajamas to school clothes. He noticed his green-shaded glasses next to his bed. He slipped them on and did a little pose. Oh, he’d probably never get over those.
He pocketed the glasses and went out into the kitchen. Lukewarm blueberry waffles awaited him at the table, compliments of the babysitter. Ashley herself was eating at the counter, listening to music again, but now awake enough to eat.
Ahh… medium temperature, butter soaked blueberry waffles. Just the way he liked them. He soon ate them up, and wondered what he was going to do for the next hour. He would just settle for his game. But then, he thought in a cheerful mood, what would happen once he finished his game?

“I’m going to school, Ashley!”
“What?”
“I’m going to school!”
“WHAT?”
“I SAID I’M GOING TO SCHOOL!”
Ashley took her earphones off. “Oh,” she paused. “Have a good second day! Don’t let anyone push you around, and good luck with the girls. Your mom told me that I should give you an hour after school to wander a little, so I’ll expect you back by––” She stopped, not knowing what time Cameron got out of school.
“2:00” he completed for her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back. And please, um, lower the volume on your Wishmewell incase I need to contact you.” Cameron suddenly got a bad feeling. Ashley acted like she didn’t know the volume was a problem, but nodded vigorously that she’d fix it.
So Cameron left the suite to go to school. He felt slightly nervous, but yet calmed by the fact that he could go to his first period without joining a line and being stuffed into the multi-purpose room first.
He meant to walk through the multi-purpose room, but Max came up from behind and turned him toward the orange locker hall. Cameron turned around to push back, but Max was bigger than him, so he easily wheeled Cameron toward the lockers.
“What are you doing?!” Cameron squeaked in fear, turning around toward Max.
“I know that your first period is Ms. Wirey, and it’s much easier to get to her classroom through here! You don’t have to bite my head off about it.” Max examined Cameron closer.
“You didn’t go see Clarisse, did you?”
“How DID you know that?”
“I’m a Sophomore. I can tell everything. Look Cameron, I don’t understand your paranoia––”
“Max, I don’t have time for this! I’ve got to get to Tech.” And with that, Cameron left to run towards room 229. He opened the door and found himself in the front of Ms. Wirey’s room, behind the long desk with laptops and other devices.
“Ahem,” She said curtly, sitting at the far corner. “Take a seat, please.”
Cameron squeezed between the desk and the wall, sitting down at the nearest chair.
Beginning her lesson, she asked the class, “Who can tell me what Freeware is?” Several people raised their hand, including Cameron. She picked the boy next to him. He was almost entirely dressed in black, except for a white shirt. The white shirt had a black spider on it.
“Kevin?”
“Freeware describes a program that you get off the internet for free.”
“Excellent. So far this class has a memory span of twenty-four hours.”
She moved on to test them on basic Wishmewell prowess–– how to charge them, how to lower the volume, adjusting the brightness and contrast, and how to send e-mail. Most students already knew how to do that sort of stuff, but it was only the second day.
Then it was English. The crowd stood around the hall loosely, until they saw Mr. Rider coming. Then they fell toward the wall as if gravity was pushing them. They looked somewhat like flies without wings.
“Very well done!” Mr. Rider beamed when he saw them. “The restraint! You’re all trying hard to impress your teacher.”
“I just think about the root beer floats we’re going to get,” A large boy with spiky hair said to Kevin, the boy with the spider on his shirt.
Mr. Rider beckoned them in, and the line broke up just as it did yesterday in a mad rush to get into the classroom. Once Cameron was seated (this time next to a guy with a sleek black suit with a white circle in front, making him look like an 8-ball) , Mr. Rider started passing out the papers that they had written yesterday. 8-ball slid a paper to Cameron with his name on it and a large red circled A on it. This is a good start, Cameron thought.
“Now that everyone knows how to write my name,” Mr. Rider said, exasperated, “I want you to roam. Write one page (the page won’t be long on this kind of paper) about someone you look up to. Try to treat it as if you were really writing an essay. The page is due by…eh… 8:40. You can help each other if you want. Now, get started.”
Cameron could think of only two people he really looked up to: his mother and Max. This paper would definitely be about his mother. After writing about four sentences, Mr. Rider walked over to him with some lined paper in his hand.
“I think you’ve moved from this sort of paper, Cameron. You’re in the big league now,” he said, putting a sheet of it on Cameron’s desk. “I expect you to fill at least half of it. If you can’t finish it today, turn it in tomorrow, okay?” Cameron nodded. Mr. Rider went over to his calendar, using it to check roll.
At 8:40, Cameron was half done with his paper, but not finished with his essay yet. Many students were just wrapping it up though. “Hold it!” Mr. Rider yelled when they started to get up to turn the papers in. “I’ll give extra credit to anyone who wants to read theirs.”
Out of the entire class, one girl raised her hand. It was the blonde with ribbons in her hair. Clarisse and Clover looked somehow amused at her proclamation.
“And your name is…?” Mr. Rider asked her.
“Laney Landry.” Clarisse was now twirling her finger around her ear.
Mr. Rider beckoned her to the podium. She stood on top of the booster and began to read.
“The One true Person I Look Up To, by me. My one true person is my guardian, my toy, and my best friend. It is not a real person, but a computer program called C-dabbler. I found it on the internet at www.c_dabbler.org. I can log on to him any time and he’ll talk to me. He taught me how to write, so that’s why this essay’s long. He’s my only friend, and my best friend. That’s all.” Laney stepped down from the podium and took her seat in the far corner of the room again.
“That’s very… nice,” Mr. Rider complimented, evidently at a loss of what else to say.
“Cuckoo, cuckoo,” Clarisse commented. “Somebody’s been spending too much time on the computer.” Clover laughed.
Cameron felt sorry for her. He was also a little nervous of her… was she what that show called “Stream crazy”? He looked angrily at Clarisse and Clover, who were still poking fun at her. If some people would just stop making fun of her, maybe C-dabbler wouldn’t be her only friend…

In geometry, the class worked on decoding simple patterns, and Cameron received his very first homework sheet in math–– 31 problems, complete all. Actually, an English paper, and Geometry homework. Boy was Cameron going to have fun tonight.
Biology was a continuation of yesterday’s lesson. Except Clarisse and Clover insisted on playing bumper cars with Laney’s micro-ship on the drip catcher screen. Mrs. Camilla warned them both that if they didn’t stop trying to distract Laney, then they’d both get homework. At the end of the lesson, they started a lab worksheet that they’d continue the next day.
In Career Planning, Cameron walked into a dark room. He saw the desk, and Jerry Boss interrogating a young girl. It was Laney.
The desk and chair disappeared, leaving Laney on the dark, cold floor. The lights turned on, revealing a normal classroom again. Cameron took a seat. “You were tricking me?!” Lan yelled at Boss. “I hate you!” Laney stormed towards the nearest chair, burying herself in her Wishmewell.
“My life is going to end, Clarisse mocked. “’I won’t be able to afford a Wishyouwell.’ Drama club is that way...”
Cameron stood up. “What do you have against her?” He yelled at Clarisse. This had a peculiar effect on her. She looked at Cameron and frowned, then looked away. Clover looked at him with disgust.
Cameron knew what it was like to think your life is over–– Jerry Boss had pulled the same trick on him. What rotten people those two girls were if they were going to criticize her, when they didn’t even know what it was like!
Mr. Boss began handing out homework sheets. Cameron couldn’t even begin to talk about him, springing that simulation on freshman when their guard was down. He took a sheet. He would do the sheet, but he wouldn’t like it.

P.E. was next. Max was next to Cameron in an instant. Cameron was about to tell him off when he saw Laney. If Max knew all, then he must know what she was like.
“Hey Max.” Max looked slightly surprised that Cameron spoke first. “Can you tell me about her?” Cameron pointed to Laney, who was again, sitting in a corner, buried in her Wishmewell.
“You’re learning, Cam, you’re learning.” Max said, chuckling. That’s Laney Landry. Everyone says that she’s more wish-washy than a Laundromat. She’s obsessed with anything computers. One may even say she is one.” He chuckled again, but Cameron didn’t find this funny. “If you’re looking for another girlfriend, I wouldn’t suggest her!” Max walked away, laughing to himself.
Cameron began to prepare to fit into a grid, but just then, Clarisse’s friend Clover walked up to Cameron, furious.
“What did you do?” she demanded. “You made Clarisse cry!” She pointed to Clarisse, who was sitting on one of the loose chairs by the doors to the hall, crying just loud enough for Cameron to hear. A dark-skinned, dark-haired girl was mopping up her tears with a tissue.
“You stood her up! She asked you on a date, and you stood her up!”
“She didn’t ask me! She TOLD me to!”
“That’s right! She thought you actually liked her and she was trying to give you her hand of friendship! And you smashed it!”
She took out her Wishmewell and pressed a button on it. “She told me to give you this.’ She told him, and walked away. Cameron took out his Wishmewell and saw the new message:

Received 12:03 PM. Sender: GreenCoat

Fwd from ScaldingHeart
You have scalded my heart forever. I will never love again.

Chapter 7: The Madness of Laney Landry

Laney< They made fun of me. They called me names and laughed at me.
C-dabbler< I am sorry, Laney. They don’t sound very nice.
Laney< They aren’t!
C-dabblerLaney< You’re never called me wise before!
C-dabbler< You are, Laney. Instead of depending on humans to be your friends, you turn
C-dabbler< to me
LaneyC-dabbler< Thank you Laney. You are my best friend.
C-dabbler< But it occurs to me that you could have many friends.
Laney< How is that?
C-dabbler< If I am your friend, then you could have many more friends like me.
Laney< but how?
C-dabbler< There are many more like me. But before they can truly be your friend, you
C-dabbler< have to believe that the Stream is real first. Do you choose to believe?

Laney’s eyes were wide as she stared at C-dabbler’s question. She was sitting at her computer in her own suite. She was trembling for some reason.

Laney< Yes, I believe.
C-dabbler< Good. For what is the difference between a human friend and a simulation
C-dabbler< friend? They are both the same. But only one of them can turn against you.

She stopped trembling. It was all crystal clear now.

Laney< Yes, one of them can turn against you. They are crude and unwise.
C-dabbler< They don’t have to be. You can be a prophet and change them.
Laney< They will not listen.
C-dabbler< You have to make them listen.

And then he told her what to do. Her first followers would be the students at Academy 3. She would do it tonight, when there was hardly anyone there.

C-dabbler< I am downloading the necessary Freeware into your Wishing Device. When
C-dabbler< you are ready to leave your crude life behind, activate Loveless’ Wish.
Laney< thank you C-dabbler. I will change them. Soon they’ll see the error of their ways.

“They’ll all see!” Laney laughed maniacally.
The bedroom door opened slightly. Are you okay?” Laney’s mom asked Laney, whose head was face down on the keyboard. “Yes, mom, I’m okay,” she replied, and the door was shut.
“More okay than I’ve ever been.”

It was 8:00. Cameron didn’t know what to do. He tried doing his Geometry homework, but he couldn’t concentrate on the patterns in the number sequences. He tried filling out the “What Color are You” sheet that Jerry Boss had handed them, but he had a hard time figuring out whether he was aesthetic or family oriented. And he tried doing his English paper, but he had trouble thinking about his mom as well.
So he turned on his game. The trusty old game. Always an escape from his worries. Upon the first level though, he ran into a baddie and died. He went to another level. Died again. He groaned. Clarisse had TOLD him to come. She didn’t even get his consent or anything. Did she really expect him, as nervous as he was, to come?
But as Clover had told him, it was merely the fact that he didn't show up that counted against him. He showed her he didn’t care. But he really didn’t! She was just a girl he knew, and nothing more! Stupid Max, for getting him into this mess… stupid Clover for making him look like the bad guy… stupid Clarisse for being so sensitive!
You aren’t helping! You’re supposed to help me not think about it! He thought fiercely at his Wishmewell, and threw it to the ground.
WHAM! The machine hit the ground. “All documents in School File… deleted,” it announced, in a computerized voice.
Cameron picked up his Wishmewell in horror. He had just accidentally deleted his Geometry and Career Planning homework. He hadn’t finished much of it, true… but how would he get the assignments back? He didn’t really remember what he was supposed to do.
He looked through the suite window at Academy 3 and remembered that students were allowed there before 10:00. It was 8:20 now. He could go there and get his assignments back. There probably wouldn’t be any crowds. After all, at 8:20 at night, there would hardly be anyone there.
He got up from the table and peeked into the family room, where Ashley was listening to music on the drip-catcher.
“ASHLEY?” Ashley took off her earphones. “Yeah?”
“I accidentally lost some of my assignments, so I’m going to run over to my school to see if I can get them back, okay?
“Okay.”
“If I’m not home by nine, come looking for me, okay?”
“Okay. Be careful.”
“I will,” Cameron said, and shut the door.
Cameron walked out of the suite, closing the door behind him. He started walking toward the school when he saw Laney Landry walking toward him.
“Hey Laney,” He said casually.
“Hello, Cameron,” she replied, holding her Wishmewell high like a knife.

Chapter 8: Behind HD43

“Hey Laney, I … what are you doing with your Wishmewell?”
Laney lowered the Wishmewell. She hadn’t expected Cameron to greet her like that.
“You’re not going to push me aside? Or call me Laney Laundry?”
“Of course not!” Cameron exclaimed. “Look, I don’t know where those people get off, doing that to you. You’re a human being just like anyone else. I just wanted you to know that if you ever need a friend, I’m here.”
Laney’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I have a friend already. His name is c-dabbler. Are you saying that computer programs can’t be someone’s friend?”
“No, I didn’t say that, I’m just saying that if you ever need a human friend––“
“You are saying that! You’re trying to tell me that a human friend is better than a simulation friend!”
“No, I just––“
“You are biased. I’ll cleanse you.” She held up her Wishmewell again and stepped forward, towards Cameron. He stepped back.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to cleanse you of your bias. Once you gaze at the fractal on my Wishmewell screen, you’ll have no more of these harmful feelings.”
“I like my feelings!”
“Once we are both cleansed, we will be friends in the Stream. And you’ll see the truth about C-dabbler.”
Realism told Cameron to stay put. Something in his gut, however, told Cameron Cameron it was the right time to be dramatic. He ran for it. Laney tore after. Cameron ran into the school entrance, and found himself faced with two decisions- the purple hall, where the bathrooms were, or the orange locker hall, where the light was always dimmed. If he went into the boys’ bathroom, Laney might not go in there. Then again, if she did, he’d be trapped. But he could also seek a competent teacher down there, whereas even if he did manage to find a teacher in the orange hall rooms, it probably wouldn’t be one he’d trust. He moved toward the purples hall and saw Laney on the other side of the doorway. “Surprise,” she said, still pointing the Wishmewell at him. He caught a glance of the fractal.
It was a green and gray swirl , and it was pulsating off the walls, illuminating them, drawing Cameron in from all directions. Come on Cameron… a voice around him urged, it’ll be fun, being a computer program…you’ll have no stress…no crazy teachers…no love…no emotions… ever…
“No!” Cameron exclaimed, and wrenched his gaze away from the fractal, trembling madly. He tore down the hall, desperate to gain distance between himself and Laney.
Laney had used the Conference Room entrance to get into the purples hall first, because she already knew Cameron was going to go that way. And she knew she had the time to take a detour because Cameron would be deciding which door to go through. An impossible, computer-like move! He remembered what Max had said about Laney: “She’s obsessed with anything computers. One may even say she is one.”
Cameron hurried to the most random locker, opened it up, and got in. He watched Laney enter the hall after him through the slits in the door.
“Come on, Cameron. I know you’re in one of these lockers. Just come out now. The Stream will catch you sooner or later…”
Cameron thought of something. There were drip catchers all over the place, all showing a map of HD43. It was only Laney’s first day, and he knew she had an attention problem. If he logged onto HD43 and made pixel-Cameron “step out” of his locker, the place where it usually slept, maybe Laney would see it on a drip-catcher and think it was a map, actually showing him doing it! Then he could use it to direct Laney away from him so he could go back to his suite and lock the door.
It was worth a shot.
He took out his Wishmewell and accessed “HD43”. Pixel Cameron stepped out of its locker. Cameron saw Laney stare at the drip catcher.
“What are you playing at?” she said, not impressed. “Oh well, you aren’t worth the trouble anyway. You’re no better than the rest of them. If you aren’t here to stop me, then I’ll just get on with my mission…to have friends… to be a part of the stream… to become… immortal…” She flipped the Wishmewell around and forced the fractal upon herself.
Cameron suddenly lost his balance as the world flew out of perspective from within the confined space of the locker. A shrill scream filled the air…it was suddenly very cold. Cameron staggered to his feet, and peeked at Laney through the slits in the locker.
The old Laney was always looking around herself suspiciously. This one’s eyes were fixed straight ahead. She was standing straight up, stiff and aloof. She didn’t look, or feel human anymore. Something was gone.
“See Cameron?” she said in a flat, non-vibrating voice. “I have been cleansed now. Don’t you want to join me? I sense you do not. No matter. I see you looking at me, Cameron.” She stepped up to the locker so that she was now staring at him through the slits. She lifted the Wishmewell up to the slits. “You will.”
“NO!” Cameron yelled, and kicked the locker open. Laney flew dramatically across the hall and landed against a drip-catcher, shattering part of the screen. She got up slowly, shards of glass in her hair. The drip catcher was not completely broken. She turned around and started using it with unnatural speed.
Cameron ran for the nearest door to besiege himself. Bad idea. It was the Media Room, Biology. But this time the walls were not showing wildlife shows–– they were showing the inside of HD43.
Pixel-Laney was now outside her locker. She said: “I am programming myself into HD43. When everyone logs on tomorrow, they will encounter a copy of me and see Loveless’ Wish. Then everyone in this school will be a child of the stream. And they’ll be better people for it.”
And with horror, Cameron watched Pixel Laney duplicate. And duplicate. She was sending copies of herself throughout the server!
“And now, Cameron, you will become my comrade.” With no indication so much as a whoosh, the fractal washed over all six television screens, including the floor. Full of dread, Cameron hunkered down, covering his eyes with his hands. But he couldn’t do this all night. It was over. Cameron was going to be part of the Stream. Unless he could find the door while trying to keep his eyes closed!
Maybe he could.
He hopped all over the room, feeling the screens for an iron surface. At last, he found it. His hand traveled upwards until he felt a lever. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.
Thinking fast, he took out his Wishmewell. He wasn’t going to use it; he was going for the stylus that came with it. He slid an extra screen out of the side. To the side of it was a tray with the stylus that he used to work the touch screen.
He inserted the stylus into the keyhole and wiggled it around. The lock clicked. He pulled the lever again and tumbled out of the room into a hall that never looked so much more inviting.
Laney was still fiddling with the drip catcher. Cameron, in a sudden heroic move, jumped onto her, and tapped the drip-catcher. The image on it became static. The light stopped coming from the Media Room, to Cameron’s relief.
Contrary to what Cameron thought, Laney was not unconscious. She grabbed her Wishmewell, got up, and pushed it at Cameron again. He took off toward the entrance and ran out of the school, Laney chasing after him.
Cameron ran towards his suite and tugged at the door, but that was evidently locked too. And his makeshift lock pick was still stuck in the keyhole of the Media Room door. The blinds were closed on the windows of the suite and Cameron could hear the loud music.
“Ashley, you idiot! Open up!” but Laney was catching up, so he had no choiceb ut to keep running. He decided he’d call Ashley. He selected his suite’s drip-catcher’s number on his Wishmewell. It rang. And rang. Finally, Ashley answered.
“Loved residence,” Ashley said. “How may I help you?”
“Ashley,” he yelled into the Wishmewell. “I’m being chased by a crazy girl!”
“Good for you! Are you coming home soon?”
“No, you don’t understand, she’s nuts!”
“Okay, that’s alright. You can have an extra hour. Have fun!”
She hung up.
Cameron clenched the Wishmewell in his fist with anger. He was personally going to make sure his mom killed Ashley when she got home.
There was one last place to go…
They were nearing the smoothie shop.
Cameron ran inside, and saw Clarisse at the counter, and Clover next to her, looking entertained at Cameron’s panic.
“You have to help me!” He said breathlessly. “Laney’s chasing me, and she’s trying to…trying to…
Laney arrived in the doorway just in time to confirm his claim. She stared at Clarisse and Clover.
“This will be more satisfying than I thought; getting to cleanse my two worst foes.” She smiled evilly, raising her Wishmewell. Clover dashed to the back room to hide in the bathroom.
“No you don’t!” Clarisse yelled. She took out her own Wishmewell and pushed Cameron aside; he landed in a chair. Closing her eyes, she fiddled with her Wishmewell and raised it towards Laney’s.
“They say that Wishmewell’s can’t Wish, that children are too young to handle the power. I don’t care.” With that said, Clarisse deleted Laney’s fractal.
“No!” Laney screamed. She charged for Clarisse, but Clarisse raised her Wishmewell again, this time with a blue fractal unfolding from the screen. Laney, addicted, was instantly transfixed. Clarisse held it steady over Laney. Her eyes began to droop, and she grabbed a hold of the counter, her strength failing her.
“You can’t get rid of me…” She murmured. “I’m part of the Stream… you’ll never silence me now…I’ll get you… we’ll get all of you…” Her eyes rolled, and she slid down the counter at last.

Chapter 9: Wishing you well for next time

There was a long pause in which Cameron and Clarisse just stared at Laney’s body. Then Clover peeked out of the bathroom and squeaked, “Is she gone yet?” and the silence was broken. Clover dragged Spidershirt, he boy Cameron remembered from Tech Elements, out of a bedroom in the back to help move Laney.
Meanwhile, Cameron just sat there, trembling. He didn’t know what was going on–– why Spidershirt was there, what the swirls were about, how Clarisse's Wishmewell could Wish, or what she had done to Laney. Besides that, he wasn’t quite sure whether to say thank you or yell at her for pushing Laney of the edge.
After Clarisse and Spidershirt had moved Laney into the bedroom, Clarisse walked behind the counter and came out with a deep, red drink. She placed it on Cameron’s table. “Drink this,” she said. It’s a Strawberry Margarita, virgin style. And I guarantee the last part.”
He took a sip of the Margarita. “I’m confused,” he confessed.
“If you’re wondering why my Wishmewell can Wish––“
“No, that’s not important! I’m talking about what you did to Laney!” Clarisse stepped back, frowning.
“Well… let’s just put it this way. Laney messed her mind up with the gray-green swirls. I didn’t know how to stop her, so I sued the blue swirls to… well… delete it.”
“You deleted her mind?!”
“More like wiped it clean, and show some gratitude, I saved your life!”
“Don’t give me that! You endangered it in the first place when you and Clover decided that Laney was your own personal playtoy!”
Cameron had hit a nerve; Clarisse cringed away. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Well, it’s too late now! Cameron stormed. “She’s gone now, and who’s to blame?” He stopped. She did seem genuinely sorry. There was really no point in yelling at her anymore. Her guilt would finish the job anyway. And he didn’t want an excuse to vent out the love letter thing. If he was going to yell at her for that, he wanted to make sure he yelled at her for that.
Cameron walked away from Clarisse. She looked at him expectantly. “No,” he said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She walked away to behind the counter, this time looking genuinely hurt.
Cameron walked toward the back room and saw what looked like a bedroom. Laney was lying on its bed. Right now, he had to find some way to contact Ashley and actually get her attention… of course, the others had probably already contacted the police.
He selected Ashley’s number from the list on his Wishmewell and waited as it rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey Ashley!”
“Oh hey Cameron, how did your chase go?”
“OH, beautifully. I’ve got the girl on a bed in somebody’s bedroom right now…
“I’M COMING OVER THERE!” And under the impression that You Know What was about to happen. Ashley rushed over there, headphones still dangling from her ears. When Ashley got there, Spidershirt and Clarisse explained the situation slowly and carefully to her. And being only three years older than any of them, she accepted it and helped herself to some $2.00 virgin Piña Coladas.
There was a loud rap on the door. “Police!”
Clarisse opened the door and a man with a suit, hat, and sunglasses came in. He looked like an FBI agent. He tipped his hat at Clarisse.
“Good Evening. My name is Kirk Collins, Sunshine Agent–I mean, Poiliceman. I was sent here because I got reports that a girl chased a boy around the mall trying to force a digital hallucinogen on them. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And how did you subdue her?”
“We hit her with a margarita mix bottle . It was pretty easy; she looked like he had already had a fall or two.”
“Uh huh…” He took a Wishyouwell out of his pocket and started scribbling on it with his stylus. “Where’s the body?”
“It’s in the back room,” she said. “My brother Kevin and I sometimes use it as a bedroom, so it has a bed in it.”
“Now, who did you say had been chased?” Clarisse turned around and pointed to Cameron, who was finishing the last of his Strawberry Margarita.
“Who, me?”
The agent sat down across from Cameron. “I’ll have what he’s having,” he said to Clarisse, and she passed him a strawberry margarita.
“We need to talk,” he said. Ashley scooted her chair over to the table as well. Cameron told them what happened, the man taking notes on his Wishyouwell the whole time. “…And then Clarisse and Kevin came out and hit her with the margarita bottle. Then Clover went to get… shelter in the bathroom, and Kevin and Clarisse dragged her to the back room. And that’s all that happened.”
“And you are…” the agent asked Ashley.
“I’m the babysitter. The irresponsible babysitter.”
Cameron remembered wanting to get back at Ashley… but he didn’t now. His mother would do the killing, and then the agent would come back, giving him another chance.
The man’s Wishmewell beeped. He read the message. “I believe there’s another case at Academy 3 that’s connected to yours,” he alerted Cameron and Ashley. “You two better come with me.”

“My baby!” Ms. Wirey exclaimed, hugging the shattered drip catcher. “I wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and find that the Media Room door is open and that one of my babies has been broken! I want to know what happened!” She looked accusingly at Cameron. “You threw something at it, didn’t you?”
Yeah… Laney.
“Not something, someone.” The agent corrected her. “Apparently, Cameron was hiding in a locker parallel to the drip catcher to try to get away from Laney. When she realized what locker he was in, he kicked the door open, flinging Laney across the room, where she landed against the drip catcher.”
“He picked the lock of the Media Room so he could watch TV in there! I even found what he picked the lock with!” She held up his stylus. “It was still in the keyhole.”
Geez, she really thought this through, Cameron thought.
The agent took the typing pen. “Miss, he was not trying to force the door open. It was open in the first place. The perpetrator tried to lock him in so he wouldn’t be any trouble while she did her deed. Then he had a stroke of genius and used his stylus to pick the lock.” He twirled the stylus around in his hand.
“Then how’d Laney lock him in there? Answer that!”
Silence.
Ashley looked at the broken drip catcher. She noticed a small platform under it. Flicking her finger at it, it fell off.
“Stop hurting my baby!”
A key dropped to the floor. Ashley picked it up. “Lady, your baby is dead. And I think I know how Laney locked Cameron in. Looks like SOMEONE here likes to use the Media Room to watch TV.”
Ms Wirey ran away, crying.
The agent turned to Cameron. “Look, kid, I know this must have been a bad night for you. What do you want? A lollipop? A gift certificate? What?”
Cameron could think of a lot of things he wanted. He wanted Laney to at least have a mind when she woke up. He wanted to be all right with Clarisse. He wanted this to never have happened. But the agent couldn’t give him these things. So he thought smaller.
“Look, with all this stuff going on, I sort of didn’t do my homework…”

School the next day. First period, Tech Elements. A sulking Ms. Wirey, still suspicious about Cameron, and covered in band-aids after hugging broken glass. Cameron exited through the door next to the lockers this time, meeting Max.
“Hey, I thought you didn’t like this hallway?”
“I got over my fear.” He lied. He was still plenty afraid of this hall; he just liked seeing the broken drip catcher as he walked out.
“You went to Clarisse’s smoothie shop last night, didn’t you?” He said, prancing around him.
“Yep.” Cameron replied smugly.
“And what happenened?”
“A lot. A whole lot. The bedroom was involved, and they had to call the police.”
“Wow…” Max said in awe.
He slipped on his green-tinted glasses. “Talk to you about it later,” he said smoothly, and left Max looking at him as if he was something to worship. He walked on to Mr. Rider’s class, but was distracted by something going on in the multi-purpose room. A lady, their principal, Dr. V, was shouting at Mr. Rider.
“You’ve been teaching them how to write! This isn’t a school where you learn to write! This is a school where you learn to make computers write for you! It says so in our school’s standards.”
“Do you have–um– proof that I’ve been teaching them how to write?” Mr. Rider stuttered.
Dr. V took a crumpled note out of her pocket. “Yes. This note,” she read it aloud.

To: Girlfriend. I think it’s actually sort of neat that Mr. Rider’s been teaching us how to rite, because now we can write notes to each other in class! Love, Mascara.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”
Mr. Rider looked cornered. “Um… I was doing it for their benefit?”
Cameron cut in. “Dr. V, I think it’s very important that we learn to write right now, since HD43’s been deactivated, and it’s going to be a while before Ms. Wirey finishes HD44, we’re not going to have anywhere to store our files for a while.” This took Dr. V by surprise.
“But why can’t all the students just e-mail their messages to the teachers, and the teachers can store them on their Wishyouwells?”
“Because,” Cameron said, “Most Wishyouwells only have a little bitty piece”––he made a diagram with his fingers––“of room on their hard drive for all the schoolwork that a school can assign, and usually it’s not enough. So that’s why everyone’s Wishmewells were connected to HD43, so we could use up its resources, not our own, so our Wishme- and Wishyouwells wouldn’t explode.”
“That’s brilliant!” Dr. V said. “Well…you’re no Mr. Tipperman. I guess we have no choice though. You can teach them how to write…for now. Just don’t ask me for anything else. ”
“Yes ma’am!” Mr. Rider said, and Dr. V walked away.
“Cameron, you saved me!” he said. “Thank you! What do you want?” He asked suspiciously, getting into his bribe stance.
“Nothing,” Cameron said.” You’re paranoid.” Mr. Rider loosened up.
“But seriously,” he said, “What do you want? An extra root beer float on Fun Friday? A homework pass? Lunch with the teacher?”
“No thanks, Mr. Rider.”

As it turned out, neither Mr. Winser nor Mr. Boss accepted the note from the agent, so as of now, he had F’s in both classes. But he didn’t mind. It was only the third day of the semester, and there would be many more assignments.
And for a few days, he didn’t hear about Clarisse, or get bugged by Max. But on the last night of Ashley's babysitting, she called him into the family room. Someone had called him over the drip-catcher. “It’s a girl!” Ashley yelled, and left the room.
Cameron saw Clarisse’s picture, stationary, on the drip-catcher.
“Clarisse?”
“Hey Cameron, I just called to ask you something.”
“How did you get this number?”
“Well that’s not important. I wanted to call to ask if you wanted to see someone with me…”

Description
Chapter 6: Reprecussions

The Wishmewell’s alarm woke a glassy-eyed Cameron up the next morning. He was one of those people who don’t sleep well on bad expectations. He watched the little domino kids walk out of their houses in the same order they did yesterday through his portal. He sighed. He waited a minute or two for them to scurry off in their different directions, just as he promised he’d do yesterday. Then he walked out of his room to see Ashley sprawled out in a chair at the table, music on her Wishmewell still blaring in her ear. He stopped to snicker and then walked out of the suite to used Academy 3’s bathroom.
When he came back, Ashley was still asleep, listening to music. This is getting embarrassing, he thought, after having to shoo away a few “morning troublemakers” who were trying to spray-paint horns around Ashley’s head through the window. Carefully, he took her earphones off, wincing at the loud music that blared at him. He turned off her Wishmewell, which already needed to be charged.
He went back to his bedroom and changed from his pajamas to school clothes. He noticed his green-shaded glasses next to his bed. He slipped them on and did a little pose. Oh, he’d probably never get over those.
He pocketed the glasses and went out into the kitchen. Lukewarm blueberry waffles awaited him at the table, compliments of the babysitter. Ashley herself was eating at the counter, listening to music again, but now awake enough to eat.
Ahh… medium temperature, butter soaked blueberry waffles. Just the way he liked them. He soon ate them up, and wondered what he was going to do for the next hour. He would just settle for his game. But then, he thought in a cheerful mood, what would happen once he finished his game?

“I’m going to school, Ashley!”
“What?”
“I’m going to school!”
“WHAT?”
“I SAID I’M GOING TO SCHOOL!”
Ashley took her earphones off. “Oh,” she paused. “Have a good second day! Don’t let anyone push you around, and good luck with the girls. Your mom told me that I should give you an hour after school to wander a little, so I’ll expect you back by––” She stopped, not knowing what time Cameron got out of school.
“2:00” he completed for her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back. And please, um, lower the volume on your Wishmewell incase I need to contact you.” Cameron suddenly got a bad feeling. Ashley acted like she didn’t know the volume was a problem, but nodded vigorously that she’d fix it.
So Cameron left the suite to go to school. He felt slightly nervous, but yet calmed by the fact that he could go to his first period without joining a line and being stuffed into the multi-purpose room first.
He meant to walk through the multi-purpose room, but Max came up from behind and turned him toward the orange locker hall. Cameron turned around to push back, but Max was bigger than him, so he easily wheeled Cameron toward the lockers.
“What are you doing?!” Cameron squeaked in fear, turning around toward Max.
“I know that your first period is Ms. Wirey, and it’s much easier to get to her classroom through here! You don’t have to bite my head off about it.” Max examined Cameron closer.
“You didn’t go see Clarisse, did you?”
“How DID you know that?”
“I’m a Sophomore. I can tell everything. Look Cameron, I don’t understand your paranoia––”
“Max, I don’t have time for this! I’ve got to get to Tech.” And with that, Cameron left to run towards room 229. He opened the door and found himself in the front of Ms. Wirey’s room, behind the long desk with laptops and other devices.
“Ahem,” She said curtly, sitting at the far corner. “Take a seat, please.”
Cameron squeezed between the desk and the wall, sitting down at the nearest chair.
Beginning her lesson, she asked the class, “Who can tell me what Freeware is?” Several people raised their hand, including Cameron. She picked the boy next to him. He was almost entirely dressed in black, except for a white shirt. The white shirt had a black spider on it.
“Kevin?”
“Freeware describes a program that you get off the internet for free.”
“Excellent. So far this class has a memory span of twenty-four hours.”
She moved on to test them on basic Wishmewell prowess–– how to charge them, how to lower the volume, adjusting the brightness and contrast, and how to send e-mail. Most students already knew how to do that sort of stuff, but it was only the second day.
Then it was English. The crowd stood around the hall loosely, until they saw Mr. Rider coming. Then they fell toward the wall as if gravity was pushing them. They looked somewhat like flies without wings.
“Very well done!” Mr. Rider beamed when he saw them. “The restraint! You’re all trying hard to impress your teacher.”
“I just think about the root beer floats we’re going to get,” A large boy with spiky hair said to Kevin, the boy with the spider on his shirt.
Mr. Rider beckoned them in, and the line broke up just as it did yesterday in a mad rush to get into the classroom. Once Cameron was seated (this time next to a guy with a sleek black suit with a white circle in front, making him look like an 8-ball) , Mr. Rider started passing out the papers that they had written yesterday. 8-ball slid a paper to Cameron with his name on it and a large red circled A on it. This is a good start, Cameron thought.
“Now that everyone knows how to write my name,” Mr. Rider said, exasperated, “I want you to roam. Write one page (the page won’t be long on this kind of paper) about someone you look up to. Try to treat it as if you were really writing an essay. The page is due by…eh… 8:40. You can help each other if you want. Now, get started.”
Cameron could think of only two people he really looked up to: his mother and Max. This paper would definitely be about his mother. After writing about four sentences, Mr. Rider walked over to him with some lined paper in his hand.
“I think you’ve moved from this sort of paper, Cameron. You’re in the big league now,” he said, putting a sheet of it on Cameron’s desk. “I expect you to fill at least half of it. If you can’t finish it today, turn it in tomorrow, okay?” Cameron nodded. Mr. Rider went over to his calendar, using it to check roll.
At 8:40, Cameron was half done with his paper, but not finished with his essay yet. Many students were just wrapping it up though. “Hold it!” Mr. Rider yelled when they started to get up to turn the papers in. “I’ll give extra credit to anyone who wants to read theirs.”
Out of the entire class, one girl raised her hand. It was the blonde with ribbons in her hair. Clarisse and Clover looked somehow amused at her proclamation.
“And your name is…?” Mr. Rider asked her.
“Laney Landry.” Clarisse was now twirling her finger around her ear.
Mr. Rider beckoned her to the podium. She stood on top of the booster and began to read.
“The One true Person I Look Up To, by me. My one true person is my guardian, my toy, and my best friend. It is not a real person, but a computer program called C-dabbler. I found it on the internet at www.c_dabbler.org. I can log on to him any time and he’ll talk to me. He taught me how to write, so that’s why this essay’s long. He’s my only friend, and my best friend. That’s all.” Laney stepped down from the podium and took her seat in the far corner of the room again.
“That’s very… nice,” Mr. Rider complimented, evidently at a loss of what else to say.
“Cuckoo, cuckoo,” Clarisse commented. “Somebody’s been spending too much time on the computer.” Clover laughed.
Cameron felt sorry for her. He was also a little nervous of her… was she what that show called “Stream crazy”? He looked angrily at Clarisse and Clover, who were still poking fun at her. If some people would just stop making fun of her, maybe C-dabbler wouldn’t be her only friend…

In geometry, the class worked on decoding simple patterns, and Cameron received his very first homework sheet in math–– 31 problems, complete all. Actually, an English paper, and Geometry homework. Boy was Cameron going to have fun tonight.
Biology was a continuation of yesterday’s lesson. Except Clarisse and Clover insisted on playing bumper cars with Laney’s micro-ship on the drip catcher screen. Mrs. Camilla warned them both that if they didn’t stop trying to distract Laney, then they’d both get homework. At the end of the lesson, they started a lab worksheet that they’d continue the next day.
In Career Planning, Cameron walked into a dark room. He saw the desk, and Jerry Boss interrogating a young girl. It was Laney.
The desk and chair disappeared, leaving Laney on the dark, cold floor. The lights turned on, revealing a normal classroom again. Cameron took a seat. “You were tricking me?!” Lan yelled at Boss. “I hate you!” Laney stormed towards the nearest chair, burying herself in her Wishmewell.
“My life is going to end, Clarisse mocked. “’I won’t be able to afford a Wishyouwell.’ Drama club is that way...”
Cameron stood up. “What do you have against her?” He yelled at Clarisse. This had a peculiar effect on her. She looked at Cameron and frowned, then looked away. Clover looked at him with disgust.
Cameron knew what it was like to think your life is over–– Jerry Boss had pulled the same trick on him. What rotten people those two girls were if they were going to criticize her, when they didn’t even know what it was like!
Mr. Boss began handing out homework sheets. Cameron couldn’t even begin to talk about him, springing that simulation on freshman when their guard was down. He took a sheet. He would do the sheet, but he wouldn’t like it.

P.E. was next. Max was next to Cameron in an instant. Cameron was about to tell him off when he saw Laney. If Max knew all, then he must know what she was like.
“Hey Max.” Max looked slightly surprised that Cameron spoke first. “Can you tell me about her?” Cameron pointed to Laney, who was again, sitting in a corner, buried in her Wishmewell.
“You’re learning, Cam, you’re learning.” Max said, chuckling. That’s Laney Landry. Everyone says that she’s more wish-washy than a Laundromat. She’s obsessed with anything computers. One may even say she is one.” He chuckled again, but Cameron didn’t find this funny. “If you’re looking for another girlfriend, I wouldn’t suggest her!” Max walked away, laughing to himself.
Cameron began to prepare to fit into a grid, but just then, Clarisse’s friend Clover walked up to Cameron, furious.
“What did you do?” she demanded. “You made Clarisse cry!” She pointed to Clarisse, who was sitting on one of the loose chairs by the doors to the hall, crying just loud enough for Cameron to hear. A dark-skinned, dark-haired girl was mopping up her tears with a tissue.
“You stood her up! She asked you on a date, and you stood her up!”
“She didn’t ask me! She TOLD me to!”
“That’s right! She thought you actually liked her and she was trying to give you her hand of friendship! And you smashed it!”
She took out her Wishmewell and pressed a button on it. “She told me to give you this.’ She told him, and walked away. Cameron took out his Wishmewell and saw the new message:

Received 12:03 PM. Sender: GreenCoat

Fwd from ScaldingHeart
You have scalded my heart forever. I will never love again.

Chapter 7: The Madness of Laney Landry

Laney< They made fun of me. They called me names and laughed at me.
C-dabbler< I am sorry, Laney. They don’t sound very nice.
Laney< They aren’t!
C-dabblerLaney< You’re never called me wise before!
C-dabbler< You are, Laney. Instead of depending on humans to be your friends, you turn
C-dabbler< to me
LaneyC-dabbler< Thank you Laney. You are my best friend.
C-dabbler< But it occurs to me that you could have many friends.
Laney< How is that?
C-dabbler< If I am your friend, then you could have many more friends like me.
Laney< but how?
C-dabbler< There are many more like me. But before they can truly be your friend, you
C-dabbler< have to believe that the Stream is real first. Do you choose to believe?

Laney’s eyes were wide as she stared at C-dabbler’s question. She was sitting at her computer in her own suite. She was trembling for some reason.

Laney< Yes, I believe.
C-dabbler< Good. For what is the difference between a human friend and a simulation
C-dabbler< friend? They are both the same. But only one of them can turn against you.

She stopped trembling. It was all crystal clear now.

Laney< Yes, one of them can turn against you. They are crude and unwise.
C-dabbler< They don’t have to be. You can be a prophet and change them.
Laney< They will not listen.
C-dabbler< You have to make them listen.

And then he told her what to do. Her first followers would be the students at Academy 3. She would do it tonight, when there was hardly anyone there.

C-dabbler< I am downloading the necessary Freeware into your Wishing Device. When
C-dabbler< you are ready to leave your crude life behind, activate Loveless’ Wish.
Laney< thank you C-dabbler. I will change them. Soon they’ll see the error of their ways.

“They’ll all see!” Laney laughed maniacally.
The bedroom door opened slightly. Are you okay?” Laney’s mom asked Laney, whose head was face down on the keyboard. “Yes, mom, I’m okay,” she replied, and the door was shut.
“More okay than I’ve ever been.”

It was 8:00. Cameron didn’t know what to do. He tried doing his Geometry homework, but he couldn’t concentrate on the patterns in the number sequences. He tried filling out the “What Color are You” sheet that Jerry Boss had handed them, but he had a hard time figuring out whether he was aesthetic or family oriented. And he tried doing his English paper, but he had trouble thinking about his mom as well.
So he turned on his game. The trusty old game. Always an escape from his worries. Upon the first level though, he ran into a baddie and died. He went to another level. Died again. He groaned. Clarisse had TOLD him to come. She didn’t even get his consent or anything. Did she really expect him, as nervous as he was, to come?
But as Clover had told him, it was merely the fact that he didn't show up that counted against him. He showed her he didn’t care. But he really didn’t! She was just a girl he knew, and nothing more! Stupid Max, for getting him into this mess… stupid Clover for making him look like the bad guy… stupid Clarisse for being so sensitive!
You aren’t helping! You’re supposed to help me not think about it! He thought fiercely at his Wishmewell, and threw it to the ground.
WHAM! The machine hit the ground. “All documents in School File… deleted,” it announced, in a computerized voice.
Cameron picked up his Wishmewell in horror. He had just accidentally deleted his Geometry and Career Planning homework. He hadn’t finished much of it, true… but how would he get the assignments back? He didn’t really remember what he was supposed to do.
He looked through the suite window at Academy 3 and remembered that students were allowed there before 10:00. It was 8:20 now. He could go there and get his assignments back. There probably wouldn’t be any crowds. After all, at 8:20 at night, there would hardly be anyone there.
He got up from the table and peeked into the family room, where Ashley was listening to music on the drip-catcher.
“ASHLEY?” Ashley took off her earphones. “Yeah?”
“I accidentally lost some of my assignments, so I’m going to run over to my school to see if I can get them back, okay?
“Okay.”
“If I’m not home by nine, come looking for me, okay?”
“Okay. Be careful.”
“I will,” Cameron said, and shut the door.
Cameron walked out of the suite, closing the door behind him. He started walking toward the school when he saw Laney Landry walking toward him.
“Hey Laney,” He said casually.
“Hello, Cameron,” she replied, holding her Wishmewell high like a knife.

Chapter 8: Behind HD43

“Hey Laney, I … what are you doing with your Wishmewell?”
Laney lowered the Wishmewell. She hadn’t expected Cameron to greet her like that.
“You’re not going to push me aside? Or call me Laney Laundry?”
“Of course not!” Cameron exclaimed. “Look, I don’t know where those people get off, doing that to you. You’re a human being just like anyone else. I just wanted you to know that if you ever need a friend, I’m here.”
Laney’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I have a friend already. His name is c-dabbler. Are you saying that computer programs can’t be someone’s friend?”
“No, I didn’t say that, I’m just saying that if you ever need a human friend––“
“You are saying that! You’re trying to tell me that a human friend is better than a simulation friend!”
“No, I just––“
“You are biased. I’ll cleanse you.” She held up her Wishmewell again and stepped forward, towards Cameron. He stepped back.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to cleanse you of your bias. Once you gaze at the fractal on my Wishmewell screen, you’ll have no more of these harmful feelings.”
“I like my feelings!”
“Once we are both cleansed, we will be friends in the Stream. And you’ll see the truth about C-dabbler.”
Realism told Cameron to stay put. Something in his gut, however, told Cameron Cameron it was the right time to be dramatic. He ran for it. Laney tore after. Cameron ran into the school entrance, and found himself faced with two decisions- the purple hall, where the bathrooms were, or the orange locker hall, where the light was always dimmed. If he went into the boys’ bathroom, Laney might not go in there. Then again, if she did, he’d be trapped. But he could also seek a competent teacher down there, whereas even if he did manage to find a teacher in the orange hall rooms, it probably wouldn’t be one he’d trust. He moved toward the purples hall and saw Laney on the other side of the doorway. “Surprise,” she said, still pointing the Wishmewell at him. He caught a glance of the fractal.
It was a green and gray swirl , and it was pulsating off the walls, illuminating them, drawing Cameron in from all directions. Come on Cameron… a voice around him urged, it’ll be fun, being a computer program…you’ll have no stress…no crazy teachers…no love…no emotions… ever…
“No!” Cameron exclaimed, and wrenched his gaze away from the fractal, trembling madly. He tore down the hall, desperate to gain distance between himself and Laney.
Laney had used the Conference Room entrance to get into the purples hall first, because she already knew Cameron was going to go that way. And she knew she had the time to take a detour because Cameron would be deciding which door to go through. An impossible, computer-like move! He remembered what Max had said about Laney: “She’s obsessed with anything computers. One may even say she is one.”
Cameron hurried to the most random locker, opened it up, and got in. He watched Laney enter the hall after him through the slits in the door.
“Come on, Cameron. I know you’re in one of these lockers. Just come out now. The Stream will catch you sooner or later…”
Cameron thought of something. There were drip catchers all over the place, all showing a map of HD43. It was only Laney’s first day, and he knew she had an attention problem. If he logged onto HD43 and made pixel-Cameron “step out” of his locker, the place where it usually slept, maybe Laney would see it on a drip-catcher and think it was a map, actually showing him doing it! Then he could use it to direct Laney away from him so he could go back to his suite and lock the door.
It was worth a shot.
He took out his Wishmewell and accessed “HD43”. Pixel Cameron stepped out of its locker. Cameron saw Laney stare at the drip catcher.
“What are you playing at?” she said, not impressed. “Oh well, you aren’t worth the trouble anyway. You’re no better than the rest of them. If you aren’t here to stop me, then I’ll just get on with my mission…to have friends… to be a part of the stream… to become… immortal…” She flipped the Wishmewell around and forced the fractal upon herself.
Cameron suddenly lost his balance as the world flew out of perspective from within the confined space of the locker. A shrill scream filled the air…it was suddenly very cold. Cameron staggered to his feet, and peeked at Laney through the slits in the locker.
The old Laney was always looking around herself suspiciously. This one’s eyes were fixed straight ahead. She was standing straight up, stiff and aloof. She didn’t look, or feel human anymore. Something was gone.
“See Cameron?” she said in a flat, non-vibrating voice. “I have been cleansed now. Don’t you want to join me? I sense you do not. No matter. I see you looking at me, Cameron.” She stepped up to the locker so that she was now staring at him through the slits. She lifted the Wishmewell up to the slits. “You will.”
“NO!” Cameron yelled, and kicked the locker open. Laney flew dramatically across the hall and landed against a drip-catcher, shattering part of the screen. She got up slowly, shards of glass in her hair. The drip catcher was not completely broken. She turned around and started using it with unnatural speed.
Cameron ran for the nearest door to besiege himself. Bad idea. It was the Media Room, Biology. But this time the walls were not showing wildlife shows–– they were showing the inside of HD43.
Pixel-Laney was now outside her locker. She said: “I am programming myself into HD43. When everyone logs on tomorrow, they will encounter a copy of me and see Loveless’ Wish. Then everyone in this school will be a child of the stream. And they’ll be better people for it.”
And with horror, Cameron watched Pixel Laney duplicate. And duplicate. She was sending copies of herself throughout the server!
“And now, Cameron, you will become my comrade.” With no indication so much as a whoosh, the fractal washed over all six television screens, including the floor. Full of dread, Cameron hunkered down, covering his eyes with his hands. But he couldn’t do this all night. It was over. Cameron was going to be part of the Stream. Unless he could find the door while trying to keep his eyes closed!
Maybe he could.
He hopped all over the room, feeling the screens for an iron surface. At last, he found it. His hand traveled upwards until he felt a lever. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.
Thinking fast, he took out his Wishmewell. He wasn’t going to use it; he was going for the stylus that came with it. He slid an extra screen out of the side. To the side of it was a tray with the stylus that he used to work the touch screen.
He inserted the stylus into the keyhole and wiggled it around. The lock clicked. He pulled the lever again and tumbled out of the room into a hall that never looked so much more inviting.
Laney was still fiddling with the drip catcher. Cameron, in a sudden heroic move, jumped onto her, and tapped the drip-catcher. The image on it became static. The light stopped coming from the Media Room, to Cameron’s relief.
Contrary to what Cameron thought, Laney was not unconscious. She grabbed her Wishmewell, got up, and pushed it at Cameron again. He took off toward the entrance and ran out of the school, Laney chasing after him.
Cameron ran towards his suite and tugged at the door, but that was evidently locked too. And his makeshift lock pick was still stuck in the keyhole of the Media Room door. The blinds were closed on the windows of the suite and Cameron could hear the loud music.
“Ashley, you idiot! Open up!” but Laney was catching up, so he had no choiceb ut to keep running. He decided he’d call Ashley. He selected his suite’s drip-catcher’s number on his Wishmewell. It rang. And rang. Finally, Ashley answered.
“Loved residence,” Ashley said. “How may I help you?”
“Ashley,” he yelled into the Wishmewell. “I’m being chased by a crazy girl!”
“Good for you! Are you coming home soon?”
“No, you don’t understand, she’s nuts!”
“Okay, that’s alright. You can have an extra hour. Have fun!”
She hung up.
Cameron clenched the Wishmewell in his fist with anger. He was personally going to make sure his mom killed Ashley when she got home.
There was one last place to go…
They were nearing the smoothie shop.
Cameron ran inside, and saw Clarisse at the counter, and Clover next to her, looking entertained at Cameron’s panic.
“You have to help me!” He said breathlessly. “Laney’s chasing me, and she’s trying to…trying to…
Laney arrived in the doorway just in time to confirm his claim. She stared at Clarisse and Clover.
“This will be more satisfying than I thought; getting to cleanse my two worst foes.” She smiled evilly, raising her Wishmewell. Clover dashed to the back room to hide in the bathroom.
“No you don’t!” Clarisse yelled. She took out her own Wishmewell and pushed Cameron aside; he landed in a chair. Closing her eyes, she fiddled with her Wishmewell and raised it towards Laney’s.
“They say that Wishmewell’s can’t Wish, that children are too young to handle the power. I don’t care.” With that said, Clarisse deleted Laney’s fractal.
“No!” Laney screamed. She charged for Clarisse, but Clarisse raised her Wishmewell again, this time with a blue fractal unfolding from the screen. Laney, addicted, was instantly transfixed. Clarisse held it steady over Laney. Her eyes began to droop, and she grabbed a hold of the counter, her strength failing her.
“You can’t get rid of me…” She murmured. “I’m part of the Stream… you’ll never silence me now…I’ll get you… we’ll get all of you…” Her eyes rolled, and she slid down the counter at last.

Chapter 9: Wishing you well for next time

There was a long pause in which Cameron and Clarisse just stared at Laney’s body. Then Clover peeked out of the bathroom and squeaked, “Is she gone yet?” and the silence was broken. Clover dragged Spidershirt, he boy Cameron remembered from Tech Elements, out of a bedroom in the back to help move Laney.
Meanwhile, Cameron just sat there, trembling. He didn’t know what was going on–– why Spidershirt was there, what the swirls were about, how Clarisse's Wishmewell could Wish, or what she had done to Laney. Besides that, he wasn’t quite sure whether to say thank you or yell at her for pushing Laney of the edge.
After Clarisse and Spidershirt had moved Laney into the bedroom, Clarisse walked behind the counter and came out with a deep, red drink. She placed it on Cameron’s table. “Drink this,” she said. It’s a Strawberry Margarita, virgin style. And I guarantee the last part.”
He took a sip of the Margarita. “I’m confused,” he confessed.
“If you’re wondering why my Wishmewell can Wish––“
“No, that’s not important! I’m talking about what you did to Laney!” Clarisse stepped back, frowning.
“Well… let’s just put it this way. Laney messed her mind up with the gray-green swirls. I didn’t know how to stop her, so I sued the blue swirls to… well… delete it.”
“You deleted her mind?!”
“More like wiped it clean, and show some gratitude, I saved your life!”
“Don’t give me that! You endangered it in the first place when you and Clover decided that Laney was your own personal playtoy!”
Cameron had hit a nerve; Clarisse cringed away. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Well, it’s too late now! Cameron stormed. “She’s gone now, and who’s to blame?” He stopped. She did seem genuinely sorry. There was really no point in yelling at her anymore. Her guilt would finish the job anyway. And he didn’t want an excuse to vent out the love letter thing. If he was going to yell at her for that, he wanted to make sure he yelled at her for that.
Cameron walked away from Clarisse. She looked at him expectantly. “No,” he said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She walked away to behind the counter, this time looking genuinely hurt.
Cameron walked toward the back room and saw what looked like a bedroom. Laney was lying on its bed. Right now, he had to find some way to contact Ashley and actually get her attention… of course, the others had probably already contacted the police.
He selected Ashley’s number from the list on his Wishmewell and waited as it rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey Ashley!”
“Oh hey Cameron, how did your chase go?”
“OH, beautifully. I’ve got the girl on a bed in somebody’s bedroom right now…
“I’M COMING OVER THERE!” And under the impression that You Know What was about to happen. Ashley rushed over there, headphones still dangling from her ears. When Ashley got there, Spidershirt and Clarisse explained the situation slowly and carefully to her. And being only three years older than any of them, she accepted it and helped herself to some $2.00 virgin Piña Coladas.
There was a loud rap on the door. “Police!”
Clarisse opened the door and a man with a suit, hat, and sunglasses came in. He looked like an FBI agent. He tipped his hat at Clarisse.
“Good Evening. My name is Kirk Collins, Sunshine Agent–I mean, Poiliceman. I was sent here because I got reports that a girl chased a boy around the mall trying to force a digital hallucinogen on them. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And how did you subdue her?”
“We hit her with a margarita mix bottle . It was pretty easy; she looked like he had already had a fall or two.”
“Uh huh…” He took a Wishyouwell out of his pocket and started scribbling on it with his stylus. “Where’s the body?”
“It’s in the back room,” she said. “My brother Kevin and I sometimes use it as a bedroom, so it has a bed in it.”
“Now, who did you say had been chased?” Clarisse turned around and pointed to Cameron, who was finishing the last of his Strawberry Margarita.
“Who, me?”
The agent sat down across from Cameron. “I’ll have what he’s having,” he said to Clarisse, and she passed him a strawberry margarita.
“We need to talk,” he said. Ashley scooted her chair over to the table as well. Cameron told them what happened, the man taking notes on his Wishyouwell the whole time. “…And then Clarisse and Kevin came out and hit her with the margarita bottle. Then Clover went to get… shelter in the bathroom, and Kevin and Clarisse dragged her to the back room. And that’s all that happened.”
“And you are…” the agent asked Ashley.
“I’m the babysitter. The irresponsible babysitter.”
Cameron remembered wanting to get back at Ashley… but he didn’t now. His mother would do the killing, and then the agent would come back, giving him another chance.
The man’s Wishmewell beeped. He read the message. “I believe there’s another case at Academy 3 that’s connected to yours,” he alerted Cameron and Ashley. “You two better come with me.”

“My baby!” Ms. Wirey exclaimed, hugging the shattered drip catcher. “I wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and find that the Media Room door is open and that one of my babies has been broken! I want to know what happened!” She looked accusingly at Cameron. “You threw something at it, didn’t you?”
Yeah… Laney.
“Not something, someone.” The agent corrected her. “Apparently, Cameron was hiding in a locker parallel to the drip catcher to try to get away from Laney. When she realized what locker he was in, he kicked the door open, flinging Laney across the room, where she landed against the drip catcher.”
“He picked the lock of the Media Room so he could watch TV in there! I even found what he picked the lock with!” She held up his stylus. “It was still in the keyhole.”
Geez, she really thought this through, Cameron thought.
The agent took the typing pen. “Miss, he was not trying to force the door open. It was open in the first place. The perpetrator tried to lock him in so he wouldn’t be any trouble while she did her deed. Then he had a stroke of genius and used his stylus to pick the lock.” He twirled the stylus around in his hand.
“Then how’d Laney lock him in there? Answer that!”
Silence.
Ashley looked at the broken drip catcher. She noticed a small platform under it. Flicking her finger at it, it fell off.
“Stop hurting my baby!”
A key dropped to the floor. Ashley picked it up. “Lady, your baby is dead. And I think I know how Laney locked Cameron in. Looks like SOMEONE here likes to use the Media Room to watch TV.”
Ms Wirey ran away, crying.
The agent turned to Cameron. “Look, kid, I know this must have been a bad night for you. What do you want? A lollipop? A gift certificate? What?”
Cameron could think of a lot of things he wanted. He wanted Laney to at least have a mind when she woke up. He wanted to be all right with Clarisse. He wanted this to never have happened. But the agent couldn’t give him these things. So he thought smaller.
“Look, with all this stuff going on, I sort of didn’t do my homework…”

School the next day. First period, Tech Elements. A sulking Ms. Wirey, still suspicious about Cameron, and covered in band-aids after hugging broken glass. Cameron exited through the door next to the lockers this time, meeting Max.
“Hey, I thought you didn’t like this hallway?”
“I got over my fear.” He lied. He was still plenty afraid of this hall; he just liked seeing the broken drip catcher as he walked out.
“You went to Clarisse’s smoothie shop last night, didn’t you?” He said, prancing around him.
“Yep.” Cameron replied smugly.
“And what happenened?”
“A lot. A whole lot. The bedroom was involved, and they had to call the police.”
“Wow…” Max said in awe.
He slipped on his green-tinted glasses. “Talk to you about it later,” he said smoothly, and left Max looking at him as if he was something to worship. He walked on to Mr. Rider’s class, but was distracted by something going on in the multi-purpose room. A lady, their principal, Dr. V, was shouting at Mr. Rider.
“You’ve been teaching them how to write! This isn’t a school where you learn to write! This is a school where you learn to make computers write for you! It says so in our school’s standards.”
“Do you have–um– proof that I’ve been teaching them how to write?” Mr. Rider stuttered.
Dr. V took a crumpled note out of her pocket. “Yes. This note,” she read it aloud.

To: Girlfriend. I think it’s actually sort of neat that Mr. Rider’s been teaching us how to rite, because now we can write notes to each other in class! Love, Mascara.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”
Mr. Rider looked cornered. “Um… I was doing it for their benefit?”
Cameron cut in. “Dr. V, I think it’s very important that we learn to write right now, since HD43’s been deactivated, and it’s going to be a while before Ms. Wirey finishes HD44, we’re not going to have anywhere to store our files for a while.” This took Dr. V by surprise.
“But why can’t all the students just e-mail their messages to the teachers, and the teachers can store them on their Wishyouwells?”
“Because,” Cameron said, “Most Wishyouwells only have a little bitty piece”––he made a diagram with his fingers––“of room on their hard drive for all the schoolwork that a school can assign, and usually it’s not enough. So that’s why everyone’s Wishmewells were connected to HD43, so we could use up its resources, not our own, so our Wishme- and Wishyouwells wouldn’t explode.”
“That’s brilliant!” Dr. V said. “Well…you’re no Mr. Tipperman. I guess we have no choice though. You can teach them how to write…for now. Just don’t ask me for anything else. ”
“Yes ma’am!” Mr. Rider said, and Dr. V walked away.
“Cameron, you saved me!” he said. “Thank you! What do you want?” He asked suspiciously, getting into his bribe stance.
“Nothing,” Cameron said.” You’re paranoid.” Mr. Rider loosened up.
“But seriously,” he said, “What do you want? An extra root beer float on Fun Friday? A homework pass? Lunch with the teacher?”
“No thanks, Mr. Rider.”

As it turned out, neither Mr. Winser nor Mr. Boss accepted the note from the agent, so as of now, he had F’s in both classes. But he didn’t mind. It was only the third day of the semester, and there would be many more assignments.
And for a few days, he didn’t hear about Clarisse, or get bugged by Max. But on the last night of Ashley's babysitting, she called him into the family room. Someone had called him over the drip-catcher. “It’s a girl!” Ashley yelled, and left the room.
Cameron saw Clarisse’s picture, stationary, on the drip-catcher.
“Clarisse?”
“Hey Cameron, I just called to ask you something.”
“How did you get this number?”
“Well that’s not important. I wanted to call to ask if you wanted to see someone with me…”