Screen of Secrets

Chapter 10

Fredric

Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but I’m not sure. Perhaps Evan is overthinking it.

“I think it’s amazing. You’re thinking too much about it, Evan,” Nathan says, still baffled by the program.

“Maybe you’re right, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s suspicious,” she replies.

“Fred, can you share it with me?” Nathan asks.

“Nathan, no, don’t. We don’t know where it came from, and come to think of it, maybe Fred wasn’t right to use it either,” Evan insists.

“Whatever you say, Evan, it still helped him score high,” Nathan counters.

I listen to their conversation, recognizing that both have valid points. I don’t know where the program came from, and I didn’t search for it. But it did help me study. Isn’t it impressive to go from the bottom to sixth place?

“Fred, will you say something to her about this program?” Nathan looks at me, hoping I’ll convince Evan. I don’t want to, but eventually, I do.

“Evan, you’re overthinking this.” I hope you’re really just overthinking it.

“Okay, if you say so, I’ll try to convince myself.” Evan says.

“Can you transfer it to me, Fred? I want to try it.” Nathan says.

“I think I can transfer it with a pen drive.” I say.

“Okay, transfer it to me as well.” Evan says.

“Evan? You want it too? That’s my girl.” Nathan gives her a long kiss. I start transferring the program, and by the time they finish, the transfer is 80% complete.

“I don’t want it for my grades. I just want to reassure myself that I’m wrong about it.” She still looks tense.

I transfer the files to them, and we chat for a bit before they leave.

Back in bed, I try to push away what Evan said. She was probably just overthinking. There’s nothing wrong with the program. Monthly tests are common in many schools, and the break might have been just a coincidence. I was studying for about two hours; of course, I needed a break.

Evan’s just overthinking. I shouldn’t let her concerns bother me.

What the heck? What just happened? Something came through my window with a loud bang. It’s a stone with paper attached. Who threw this? It could have seriously injured me. I look outside to see who it was.

It’s a boy wearing a black hoodie and a mask. I try to identify him, but I can’t. Crap, he saw me.

He’s running as fast as he can. I dash out of the house and chase him. He’s so fast, like an athlete or something.

I can’t keep up with him at this speed, so I take a shortcut through an alley to reach the main road before him. He must not be from around here. I’ve never seen him before. The way he’s running toward the main road shows he only knows the main street to my house. I’m almost there, just a few feet from the road. Here he comes, just as expected. We arrive at the same time. Now I can catch him.

Wait—why is he turning back and running toward me? I stop, sensing danger. He’s coming straight at me, and he’s just a few feet away. I can catch him.

No, I can’t. He pushes me hard, and I fall to my knees, hurting my ankle. I try to stop him, scratching his neck, but he’s much stronger than me. He starts walking away in the opposite direction. I can’t do anything with my hurt ankle. Of course, he knew about the shortcut. He guessed I would take it, and he’s definitely an athlete.

I slowly make my way home, my ankle throbbing. I go straight to my room, sit for a few minutes, apply ointment to my ankle, and then look at the stone. There’s a piece of paper taped to it. I remove the tape and unfold the paper. It says: “Leave the program, it’s dangerous.”