The Anti Social Network (4 page)

They didn’t actually want us.”

Lisa leaned forward and held his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“That first Christmas, the Dawsons bought a used computer. The kids were thrilled but quickly started fighting over it, and so the parents made a schedule that dictated who got to use the computer and when. Naturally, Amelia and I weren’t included.” Adam felt the bitterness behind his voice and wondered if Lisa could sense it. “Anyway, that enthusiasm lasted for about a month before they got bored and bought an Xbox instead. So, Amelia started using the computer. She loved it. She got totally addicted.

She’d come home from school and stay up all night in front of it. No one knew what she was doing and no one really cared as long as she stayed out of the way.”

Adam exhaled, steeling himself for the next part of the story.

“Two years later, the oldest Dawson son got in a big fight with his parents for bombing the
SAT
. They were screaming at each other in the kitchen, Mrs. Dawson crying that he’d never get into college. They didn’t have much money and had pinned all their hopes on their kids. Finally, Mr. Dawson dragged his son to the computer and told him to pull up his score. He thought his son was lying so he wouldn’t have to go to college.

Amelia was at the computer and they told her to log off. Jacob pulls up the score report and, sure enough, he’s gotten a 1280. They were still screaming at each other and Amelia’s standing there, wanting it to stop—she always hated yelling—so she says, quietly, that she could change it, if they wanted.”

“She could
change
it? But
SAT
scores are, like, impossible to access.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what everyone thought. Mr. Dawson laughed in her face. But the son knew that Amelia was really smart and was always on the computer and he said they should give her a shot. So Amelia hacked into the website right then and there and showed them. She changed his score to a 1850.”

“That’s incredible!” Lisa’s eyes were wide. “Did he end up going to college?”

“Yeah. The guidance counselor flipped, she was so excited. His grades still sucked, but he got into Indiana State and left the next year.”

“Wow,” Lisa said.

“After that, the Dawsons started paying a lot more attention to Amelia.

Amelia was so sweet and innocent—she just wanted to help and be noticed and feel appreciated, you know? One day Mr. Dawson asked her if she could hack into his company’s system and increase his sales figures, said he was afraid he was going to lose his job and just needed a little boost. He said he didn’t have to be the top salesperson or anything, just needed a higher figure. But he was paid on commission, so he was essentially asking Amelia to help him embezzle money. Then a few months later, he directed Amelia to the bank and had her move money out of the company’s bank account into another account. He made up some story about holding accounts for future sales or something, and Amelia didn’t think much about it until a year later when she read an article in the newspaper about a “mystery hacker” who was stealing money from the State Insurance Bureau. She realized it was her and freaked out. She came to me unsure about what to do. I told her just to stop, to tell Mr. Dawson that they changed the security codes and she couldn’t hack in anymore. But being Amelia, she insisted on telling the authorities the truth.”

“Oh my God. What happened?”

“Well she called the police and told them everything. And the next week, they arrested Mr. Dawson and he was sentenced to six years in white-collar prison. They gave Amelia the lightest sentence possible, but she spent three months in a juvenile detention center. That was the only time we’ve ever been separated.”

Adam paused.

“Obviously, we couldn’t live with the Dawsons anymore. Part of the deal Amelia struck involved our being placed in another foster home. So I was moved to another state and lived there until Amelia could join me. The authorities were really good about keeping our whereabouts a secret from the Dawsons. But at the beginning of this summer, right after we started working at the incubator, we got a phone call from Jacob, the older son.

They found us, I guess because of the Doreye website. Mr. Dawson is about to be released from prison, and they’re saying we ‘owe them’ for ruining The Family. I’ve been getting e-mails and phone calls all summer trying to blackmail us into embezzling money for them again.”

“But how can they blackmail you? What have they got against you?” Lisa asked.

“I don’t know,” Adam lied, looking down at his hands. “But these people are crazy. They’ll do anything.”

“Adam, you have to go to the police.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But everything is going so well right now; I don’t want to screw things up by getting involved in some investigation. Can you imagine how bad the press would be for Doreye? I just need them to go away, and I don’t know how to make them stop calling.”

He looked down at his shaking hands. Lisa reached out and clasped them hard between hers. “I know you’ll do the right thing, Adam. And I’m really glad you told me. Maybe it’ll be better now that you’ve gotten it off your chest. It’s hard keeping secrets.” He looked up at her beautiful smile and warm eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.” He smiled, then leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers in a deep kiss. He started to pull her toward the bed, but she stopped him, glancing at the clock on her radio alarm. “I’ve got to get to a lunch on campus.”

“That’s okay,” Adam said, twirling one of her curls in his finger and smiling at her. “We’ll pick this up again later. Thanks for being here for me.” “Of course. I know you’ll figure things out.” Adam gave her one last kiss, and then crept out of the room and down the back staircase, feeling like an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

A
melia was pacing back and forth in the office, biting her fingernails.

This was not good, not good at all.

She had just read the article posted on TechCrunch and was freaking out about how Adam would react to the last paragraph. She hadn’t talked to him yet today, and he still wasn’t in the office. He must have read it and now he was avoiding her.

She was furious. How could they have written such a thing? Neither she nor Tom had said anything to imply Adam wasn’t up for the job. It was total fiction, and it would hurt Adam deeply. Didn’t they have any respect for his feelings? Didn’t it occur to them how writing something like that would affect their relationship?

This was just one more reason why she hadn’t wanted to get involved in a start-up.

“Is everything okay?”

Amelia jumped. Sundeep was standing in the doorway. He must have seen her pacing.

“No!” she couldn’t help exclaiming. “No, it’s not okay at all! The TechCrunch article—I just—” She couldn’t find the words.

“I know, it was awesome! They practically called you the new star of Silicon Valley. I feel like I should be collecting your autograph.” She stared at him in disbelief. “Did you read what they said about Adam? They said Tom’s probably going to kick him out. I never said that!”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad.” He stepped forward and touched her arm.

“Want to have some tea?”

She stood there for a second and sighed deeply. Then she conceded.

“Yeah, okay.”

She sat at the table in the incubator kitchen while Sundeep took out two mugs. “Earl Grey? English breakfast? Peppermint?”

“Peppermint,” she said. “With two packs of sugar.” He prepared the tea and brought it to her, along with a plate of sugar cookies.

“Thanks.” She smiled up at him sheepishly.

“It’s nothing.”

They sat in silence, sipping their tea.

“You’re really close to Adam, huh?”

“Yeah,” Amelia said, breaking off a piece of cookie. “We’re twins. We’ve always been together. And without our parents, we were kind of all we ever had.”“No wonder.”

“No wonder what?”

“That you feel so protective of him. You’re really lucky to have him.” In all her life, she didn’t remember anyone ever telling her she was lucky. “You’re right,” she said, smiling. “I am really lucky.

She took a small bite of the cookie. “Do you have siblings?” she asked, sipping her tea.

“An older sister. She’s back in India, married and having babies. Do you want to see?”

He pulled out his iPhone and showed her photos of his nieces and nephews. “This is Sonal and her brother Raj. She’s just like her mother: totally bossy. But Raj keeps up with her.” Amelia giggled at their expressions. “They are so cute! Look at his cheeks!”

“Right? Look at this one: Sonal made him play dress up.” He showed her a picture of a little curly haired Indian boy in an oversized dress and pearl necklace, glaring angrily at the camera.

Sundeep smiled at the iPhone, and then up at Amelia. “Anyway, I’m a very proud uncle, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Do you visit India often?”

Suddenly, Sundeep’s face darkened.

“I should get back to work,” he said, clearing his throat.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia asked.

He stood up from the table. “Nothing. I just remembered that I have a lot to do today.”

Amelia watched in confusion as Sundeep carried his mug over to the sink. “Sundeep, I’m sorry if I—”

“There’s no apology necessary,” Sundeep said. He offered up an awkward smile. “Congratulations again on your wonderful article.”

T
. J. arrived at his father’s office thirty minutes early, dressed in a suit and tie. He knew it wasn’t necessary, but he wanted to demonstrate that he was serious—and should be taken seriously.

He had been up until four o’clock in the morning working on the pitch deck, checking the numbers and making sure that all of the diagrams were properly aligned and up-to-date. He had put a lot of time into it, but the hours had flown by. Whenever he was working in Excel or PowerPoint, he felt like a machine, and he loved it. He knew so many keyboard shortcuts, and he loved how with five little keystrokes he could launch a major data analysis or create a perfectly aligned org chart.

It was nerdy, he admitted, but there was something gratifying about seeing your ideas communicated in a neat, efficient form that could be presented to investors.

One of his father’s assistants, Marie, directed him to the bench outside his father’s office, and he flipped through his pitch deck, reviewing his notes.