He shrugged. “I can tell something’s bothering you. You didn’t even try to make Whitley or me watch Bring It On with you again. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I don’t always want to watch Bring It On.”

“Since when?”

“Since… can we just watch The Dark Knight, please? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So something is bothering you.”

“No.”

“Well, you’re definitely hiding something,” he said.

“No, I’m not.”

“Is it a boyfriend?” he asked. “Is that what you don’t want to tell me?”

“Nathan,” I groaned.

“Jesus, leave her alone.” Whitley, my stepsister, passed the open bedroom door, carrying a basket of clean laundry. “I know you’re her older brother, but you’re being even more annoying than usual.”

“I haven’t seen her since Christmas,” he said. “I’ve got three months’ worth of annoying saved up just for her.”

“Whatever,” she said, dropping the basket in her room, just across the hall.

“How are you already doing laundry?” I asked her. “You just got here.”

“She’s been putting it off for weeks,” Nathan said. “She’s had this massive pile of dirty clothes in her room. They barely fit in her suitcase.”

“Ew,” I said.

“What? It costs money to do laundry at school,” she argued. “Screw that.” She walked into Nathan’s room and sat on his bed next to me. Nathan swiveled his desk chair around to face us. “And it’s not like I wore the dirty clothes. I’m not a freak.”

“That’s debatable,” Nathan said.

Whitley stuck her tongue out at him.

He laughed. “I love you. And your maturity.”

“Among other things,” she said.

They smiled at each other.

Their flirting was gross, I guess, if you didn’t know the story. Last summer, just before my mom married my stepdad, Whitley and Nathan had started dating. It had been a little dramatic at first—Whitley’s dad, Greg, was so not cool with it—but eventually things had calmed down. Sometimes it was kind of weird, but they were happy with each other. And I guess that’s what mattered.

“Man, I wish I were on spring break, too,” I said. “I hate that I’ll be at school all week while you’re here.”

“We’ll see each other in the afternoons,” Nathan said.

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. That’s not enough. And what about you guys? Mom’s at work all day. I’m at school. Greg is at the station. You guys are here alone. What do you even do?” I paused, then squeaked. “Ew! Don’t answer that. Ew, ew.”

“Oh my God, shut up, you little perv!” Whitley said, laughing as she shoved me off the bed. Nathan, on the other hand, just looked mildly horrified.

“Nate!” Greg called from downstairs. “Can you come down here a second?”

“Sure!” Nathan yelled. He stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he told us. “And when I get here, we are watching this movie. I’m getting tired of waiting.”

“Okay, Nerdthan,” Whitley said.

“You’re so clever.” He rolled his eyes.

Once he was out the door and we could hear his footsteps on the stairs, Whitley turned to face me. “Okay. So now that he’s gone, tell me what’s up.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Enough with the bullshit. We both know that he’s right and you’re acting weird. So what’s the deal? Secret boyfriend? Secret girlfriend? Come on. Spill it.”

“It’s nothing like that,” I said, looking down at my lap. “It’s… it’s worse.”

“Oh… Oh, Christ, are you—you’re not pregnant, right?”

“What?” I almost screamed. “No! Oh my God.”

“Thank God,” Whitley said. “I almost had a heart attack.”

“I don’t—I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I stammered. “I’ve never… I haven’t had… you know.”

“Yes, I know. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, well, if it’s not that, then what is it? Stop beating around the bush here. I don’t have the patience for it.”

I sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. I stood up and walked over to Nathan’s computer, clicking away from The Dark Night’s main menu and logging onto the Internet. “Come here,” I told Whitley.

She stood up and came over behind me. She didn’t say anything, though. She waited while I loaded YouTube and found the channel Justine had set up. There were more than five thousand views, which meant people outside of our school—which only had four hundred students—had seen it, too. I clicked play, but I closed my eyes while she watched. I didn’t want to see it again. Not after seeing Elsie’s face on Monday.

“Who is this?” Whitley asked after a few seconds.

“A girl from my school. She’s on the cheerleading squad with me.”

“Ugh. What is with this goddamn town and weird Internet harassment?” she asked. “This is disgusting.”

It felt like something sharp had stabbed me in the gut. I’d forgotten until just then that Whitley had dealt with this kind of thing when she first came to Hamilton. People were posting pictures of her at parties on this really mean, hateful Facebook page. That was actually how everyone ended up finding out about her and Nathan.

That Facebook page had made things in Hamilton horrible for Whitley. And none of the pictures were even of her in her underwear.

Suddenly, everything that was happening to Elsie became even more real. Even more my fault for accidentally giving Justine the idea. For keeping my mouth shut because I was too scared of being humiliated myself.

“Why exactly are you showing me this?” Whitley asked.

“Because that’s my secret,” I told her. “I know who posted this video.”

“So?”

“So I feel terrible!” I said. I logged off the Internet and got up from Nathan’s chair. “I feel guilty.”

“Why? You didn’t post the video…. Right?”

“No.” I sat down on the bed beside her. “But my friend did…. Well, I thought she was my friend. It’s this girl named Justine. She doesn’t like Elsie, says Elsie’s not worth knowing because she’s an arrogant social climber. She did this to embarrass her—to take her down a notch, I guess.”

“Ew,” Whitley said. “Sounds like Justine’s the one not worth knowing.”

“She’s the most popular girl in the freshman class,” I said. “If she likes you, everyone wants to be your friend.”

Whitley sighed and ran a hand through her long brown hair. “I do not miss high school,” she said. “I’m guessing that’s why you haven’t told anyone she did it?”

“Yeah. Well, that and she said she’d make my life as miserable as Elsie’s if I did.” I bit my lip. “I don’t want to be a tattletale.”

“Okay, Bailey, no one over the age of eight is a tattletale.”

“Fine. A rat. A narc. Whatever. I don’t want to be that girl, Whitley. But knowing she did it—and knowing how upset Elsie is—is killing me.”

“Do other people know she did it?” Whitley asked.

“A couple. Just a few of Justine’s friends.”

“Why does she have to know you’re the one who turned her in?” Whitley asked. “You’d tell the principal, right? Don’t they have to keep that confidential or something?”

“I guess…. But why would anyone believe me? This girl has a spotless record. She’s the freshman class president. She has As in every class. Everyone likes her. They’ll think I’m making it up.”

Whitley sat there for a second, thinking. “Hmm.”

“I don’t know why I’m even telling you this,” I said. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll just have to live the rest of my life feeling like a terrible person.”

“Oh, stop whining,” Whitley said. “I have an idea. What if Justine turned herself in?”

“She never would—”

“What if she had to?”

I stared at her. “What do you mean?”

Just then, Nathan walked back into the room. “Okay. You two ready for the movie?” He stopped when he saw our faces. “Why so serious?” he asked in his best Joker impression.

“No movie,” Whitley told him.

“What? Why not?”

She looked at me, then back at him, an evil grin spreading across her face. “Your sister needs your help,” she said. “And I think your geek skills may finally come in handy.”