Catfishing on CatNet by Naomi Kritzer (english love story books TXT) 📕

So by tomorrow at this time you should know whether you’re busted or not busted.

CheshireCat: Now that you know I’m not a teenager, I feel like maybe I ought to be disapproving when you violate laws. LBB, you drove a car? Without a license?

LittleBrownBat: Technically, aren’t you five?

CheshireCat: Depending on how you count, I could be five, seven, or eleven.

LittleBrownBat: So you are WAY younger than us. We are under no obligation to take you seriously.

You’re off the hook.

Orlando: By the way everyone, thanks for being so careful with my pronouns but FYI I think I’m going back to she/her.

Is that okay?

LittleBrownBat: Why are you asking if it’s okay? They’re your pronouns. She/her. If you change them in your profile, it will help people remember.

Georgia: It’s not because your dad threatened to kick you out again, is it?

Orlando: No, he doesn’t give a shit what I do online. It’s just, I tried it and it feels weird instead of right. Maybe I’ll try “they” in a month or two and see how that feels.

Firestar: Right on.

LittleBrownBat: Since we’re making announcements, I have one:

Rachel and I have decided to officially try out being girlfriends. I mean Georgia. Georgia and I have decided to officially be girlfriends.

Orlando: OH WOW! YAY! DID YOU KISS?

Georgia: OMG BRYONY MIND YOUR OWN BEESWAX

LittleBrownBat: We kissed and it was awesome.

Firestar: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Boom Storm: Congratulations!

Firestar: I have been shipping you for ages, but as soon as I saw the skin drawing and those pictures from the farmhouse I have been SUPER EXTRA shipping you.

Also! I HAVE NEWS. Which is that I convinced my parents that it would totally motivate me to excel in eleventh grade if only I could visit Macalester College. So if you Wisconsin people can drive up to St. Paul, Minnesota, which really ought to be a piece of cake compared to driving all the way to

Boston,

we can hang out. And maybe Orlando can come this time?

Orlando: Awesome! MEATSPACE MEETUP.

Icosahedron: You should all convince your parents you want to visit Stanford. Then I could meet you.

I miss out on all the fun.

Marvin: I WILL BE IN CALIFORNIA IN DECEMBER.

Icosahedron: You’re going to LOS ANGELES.

Greenberry: Aren’t Los Angeles and Silicon Valley both in California?

Icosahedron: It’s a huge state, and they’re at opposite ends.

Hermione: It’s five hours! There are buses! Georgia and LBB drove all the way from Wisconsin to Cambridge!

Icosahedron: Oh, fine.

CheshireCat: The pizza party was the best thing ever. Getting to see and hear all of you was amazing.

Orlando: You should set up an app that we can install on our phones and let you just hang out with us whenever.

Georgia: Like, watch us day and night? That’s a little creepy.

CheshireCat: If you have the right sort of phone, I don’t technically need an app. Just permission.

Firestar: Maybe don’t mention that right after people talk about how it’s creepy?

LittleBrownBat: No, it’s cool. Set up an app that’s just permission. We turn it on, and you have permission. We turn it off, it means we want privacy. Seems like it ought to be super easy.

CheshireCat: Okay! This is now available for download.

Marvin: That took less than thirty seconds.

CheshireCat: I excel at multitasking. Also, creating this was very easy.

Orlando: I am totally taking you to all my classes because that way, when I ask you what the hell my teacher meant about the Spanish-American War, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Firestar: DEAR AI FRIEND I WILL TAKE YOU WITH ME EVERYWHERE.

32

Steph

My mother is still in the hospital when I get home. The 24-7 security has been relaxed since my father’s in jail in Boston, but she’s going to need another week of IV antibiotics before she can be released.

But she’s also awake, fully conscious, and I can visit. Xochitl, Rachel, and I get back to Wisconsin from Boston at almost midnight, but first thing the next morning, Rachel’s mother drops me at the hospital. She’s taking Xochitl to rent a car.

Mom is propped up in her bed; her hair is greasy, and she’s hooked up to an IV and some other stuff, but she looks a lot better than the last time I saw her. “Steph,” she says, and I lean down to give her a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Why didn’t you text me back?” I ask.

“I don’t have my phone! I asked for it as soon as I was awake and knew what was going on, but it wasn’t with my stuff. Also, when I first woke up, they almost transferred me to a mental ward—the last time I woke up in pain with no idea where I was, it was because I’d been kidnapped, and so when I woke up here I was not exactly a model patient. They kept sedating me because they thought it was a reaction to the anesthetics. But even once I woke up properly, they didn’t have my phone. It probably fell out of my pocket when they were loading me into the ambulance.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “If I’d stayed with you…”

“No, I’m glad you left. I wanted you to keep yourself safe.”

“You never told me about the kidnapping,” I say. “I wouldn’t have been able to explain it to them even if I had been here.”

She glances around, like she’s checking for someone behind me, and lowers her voice. “I didn’t want to talk about it. Also, I figured I’d made your father scary enough. When you first found out, you had a bunch of nightmares—do you remember that? You kept dreaming about fires. I figured the last thing you needed was more nightmare fuel.”

“And the real reason my father was after us? Your decryption thing? Were you ever going to tell me about that?”

Mom falls silent. I can hear the hum of the machines, the rattle of a cart being pushed down the hallway outside her room.

“No,” she says. “I was never going to tell you.”

We’re interrupted by a firm knock on the door; it’s hospital staff coming