What If ... Your Past Came Back to Haunt You

by Liz Ruckdeschel

  “Oh my . . . ,” Sasha said.

  “Gross,” Haley added.

  “Yet somehow I can’t stop watching,” Sasha replied.

  “Why is he watching this?” Whitney cried. “Why is my father watching videos of teenaged girls? Why is my father such a disgusting jerk? Isn’t Trish enough for him?”

  “Maybe he was trying to protect you,” Haley said. “Maybe he heard about the site and wanted to make sure you weren’t on it.”

  “Sure,” Sasha said. “That’s probably all it was.”

  “Maybe . . . ,” Whitney said, but nobody believed it. Jerry Klein had been seen flirting with Mia before, and some people said he’d done more than that, even though Mia was only his daughter’s age. Haley felt sorry for Whitney, and sorry for Mia, too, being exposed in this humiliating way.

  “Let’s see who else is on here,” Sasha announced, hoping to change the subject and scrolling down the list of contents. She clicked on a video. Up popped an image of a young girl in a bathing suit—an uncannily familiar young girl.

  “Haley—isn’t that . . . you?” Sasha asked.

  Haley felt a pit forming in her stomach. It was her, all right. She was ten years old, on vacation with her family at Lake Tahoe, riding on an inner tube being pulled by a motorboat. She was laughing and having a great time—but Haley knew what was coming next.

  “Oh God,” she groaned. “How did this get on here?”

  “What?” Whitney asked. “It doesn’t seem so bad to me. You’re so cute. Flat, but cute.”

  Haley swallowed. Just wait, she thought. And then it happened.

  The inner tube crossed the wake of another boat—a much bigger boat. Haley hit a huge wave, tumbled off the inner tube and lost her bathing suit in the process. She washed ashore totally naked, covering her private parts with her hands and screaming.

  Good old Dad and his ever-present video camera.

  Whitney said nothing, but Sasha burst out laughing. “That is hysterical! You were adorable!”

  “I wasn’t adorable, I was naked,” Haley said, stone-faced. “It isn’t funny. The whole world can now see me naked! This is a nightmare!”

  “Come on, Haley, it’s not that bad,” Sasha said. “This video was shot ages ago. It’s ancient history. It’s not as if you look like that anymore.” She nodded at the image of skinny ten-year-old Haley on the screen, versus the more voluptuous version standing in front of her. “You were a baby then. You’re all grown up now.”

  “You don’t get it,” Haley said. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. It was one thing for Mia to be caught hooking up on the Internet—that was shocking, yet somehow less than surprising. But Haley was different. She actually valued her privacy—and her modesty. And now the whole school, maybe the whole town, had seen her naked. It made her want to puke.

  She looked at Whitney, who was staring at the floor, her face ashen white. Haley exchanged a glance with Sasha, and knew they were thinking the same thing: Whitney was still fixated on her dad and the dirty Mia videos.

  “Whit?” Sasha said. “Are you okay?”

  “He’s obsessed with her,” Whitney said quietly. “He’s obsessed with Mia, a girl my age. It’s twisted.”

  “Whitney, listen. . . .” Haley didn’t know what to say next, so she blurted out, “What about that pizza?”

  “I’m going to find him. I’m going to track him down at work,” Whitney said, shaking off Sasha’s comforting arm. “I’m going to let him know exactly what I think of him. And he’ll be sorry.”

  “I’ll drive,” Sasha said collecting her thoughts. “Sisters to the end.”

  Whoa. Major scandals going down left and right. This Hillsdale Hauntings site is exposing people like crazy—and not just the girls on the videos, but the people who watch them, too. Whitney may have thought that whole mess between her father and Mia had blown over, but apparently she was wrong. She’s caught him watching a rather graphic video of the Spanish beauty and has jumped to the conclusion that he is somehow obsessed with her—entirely inappropriately, of course.

  Jerry Klein has embarrassed his daughter long enough, no question about it. If you think confronting the breath spray king at his headquarters in the middle of the workday is the right thing to do, send Haley off with Whitney and Sasha to, GETTING FRESH.

  Meanwhile, Mia’s raw footage leaves several questions unanswered, such as who posted it on the Internet? And who was that guy she was hooking up with? If you think Haley is curious about the behind-the-scenes story of the Mia makeout show, turn to, INVESTIGATE MIA.

  But don’t forget, Haley’s a victim of this Internet outrage herself. If you think the shame over her naked video footage is too much for Haley to bare—er, bear—have her hole up in her bedroom and hide from public life forever on, TOTAL MORTIFICATION.

  Finally, if you think no video leak is going to stop Haley from being present for Coco’s birthday extravaganza, turn to, TEA AND SYMPATHY.

  People respond to adversity in a variety of ways. The path they choose can determine their future. Don’t ruin Haley’s; choose wisely and well.

  HOOP DREAMS

  * * *

  You can’t always trust the motives of someone who plays the hero.

  “Come on, come on . . . ,” Haley chanted as Spencer Eton grabbed the ball from a Westwood player and took a shot from the three-point line—his fourth three-point attempt of the game. “Make it, make it!”

  The ball bounced off the rim and a Westwood player caught it on the rebound and ran with it down the court.

  “Oh . . . ,” Haley groaned, along with the rest of the Hillsdale crowd.

  “Why does Spencer keep doing that?” Whitney said. “Doesn’t he get it yet? When he shoots from far away like that he’s going to miss!”

  “He’s a showboater,” Sasha said. “And he’s blowing the game.”

  Haley sighed as Westwood scored again, closing in on Hillsdale 35–37. She was sitting in the gym bleachers with Sasha and Whitney for Hillsdale’s first real match-up of the season, and the first game with the injured Reese Highland sitting on the sidelines. Spencer had volunteered to replace Reese, and everyone had cheered him on. Now that was looking like a shaky idea. Not that Spencer wasn’t talented—he just didn’t know how to play with a team.

  Spencer caught the ball on Westwood’s rim and dribbled down the court. “Pass! Pass to Johnny!” Sasha shouted, but Spencer didn’t listen. Instead he went for a fancy spinning layup and bounced the ball off the backboard. Missed again.

  “You suck, Eton!” Sasha shouted.

  “Sasha, he’s still on our team,” Haley reminded her.

  “I know, but he’s really pissing me off,” Sasha screamed over boos from the stands. “He won’t give up the ball.” Her boyfriend, Johnny Lane, played defense but was also one of the Hawks’ high scorers. “We usually beat Westwood easily, and look, they’re two points away from tying up the game.”

  The ref blew his whistle and called time out. The Hillsdale cheerleaders, led by Cecily Watson, rushed onto the court for a quick morale boost. “Here we go, blue and gold, here we go!” The crowd clap-clapped along with them. The game resumed.

  Drew Napolitano passed to Spencer, then dashed to an open spot and held out his hands for the ball. This was obviously a play they’d practiced with the coach, but Spencer didn’t seem to see that both Drew and Johnny were wide open as he once again drove right into a Westwood trap and lost the ball. Johnny scowled and snarled something in frustration to Drew.

  “This is driving Johnny crazy, I know it,” Sasha said. “Spencer is just not a team player.”

  Haley had to admit that this sad observation looked truer with every play. Johnny, a much more reliable shooter than Spencer, was wide open for the next three possessions, but Spencer refused to feed him the ball down low, even when Johnny was positioned for an easy shot. The Hawks’ defense kept Westwood from scoring, but they needed to move ahead by a few more points or a foul could lose them
the game.

  “Where’s Coco?” Whitney asked, losing interest in the game and scanning the crowd instead. “It’s not like her to miss a big event like this—her darling Spencer’s very first showing on the basketball court.”

  “Maybe she can’t stand the sight of ball-hogging,” Sasha said. “I know I can’t.”

  “Did you get your invitation to her party yet?” Haley asked. Hers had arrived that day in the mail. “It’s fancier than most wedding invitations I’ve seen.”

  “Totally,” Sasha said. “All that gold lettering . . .”

  “I loved it,” Whitney said. “That thick creamy paper stock . . . It was beautiful. I can’t wait to go to the party. Say what you like about Coco, she knows how to spend money and do it up right.”

  Sasha laughed. “Like spending money is such a great talent to have. Who doesn’t know how to spend money?”

  “But there’s an art to it,” Whitney protested. “That’s why—”

  She froze, her eyes fixed on the lower bleachers. Haley looked down and saw Mia Delgado walking into the gym and looking for a place to sit down. Whitney bristled and dug her nails into Haley’s arm.

  “I can’t believe she has the nerve to show her face here,” Whitney said. “I could just scratch her eyes out.”

  “Whitney, ow,” Haley said. “You’re scratching me up instead.”

  “Sorry.” Whitney let go of Haley’s arm. “She’s just so disgusting I can hardly stand it!”

  “What did she do now?” Haley asked.

  “You haven’t heard about the infamous video?” Sasha said.

  Haley had heard rumors swirling around school about a Web site with skin-heavy videos of Hillsdale girls, but she’d assumed this was all the product of some oversexed sophomore boy’s imagination. Apparently she was wrong.

  “My dad has the clip of Mia on his computer,” Whitney whispered. “I saw it when I was in his office the other day. He had it bookmarked! Just thinking about it makes me crazy. It’s so gross! Why would he want to look at her like that?”

  “Why would anyone,” Sasha sighed.

  “What’s in the clip?” Haley asked innocently.

  “It shows Mia hooking up with some guy,” Whitney said. “She’s half naked and rolling around on some silk-sheeted bed—”

  “And who’s the guy?” Haley asked.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Whitney said. “I just wish Mia would stay away from my father.”

  Whitney’s dad ought to stay away from Mia was more like it, Haley though, but she of course couldn’t say that to sensitive Whitney. “Have you said anything to him about it?”

  “Not yet,” Whitney replied. “But I’d like to tell him how pissed off I am about it. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s ruining my life!”

  “Maybe he has some kind of explanation,” Haley said.

  “Maybe,” Whitney said, but behind her back Sasha shook her head no. “Like what?”

  “You should really check out the site,” Sasha added to Haley. “It’s called Hillsdale Hauntings. I mean, you might want to see what else is posted on there.”

  “What are you talking about?” Haley looked at Sasha, who clamped her mouth shut with a guilty “I don’t want to be the one to break it to you” expression on her face. Whitney, however, had no problem with being the one to divulge bad news to anyone.

  “There’s a video of you on there, Haley,” Whitney announced. “It’s called ‘Boob Tubing’ and it’s getting tons of hits.”

  “Of me?” Haley was horrified. “What’s ‘Boob Tubing’? What does it show?”

  “It’s hard to explain,” Whitney said. “Just see for yourself.”

  “Sasha?” Haley turned to her more sensible friend for help, but Sasha just shrugged.

  “It’s really something you should see for yourself,” Sasha agreed. “It kind of defies description.”

  “Oh my God. . . .” Haley suddenly had a terrible headache. What kind of video footage of her could there possibly be?

  No one would answer her questions. The look on Sasha’s face told her that whatever was up online was something she needed to see, pronto.

  This Hillsdale Hauntings Web site is really rocking the school, tearing up lives, threatening family ties . . . Whitney is certainly upset about her father’s Mia Delgado obsession, and it’s hard to blame her. It’s just so . . . icky. Still, it’s possible Whitney is exaggerating the seediness of the situation—she’s not exactly what’s known as a reliable source. If Haley wants to find out the honest truth, she may have to look into the story herself.

  But Haley’s got her own problems to deal with first. What exactly can people see of her on this “Boob Tubing” video? Provocative title. Just what Haley needs. You have to admit this doesn’t sound good for her.

  If you think Haley should go home right away and see what’s posted online, turn to, TOTAL MORTIFICATION. If you want to join Whitney and Sasha as they storm into Whitney’s dad’s office to confront him about Mia Delgado, turn to, GETTING FRESH. If you think Haley wants to INVESTIGATE MIA first, go to INVESTIGATE MIA to find out more about Mia’s checkered past than you might have wanted to know.

  BUMP AND GRIND

  * * *

  No one is good at everything, not even geniuses.

  “Hey, Annie! Happy birthday!”

  Haley waved across the DMV parking lot at Annie Armstrong, who was just getting into the driver’s test car with an official from the Department of Motor Vehicles. Annie grinned and waved back like an astronaut preparing to blast into space. Haley had decided to go with Dave Metzger and Alex Martin to surprise Annie at the DMV. It was Annie’s seventeenth birthday and she was eager to get her driver’s license. From what Haley had seen of Annie’s driver’s-ed practice, though, Annie could use all the support she could get.

  “I hope she passes,” Dave said nervously. Since he always seemed at least a little on edge, it was hard to tell if he was really worried that Annie wouldn’t pass her test, or just his usual baseline jittery self. Haley knew Dave had seen Annie’s student driving too, so she had to figure he was just as afraid Annie would screw something up. To take his mind off it, he pulled out his ever-present handheld computer and started searching, for further information on his long-lost dad, no doubt.

  Annie started the test car, with the official—a chubby middle-aged man with the thick steel-gray hair of a former Soviet party leader—riding shotgun. She drove down the test course, weaving unsteadily through a maze of orange traffic cones. Haley bit her lip as Annie nearly hit the first cone, then the second, but swerved away each time at the last possible minute.

  “Have you ever been to Storm King?” Alex asked Haley as they watched Annie’s tentative maneuvers. Haley shook her head.“It’s a sculpture garden in upstate New York. Huge fields with gigantic sculptures by famous artists like Henry Moore and Alexander Calder.”

  “I love Calder’s mobiles,” Haley said, now half interested.

  “They’ve got some of those there,” Alex said. “Listen, I was thinking of driving up there next weekend, if you felt like coming along—”

  “Storm King? Upstate New York, did you say?” Dave’s ears perked up, but his eyes were still glued to his computer, where he had apparently searched for and found a Web site for the sculpture garden. “Mountainville, New York. That’s not far from Newburgh.”

  Alex looked a little annoyed at the interruption. “So?”

  “So? Didn’t I tell you?” Dave seemed very excited now. He’d forgotten to watch Annie, who was performing left and right turns for the DMV guy. “I found my father! I finally actually tracked him down. He lives in Newburgh, which, according to this map, is not at all far from Storm King.” On his computer screen, which he now showed to Haley and Alex, was a driving map with directions from Mountainville to Newburgh highlighted. They were indeed quite near each other.

  “That’s great, Dave,” Haley said, trying to be supportive.

  “Yeah,
great,” Alex said warily, as if he knew what might be coming next. And boy was he right.

  “I was thinking, my mother will never in a million years give me permission to see him,” Dave began tentatively. “Especially now that she’s bonkers over Rick Von Time Trap. But she would let me go to a sculpture garden—and the Rickster would be all over that. Me seeing art and everything—he’s always trying to get me to go to museums and stuff. Even if my mother didn’t like the idea of me going away on my own without her and everything, Rick could talk her into it.” He looked up at Haley and Alex, clearly expecting to now be met with an invitation to join them on their trip. Haley could tell that Alex had never meant to include Dave—much less Annie—on their little excursion.

  “Uh, Dave, see, the thing is . . .” Alex hemmed and hawed but seemed to have trouble finding the words to tell Dave to buzz off. Haley had never seen Alex at a loss for words before.

  “Hey, look,” Haley said, hoping to ease the tension by changing the subject. “Annie’s doing great so far. She’s actually backing up—”

  Oh no—Annie was backing up. This was her weakest driving skill, and the others weren’t exactly well honed. Haley cringed as Annie hit the gas, heading right for a parked car. She tried and failed to slow down before she bumped into the other automobile and ground up against it until its bumper cracked off.

  “Ooh, that’s not good,” Alex said, shaking his head.

  “Poor Annie,” Haley said.

  “She probably should have practiced more before taking the test,” Dave said.

  The DMV guy got out of the car, his face red, and stared in disbelief at the damage done. He gave Annie a pink slip and sent her packing. Choking back tears, she ran across the parking lot to the sidelines, where her friends were waiting for her.

  “I don’t believe it!” she cried. “I failed!”

  “What happened out there?” Alex asked.

  “I tried to brake, but I kept stepping on the gas by mistake,” Annie said. “What a disaster. I can’t believe I gave up Coco’s party for this.”