The Friendship Code #1

by Stacia Deutsch

  “But wait, what do you think your dress has to do with the note I got?” I asked.

  She turned the mannequin so that Sophia and I could look at it together. “I’ll show you. There are some major decisions I need to make at this point.” She paused as if challenging us to guess what those were.

  “Buttons?” Sophia pointed to where tiny buttons could go down the front.

  “Sleeves?” I asked. There were none yet.

  Maya was waiting for us to say more, but we were stumped.

  “Look at the note you got, Lucy,” Maya said. I read the note in my hand.

  int number_of_buttons = 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8;

  string button_type = “ ”;

  boolean has_sleeves = true false;

  string sleeve_type = “ ”;

  string collar_type = “ ”;

  string lace_type = “ ”;

  “Collar,” Sophia said. It was no longer a question.

  I finished the list. “And lace!” I could see where Maya could add lace on the skirt, or on the top part of the dress.

  “Exactly,” Maya said. “Those happen to be the four things I’ve been planning to add to my dress. Whoever wrote this note seemed to know that, and I highly doubt that’s your brother, Lucy.”

  “That is really weird,” I said, letting it all sink in. “But what does this even mean for coding?”

  “I’m less curious about what it means,” Maya said, “than about who knew those were the decisions I needed to make.”

  “Maybe it was a coincidence,” Sophia suggested.

  Maya shook her head. “It can’t be,” she said. “The similarities are just too obvious.”

  “Who’s come to the shop recently?” I asked.

  “A lot of people,” Maya said. “Let me think . . . A bunch of kids from school, their parents, some teachers . . . Not your brother, though. I’ve never seen him here.”

  “Maybe he was here getting a suit for prom or graduation? He might have come when you weren’t here,” I suggested, but as I said it, I knew it was impossible. One, he wasn’t a suit kind of guy. And two, those events were months away. Alex wasn’t the type to plan past lunch.

  “I checked all the recent receipts. His name isn’t on one,” Maya told us. “But lots of other people from school came in. This past week, I saw the new eighth-grade science teacher and a bunch of teachers from the seventh grade. They’re having some kind of fancy staff banquet. Principal Stephens was also here.”

  There didn’t seem to be any clear clues about who could have known what Maya was planning for her dress, and then left me a note about it.

  “I know!” Maya suddenly said, standing up. She brought down four bins from the shelves. Each was labeled: Buttons. Lace. Collars. Sleeves.

  “It looks like we’re supposed to fill out the note, right?” she said as she took the lids off the boxes. We nodded. “So why not do that? Maybe it’ll give us a clue. Buttons first.” Maya dumped out hundreds of buttons on the table. There were big ones and little ones. Plastic, metal, wood, and pearl—buttons in every color of the rainbow.

  Maya handed me a pen. “Lucy, write down our choices on the note’s blank lines.”

  “Are you sure this is what we’re supposed to do?” I asked.

  “No,” Maya admitted. “But it’s all I can think of, and besides, if it’s wrong, at least you’ll have helped me make decisions for my dress,” she said, smiling.

  Sophia and I looked at each other and shrugged. Maya was right. Might as well fill out the note as best as we could. What was there to lose?

  Chapter Nine

  That night, Sophia and I group chatted with Erin. Anjali was supposed to join us, but she got busy with family stuff.

  thx for checking in on me, guys

  np!! how ya feeling?

  better but mom still won’t let me go to school

  ugh that sucks

  want us to get your hmwrk?

  ah yes plz! but we don’t have all our classes together . . .

  oh yeah forgot we’re not in the same grade lol!

  haha lets ask maya to help shes in 7grade too

  yay great idea!

  After our afternoon with Maya at Dress to Impress, we’d exchanged numbers in case anything else came up about the coding notes, so we added her to the chat.

  Maya texted back right away.

  happy to help!

  We decided we’d all go over to Erin’s house on Saturday to bring her homework. I hoped she’d feel better by then.

  On Friday morning, Sophia and I were walking down the hall to English class when we heard a voice behind us.

  “Lucy! Sophia!”

  “Hey, Maya!” I answered as she caught up to us. I didn’t feel nervous around her anymore, especially after hanging out the day before. She was much more laid-back and fun than I’d thought.

  “Cute earrings,” she said, noticing my heart studs.

  I instinctively touched one of my earlobes. “Thanks!”

  “So listen,” she said, leaning in and lowering her voice as we walked down the hallway. “I have an idea for how to find the note-leaver.”

  Even though we hadn’t figured out how—or even if—Alex could have seen Maya’s dress, I was still convinced the notes were from him. It was entirely possible that he’d come up with buttons, sleeves, collars, and lace on his own, and that the similarities to Maya’s dress were just a weird coincidence. Still, I was glad it’d given me the chance to hang out with Maya and Sophia. But I also didn’t want to waste time following wrong leads.

  “I’m telling you, Maya, if it doesn’t involve cornering my brother, I really don’t think it’s worth it,” I said. Sophia nodded in agreement.

  “I know you think the notes are from him, Lucy. But what if they’re not?” Maya insisted. “Aren’t you just a bit curious who else they could be from?”

  I could tell she was excited about whatever idea she had brewing.

  “Okay, what’s your idea?” I conceded.

  Maya grinned. “If you don’t get another note on your locker today, we use our answers to the dress note as bait.”

  “Bait? What are you talking about?” Sophia asked, her head tilted.

  Maya’s eyes lit up. “Simple: We leave the filled-out note on Lucy’s locker and see if the culprit shows up to take it.”

  I could see where she was going with this. All three of us looked at one another and smiled.

  “Let’s do it!” I said.

  Later that day, I still hadn’t received a new note on my locker, so we taped the one with our dress-making answers on it to my locker door in between classes. It was right after fifth period, when we had a bit longer than usual before the bell would ring. I’d made a copy of the note, just so we’d have one in case the one on my locker fell or something.

  Our filled-out portion of the note said:

  int number_of_buttons = 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8;

  string button_type = “purple seed pearl ”;

  boolean has_sleeves = true false;

  string sleeve_type = “Petal ”;

  string collar_type = “Mandarin”;

  string lace_type = “Antique Chinese Jacquard”;

  “Now we just need a place where we can watch your locker in secret,” Maya said, trying to look around discreetly. We realized there was one spot where we could watch my locker and be hidden: the girls’ bathroom across the hall. We went in and took turns peeking out the door to look for anyone who might take the note.

  “Bradley Steinberg is standing nearby,” Maya said after just a minute. Sophia and I smushed up next to her to look out.

  “It can’t be him,” I said. “We talked about coding club at lunch the other day, and it was pretty clear he knows nothing about coding.”

  I turned around and leaned against the wall. Maya walked towa
rd the mirrors, deep in thought.

  “What about Erin?” Maya finally said, turning to me and Sophia.

  “Erin?” I answered, incredulous.

  “Does she even know any coding?” Sophia asked, turning around for a second. She was standing guard with the bathroom door cracked open.

  “I think a little,” I said. I flashed back to how Erin had asked me not to tell anyone about what she’d said in the playground.

  “Think about it, Lucy. Could Erin be the one leaving the notes?” Maya probed.

  “But she wasn’t even in school yesterday,” I said.

  “She was in the morning,” Sophia reminded me, her eyes glued to my locker again. “She left during Spanish class.”

  I had to admit there were clues that seemed to point Erin’s way, but why would she want to show me how to code through secret notes? If she wanted to help me, she could just be open about it.

  “No,” I said. “It can’t be Erin. It doesn’t add up.” I turned and peeked out the door with Sophia. “Any other suspects?”

  “Sammy Cooper, Ellie Foster, and Alicia Lee from coding club are in the hallway,” Sophia said. “But they aren’t near your locker.”

  The warning bell rang. “Mrs. Clark just walked by,” Sophia reported.

  “Did she take the note?” Maya asked. She was at the mirror, retying a bow on her blouse.

  “No,” Sophia said. “She was talking to the Spanish teacher—watch out!”

  The bathroom door flew open. Sophia jumped back so fast, she almost knocked me down.

  A few kids from eighth grade walked in. We pretended we were busy fixing our hair until they left.

  “Phew, close call!” Sophia said, taking up guard at the door again as soon as they were gone.

  I couldn’t get my mind off Maya suggesting that Erin was the culprit. It occurred to me that since Maya was in seventh grade, she could have been in coding club the year before, and we wouldn’t know it. Maybe she was the note-leaver, and her helping us was a cover-up! But why would she go through the trouble of writing anonymous notes? It didn’t really make sense.

  Still, I had to ask. “Maya, do you already know how to code?”

  She was now touching up her eyeliner. “What?” she said.

  “Well, you’re the one who said we should consider other suspects . . . ,” I explained.

  She looked back at me incredulously, her eyeliner in midair. “Wait, are you accusing me of writing the notes? Why would I pretend not to know about them? And why would I have invited you guys to Dress to Impress?” she said, her voice rising.

  I had to agree, it didn’t really add up.

  “Sorry, I just thought . . .”

  “Whatever,” she said tersely, throwing her eyeliner into her backpack. “Forget it. It’s not like I even care about coding. I don’t know why I was trying to help you.”

  I hadn’t meant to offend her, but now she was going too far. “Then why are you in coding club if you don’t even care about coding?” I asked, hands on my waist.

  She slung her backpack over her shoulder, averting her eyes.

  “Well, what is it?” Sophia asked her. She’d stopped guarding the door and was at the mirror now, too.

  Maya looked uncomfortable. “Fine,” she finally said with a sigh. “I was sent there. The school paper assigned us to write articles about some of the school clubs. I wasn’t at the meeting when they made the assignments, so I got the club that still had room.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “Wait . . . so you’re, like . . . undercover?”

  Maya scoffed. “Ha! That makes it sound way more glamorous than it is,” she said, adjusting her backpack. “I only need to stay for a few sessions for the article. Mrs. Clark knows that I’m supposed to be leaving.” She started for the door, then turned around.

  “But I have to admit, it’s been fun hanging out with you guys. Thanks for helping me with my dress yesterday.”

  I decided I didn’t want to argue about this anymore. It just wasn’t worth it. “Wait, Maya, don’t go,” I said, grabbing her arm. “I’m sorry I accused you. Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

  I suddenly realized that we’d been talking and no one had been watching my locker door.

  “The note!” I screeched.

  I dashed out into the hallway.

  The note was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  As much fun as I was having hanging out with Sophia, Maya, and Erin, by Friday night, I was beginning to have doubts about whether or not my brother really was behind the coding notes. We hadn’t found any definitive evidence against him, but we hadn’t figured out who else it could be, either.

  I went to the kitchen, figuring I’d sit there as long as it took to catch him on his way in. I needed to talk to him, and a sneak attack might be the only way to get the job done.

  To my surprise, Alex was sitting at the counter, working on his laptop.

  I went up next to him and put my elbow on the counter. “Alex, if you’re the one leaving me notes, you’ve got to tell me.”

  He looked at me like I had an extra eye on my forehead.

  “What are you talking about, Lu?” he said, his brow wrinkled.

  I contemplated my options. I could push it, but was it even worth it? It wasn’t like he was going to admit the notes were from him—he clearly wasn’t willing to back down from this prank.

  “Forget it,” I said, plopping onto a stool next to him. “I just wish I could help make my app for Uncle Mickey faster, that’s all.”

  “Lu, you know you don’t need an app to show Uncle Mickey how much you care. Why don’t you call or visit him? I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

  I knew he was right, but still, I felt helpless.

  Alex’s phone rang. I could tell something was wrong when he answered, because he kept saying, “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” and quickly got up to get his jacket and wallet.

  “The late-shift delivery driver’s sick,” he said to me as he hung up and headed toward the door. “See ya!”

  Oh well, I was glad I’d at least had a chance to chat with him, even if briefly.

  After Alex left, I couldn’t stop thinking about Maya not believing that Alex was the one leaving the notes. Maybe she was right. But who could it be instead? I knew Maya thought Erin could be the culprit, but Erin wasn’t at school Friday when the dress-making note disappeared from my locker. It had to be someone who was at school that day.

  Unless a random person took the note off my locker? Anything was possible, at this point.

  My mom came into the kitchen and told me that Dad would be home with pizza soon. I sat on the couch and texted Anjali a bit, and then watched TV. It was actually nice to have some quiet time to myself.

  Saturday morning, I was glad that we’d made plans to meet at Erin’s house, even just to get my mind off the notes. I met Sophia and Maya outside Erin’s building. The apartment complex was an older one—some of the paint was peeling on the front, but there was a pool out back with a slide.

  We walked up to Erin’s apartment and rang the bell.

  “Good morning,” a woman greeted us. She was wearing dust-covered sweatpants, and her short blond hair spiked up a little on top. “I’m Suzie, Erin’s mom. You must be Erin’s new friends.”

  “Hi. I’m Lucy, this is Sophia, and this is Maya,” I said as Soph and Maya smiled at Erin’s mom.

  “It’s nice to meet you all. Come in.”

  Inside Erin’s apartment, there were boxes stacked everywhere, and books and clothes strewn all over the floor.

  “I’m so sorry for the mess,” Suzie said bashfully. “You can just walk over anything.” She pushed some boxes out of the way.

  “We’d be happy to help you and Erin unpack,” Maya offered.

  “That’s so sweet of you, but we’re almost done,” she
said. She pointed toward the back. “Erin’s in the kitchen.”

  When we walked into the kitchen, Erin was standing at the counter with a mixing bowl in front of her. She was wearing an apron and had white flecks of flour in her hair.

  “Hi, guys!” she said. She dusted her hands off on her apron. “Thanks so much for coming over. Ignore the mess—we’re still unpacking, but I wanted to do a little baking.”

  Sophia took a deep breath. “Smells amazing in here!”

  “It’s just cookies in the oven,” Erin said. “They’ll be done soon. We can have some, if you want.”

  “I’m always in the mood for cookies,” I said. “Looks like you’re feeling better, Erin!”

  “I am,” she answered, taking off her apron.

  Maya handed her a packet. “Special delivery.”

  “Oh, thanks! I wish there was a better way to get homework.” She put the papers on a clean counter. “I checked online, but not everything is posted, and there aren’t any class notes.”

  “Yeah, it’s not the best system,” Sophia said.

  The oven timer rang, and Erin grabbed oven mitts to take out the cookies. She put a few on a plate.

  “Here, have some,” she said, handing us each a couple of warm cookies on a paper towel. “Careful, they’re hot.”

  I let mine cool a bit and took a bite. It was sweet, gooey, and soft, all at once.

  “Mmmm, these are so good!” I said, my mouth full. “What’s in them?”

  “White chocolate chips and dried raspberries,” Erin said, putting more cookies on the plate.

  “Yum! How did you learn to make these?” Sophia asked her, finishing hers in two bites.

  Erin pointed to a shelf full of old, frayed-looking books. “I used a recipe from an old cookbook,” she said. “I collect them.”

  “Really?” I said, my mouth still full.

  “Yeah, I love looking at the pictures and being able to turn the pages. It’s different than looking at a website or blog.”