Unfriended (34 page)

By the time the now-familiar sports car pulled into the parking lot, we had assembled on the lacrosse field. Not everyone had been happy about the change we were all making, but everyone had finally been able to see that it was probably the only thing to do, especially once Sarah had explained about the Tricia situation.

The hardest part had probably been the confessions. We’d had to do them fast, which actually made them easier. Schuyler had talked to all of us, Sarah had called Zach, Ruth had called Andy, and Kittson and Turtell had stepped apart from the rest of us and had what looked like an intense conversation. When they rejoined the group, Turtell looked subdued, and Kittson looked like she’d been crying, but they were still holding hands
tightly, and she’d given me a small nod when we’d made eye contact.

We were now standing in a lopsided semicircle, everyone present and accounted for, except Dave. Lisa assured me that he was coming, just
un peu un retard
, as he was running an errand. This struck me as strange, and also as terrible planning, but there didn’t seem to be anything to do about it now. Dell was standing next to Peyton, and despite the fact that he smelled like the olfactory representation of the Brawny paper towel guy, Peyton wasn’t moving away—or even downwind—from him.

Before everyone else had arrived, I had made absolutely sure to destroy Isabel’s evidence against Nate. I’d put the flash drive under Judy’s back wheel and had run over it until it was nothing but shards of glass and metal, the information forever destroyed. But even so, just in case, I’d collected those shards and thrown them away in three separate trash cans.

“Mad,” Mark said to me as Isabel emerged from her car and started walking toward us. “I’m nawt sure I’m going to be able to stap tawking like this.” It seemed that Mark’s bad accent had decided to make a reappearance.

“It’s okay,” I said, giving him a quick smile.

“Lovely use of assonance,” Sarah gushed. “Can you do a good Will Hunting? Maybe give us a little less Harvard, a little more Southie?”

“Why are you encouraging this?” Peyton asked.

“He’s an
actor
,” Sarah explained in a this-should-be-obvious voice. “It’s part of his
craft
.”

“Guys,” Turtell said in a low, warning voice.

Isabel was now just a few feet from us. I could see that she was thrown by the sheer number of people standing in front of her. She’d probably expected to just deal with me, not me and my backup. When she reached us, she stood several feet away.

“Well,” she said frostily, crossing her arms over her chest. “Looks like the gang’s all here.” She scanned the group, and I saw her expression change to one of genuine surprise. “Frank?” she asked, sounding stunned. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Isabel,” he replied, as deadpan as ever. “I just thought I’d help Madison get back what you took from me.”

Isabel seemed unnerved by this, and glanced back to her car before focusing on me. “So it seems like you’ve chosen to break our arrangement, Madison,” she said as she glanced around at my friends. “I must say, I’m surprised. I thought you were willing to do
anything
for your friends.”

“Oh, I am,” I assured her. “But the thing is, they’re also willing to do anything for me.”

Isabel narrowed her eyes at me, as if trying to figure out what I meant. But after a moment, she just shook her head. “Well, then, you should know that this is going to have consequences. And they’re going to be worse than you imagined. I know much more about you and your little gang than was in those folders. And if you think I’m not going to make the information public, you’re crazy.”

“How did you get that information?” Kittson asked, almost conversationally.

“Funny you should ask,” Isabel said, and I could tell she was enjoying this. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. A moment later, from the parking lot, the passenger-side door of her car opened. A figure emerged from it and began walking toward us.

It was Tricia.

Even though Sarah had told me who she really was, it was still a little jarring to see her stand next to Isabel. She had lost her perpetually smiling demeanor and her expression was now serious—and a little bit nervous.

“So this is Beatrice,” Isabel said, smiling at her, and then turning to us. “My best friend.”

Lisa glared at Tricia. “You borrowed my pink shirt last week,” she said coldly. “I want it back, and
maintenant
. And
dry-cleaned
.”

Isabel seemed a little stunned that this was the reaction to her bombshell. “You’re not upset?” she asked, looking around at us and frowning.

“
Oui
, I’m upset,” Lisa said scathingly. “It was my favorite pink shirt.”

“Sarah told us who you were an hour ago,” I said to Tricia. “She recognized you from the prom.”

When Sarah had told me, I had remembered that my computer had started acting weird well before I’d inserted Isabel’s flash drive. It had started right after I’d clicked on Tricia’s mysterious link. And this explained a lot of other things, too—like how she’d seen—and copied—my eyeliner. How Kittson’s secret had gotten
out. I turned to Isabel and shook my head, appalled. “Seriously, you sent a spy?”

“Not just a spy,” Isabel said, clearly trying to regroup. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to survive without your precious friends for long. And I wanted to know when that happened so I could make sure to enact the consequences for such actions.”

“And what consequences are those?” Schuyler asked, glaring at Isabel.

“Madison should keep you better informed,” she said patronizingly. “I have information on all of you that’s going to be posted on your Friendverse pages, Constellation feeds, you name it. It’s going to be
everywhere
.”

“But none of us are friends with you,” Kittson said. “Because we all have taste.” She looked over at Mark and sighed. “Mostly.”

“I was aware of that,” Isabel said. “Which is precisely why Tricia was imperative. Because
she’s
friends with all of you.”

“Good plan,” I said, nodding. “Seriously. Mad props. Well thought out, devious, manipulative. You got the trifecta. And it almost worked.”

“Almost?” Tricia asked, frowning at me.

“Close,” Mark confirmed, “but no cigah.”

“There’s one major flaw in your plan,” I said. I looked around at my friends, and everyone pulled out their phones again. I nodded and pressed SEND on the text to Travis that contained only one word—
Now
. As I watched, everyone hit the button on their own phones.

And just like that, an era was over.

“What flaw would that be?” Isabel asked, smirking.

“You might want to check Tricia’s Constellation feed,” I said. “Or Status Q, or Friendverse. Because none of us are there anymore.”

Isabel narrowed her eyes at me, then held out her hand for Tricia’s phone. I looked down at my own feed, still a little unable to believe what I was seeing.