“You’re making this way harder than it needs to be, Jess.”
Thankful for the cover of distraction, Chloe slips off to her room. She snatches her laptop off her desk, balancing it on one hand while she unzips her skirt and shimmies it to the floor. She’s so desperate for one more piece of Shara, her whole body feels itchy. Her Google Doc is instantly open, and—
There, at the top of the page, in small gray letters: Last edit was seconds ago.
When her eyes fly to the space under her three words, Where are you?, there’s a green cursor holding steady. She hovers over it until the name of the person editing the document pops up: SW.
Shara’s there. Shara’s in the doc right now. For the first time since prom, they’re in the same place at the same time.
Chloe’s foot gets caught in her skirt, and she yelps and topples sideways to the carpet.
When she recovers her laptop from the floor, the cursor is gone—wherever Shara is, she must have realized Chloe had logged on and closed the window as fast as she could. There’s nothing new in the document, only the same blank stretch where Shara’s cursor vanished. But the timestamp at the top still says the last edit was seconds ago. She was so close.
But—wait. There shouldn’t be anywhere for Shara’s cursor to rest if there’s nothing below Chloe’s words.
Crumpled at the foot of her bed in her underwear, Chloe hits the command button with her thumb and the A key with her middle finger to highlight everything on the page.
Shara typed in white text. Invisible ink.
Beneath Where are you? she’s written a single line.
Come on. There are a million more interesting questions you could ask.
“You bitch,” Chloe exhales, and she types out, Fine. Why did you leave?
A pause. Chloe finally kicks her skirt off her ankles and holds her breath. Then a little SW appears in a bubble at the top of the document. Shara must have edit notifications on for the doc—God, why didn’t Chloe think of that?
Another sentence unfolds across the page, in black this time.
I don’t think you actually want me to make it that easy. And then, What are you thinking about right now?
You, she types out automatically, before remembering Shara can see it and hastily adding, ’re running out of time to come back. AP tests and finals are next week.
She waits.
Thanks for reminding me, Shara types. What’s the last note you found?
It was a letter, actually, Chloe types. The one you left me at Belltower and asked me not to show anyone.
A second passes, and another, and then Shara’s cursor disappears.
FROM THE BURN PILE
Note from Chloe Green to Shara Wheeler, written on the back of a major works data sheet on The Great Gatsby
Found this on the floor of Ms. Rodkey’s class—thought you might want to keep it. The stuff you wrote about the symbolism of the green light sounded kind of personal.
13
DAYS WITHOUT SHARA: 22
DAYS UNTIL GRADUATION: 21
Shara ghosts the doc for the rest of the weekend after finding out Chloe read the letter, and Chloe knows her theory is correct: Shara is in love with her.
How embarrassing for Shara.
All these years, Shara’s been sitting in her room, brushing her hair in front of her vanity mirror and thinking about how Chloe could be unraveled. Shara, Shara actual Wheeler, is obsessed with her. Willowgrove’s perfect little daughter of Christ wants the weird queer girl with too much eyeliner.
Even if Chloe doesn’t want Shara back, she does want to be a sharp-beaked little bird making a nest in that pretty head. If the next note is anything like the last, she needs it. Like, for entertainment purposes.
At least she has an idea of how to get it.
“The theater end-of-year party is tonight,” Chloe says on Monday when she catches Smith at his locker. She doesn’t remember when she learned Smith Parker’s locker number by heart, but she adds it to the list of ways Shara has derailed her life in a matter of weeks.
“Okay,” Smith says.
“Brooklyn’s coming, and she’s supposed to be taking pictures for the yearbook, so she’ll have her camera there, and we can check the memory card for the club photos,” Chloe goes on. “Everyone who did Phantom is invited, including Ace, so all you have to do is convince him he should actually show up—”
“He’s going.”
“That’s the spirit. Show him who’s boss.”
“No, I mean he already told me he’s going.”
Chloe blinks. “What?”
“Yeah, I think he’s looking forward to it. He bought a new shirt.”