by Alex van Tol
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” I shout. I snatch my hands away, upsetting her balance again. She stumbles forward, and our heads bonk. Oh my god, could this get any worse?
Dana grabs for Kamryn to steady her. She narrows her eyes at me. “Look where you’re going, you idiot,” she sneers.
The air is filled with exclamations as Kamryn’s friends flutter around her. They throw me dirty scowls.
Her balance finally restored, Kamryn glares at me. If she never noticed me before, she’ll sure remember me now. She smooths her hair back, her chin jutting. “Don’t you ever touch me again,” she hisses. Her glare could break apart diamonds.
“I wasn’t…” I fumble. “I didn’t mean…” I shake my head and take a step back.
My foot lands on my skateboard. The wheels engage, sliding easily along the concrete. I go sprawling backward. My leg overcompensates, pushing the board forward. Horrified, I watch as it shoots out from under me and slams into Kamryn’s shin. She gasps and clutches at her leg.
Apparently, it can get worse.
Kamryn’s eyes narrow into sharp slits of glittering green. She is just getting ready to slay me when the door behind her opens.
“Owen. Hey.” I look up to see Hannah, the president of the student council. She looks surprised but wary. “Everything okay?”
Kamryn straightens and glances at Hannah. She doesn’t say whatever she’d planned to say to me. Not in front of Hannah, at least. Everyone likes Hannah. She’s always nice, always honest, but funny and cool at the same time. People want her to think well of them.
Kamryn gives me a final glare. Her friends close around her, and they move away, talking. Kamryn is waving her hands and shaking her head. I’m sure she’s telling everyone how stupid I am for opening the door.
Never mind that she was leaning on it, not looking where she was going.
Hannah watches the receding group. “What was that all about?”
I shake my head. “She crashed into me when I opened the door,” I say. “And now she’s got a full hate-on for me.”
Hannah sighs. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Owen,” she says. “It’s pretty hard to stay in Kamryn’s good books.”
She sticks a hand out, and I take it. “Thanks,” I say. She pulls me up, and I dust off my butt. My shirt is cold and wet, and it sticks to my stomach. Gross.
But as I look at Hannah, it hits me. I think I’ve found a solution to my problem.
Chapter Four
“Tell me again why you’re doing this?” Hannah asks.
I upend my board and grab it by the trucks. We climb the front stairs of my house. “’Cause. It’ll be fun.” I jiggle my key in the old brass lock. The door swings open, and I step into the entryway.
Hannah doesn’t follow. She stays on the doorstep, arms folded. “Owen.” Only Hannah has that way of saying my name. “Flash mobs are fun. Parasailing is fun. But writing a relationship blog? This doesn’t sound like you. What’s going on?”
Crap. She’s not buying it. She’ll laugh if I tell her the real reason behind the Oracle. Especially after what she witnessed today.
I shrug. “I want to see how many people I can get to read it.” I motion for her to come in. She stands in the doorway, stubbornly.
I sigh and push her out of the way so I can close the door. Hannah’s not someone most people can push out of the way. But I can. We’ve been friends since our mothers met at baby music class thirteen years ago. I’ve seen Hannah barf all down her best dress. She’s seen me pee my pants. Twice.
Hannah furrows her dark brows. “You want to see how many people read it?” she repeats. “Really? Owen, when was the last time you wrote more than ten words in a row? What’s with the sudden urge to host an entire”—she looks for the right word—“gossip blog for our school?”
I put my arm around her shoulders. “I don’t plan to do it all alone,” I say. “You’re going to help me.”
“I’m going to help you?” She looks at me like I’m speaking Finnish. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“Ah, but you’re brilliant, Hannah,” I say, laying it on thick. “Your ideas are way better than mine. Your research skills are tops. Plus, you’re funny.”
Never mind that I’m too lazy to make the blog happen by myself. I need her help to get it up and running.
I head for the kitchen. I don’t want to appear desperate. I’ll lose ground if she thinks it matters too much.
She follows me into the kitchen, her arms still crossed. I take two packages of cookies out of the cupboard and hand one to her. She shakes her head and takes an apple from the fruit bowl instead.
“Are you going to tell me what this is really all about?” she says, polishing her apple on her jeans.
I sigh. Hannah can’t be dodged. She knows me way too well. I go straight to the heart of it. “Kamryn’s in love with my brother.”
“So?”
“Well, Kyle’s a jerk. You know that.”
“I do know that,” says Hannah. “But I don’t see what a blog has to do with it.” She takes a bite of apple.
“I want to use it to steer her away from him.”
“How’s that going to work?” she asks.
I shrug. “Post misleading love advice and get Kamryn to read it.”
Hannah regards me suspiciously. “What’s it to you who Kamryn likes?”
Ah. This is where it gets tricky. I don’t want to tell my best friend that I’m crushing hard on the most popular girl in our grade. I’m afraid she’ll tell me I don’t stand a chance with Kamryn. Or worse, she’ll laugh. Hannah’s not one to keep her opinions to herself.
I shrug again. “It’s more about not letting Kyle have the satisfaction of yet another girl wasting her love on him.”
Hannah peels the sticker off the apple and flattens it on the counter. “You should let Kyle have her,” she says. “They’d be perfect for each other.”
“What do you mean?”
Hannah shrugs.
“What?” I ask again.
But she doesn’t say anything else.
I say, “I think my idea could work. Plus it would be fun to get the school hooked on a relationship blog.”
“But it’s bogus!” Hannah protests.
I shake my head. “Only the Kamryn-Kyle posts,” I say. “The rest of it can be legit. Real advice.”
Hannah sighs. “What if you put all that energy into skating instead, Owen? Or helping me organize the Free the Children Gala?”
“Come on,” I say. “How much fun would it be to mess with a thousand people’s heads like this?”
Her eyes get a faraway look.
Good. She’s thinking about it.
When she looks back at me, I raise an eyebrow. I move in for the kill. Playing on her do-gooder side. “Think of all the lives you’d be touching,” I say. “You could really help people…find love and all that.”
She tilts her head. “It would be kind of fun to see the response it gets.”
“So you’re in?”
“I’m not saying I’ll write anything.”
“So you’re in?” I repeat, giving her leg a little nudge with my foot.
“You could get in big trouble if this ever gets out, Owen.”
“It won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
Hannah looks up at the ceiling and releases a long, slow breath. When she looks back at me, there’s a gleam in her eye.
“I’m in.”
Chapter Five
I lean back in my chair. “What number are we up to?”
It’s Sunday afternoon. Hannah’s on my bed with her laptop open. She studies the sheet where we keep track of user names and passwords. The “phantom people” who write to the Oracle for advice.
“Seventeen. Both questions and answers.” She consults the sheet. “We’ve got the messy breakup, the cheating girlfriend, the jealous lover, the gay who’s afraid to come out, the hopeless romantic, the fetishist—”
“I liked that one.
Sneaker Sniffer.” I stretch. “Let’s do one about Kamryn and Kyle now.”
“Ugh.” Hannah rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She starts typing, setting up a new phantom email for the question writer. “Number eighteen,” she says. “I’ll call her QB.”
“Quintessential babe?”
Hannah stares. “You think Kamryn’s a babe?” Her laugh is short. “Holy, you’re just like everyone else.”
I realize my mistake. “Well, I myself don’t think she’s a babe,” I scramble. “I mean, not personally.”
Hannah looks back down at her laptop. “Whatever. QB stands for Queen Bee.”
She looks mad. I’m not sure what to say. Usually if Hannah’s mad about something, you hear about it.
But she doesn’t say anything else.
I keep us moving along.
“Okay, so. Our question for Kamryn could be, How do I get this really hot guy to notice me?”
Hannah starts typing. A few seconds later, she hits a button. “Sent,” she says.
I click Refresh on my laptop, and the question appears on my screen as though QB actually wrote in to ask the Oracle about it.
I grab my head and groan.
“What?” Hannah asks.
“Epic problem,” I say.
“What?” she asks again.
“I want to give her the wrong advice and steer her in the wrong direction,” I say. “But the Oracle isn’t supposed to give bad advice. It’s supposed to give good advice.”
“Oh,” Hannah says. “Riiiiiight.”
We sit for a few moments.
Then Hannah snaps her fingers. “Got it,” she says.
“What?”
“We write in as Kyle.”
I stare at her. “We write in as Kyle?” I can’t imagine my brother reading a website about relationships, let alone writing in to ask for advice. But Kamryn won’t know that.
“What would Kyle ask?” I say.
“Dear Oracle,” Hannah begins. She types as she talks.
“I’m in grade ten. There’s this grade-eight girl who’s driving me crazy. She has a crush on me, but the feeling isn’t mutual. She’s on the prowl and won’t let up. She’s even got plans to hunt me down at the spring dance.”
My jaw drops, and I swivel in my chair. “That’s so obvious!”
Hannah looks at me. “Owen. Do you want her to figure it out or what?”
“Right. Obvious it is.”
She finishes. “Oracle, I’m not interested in dating little kids. How do I tell her to leave me alone?”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “That’s perfect! If Kamryn reads that question, she’ll totally think Kyle wrote it. She’ll get the message loud and clear.” I lean back and punch Hannah on the shoulder. “You’re a genius.”
“I know.” She shrugs and twirls a length of hair around a finger. “Your world would be dead and meaningless without me.”
I laugh again. “You realize, don’t you, that if people start reading this website, we can totally direct their behavior with questions and answers?”
Hannah nods. “Supreme power.”
“That’s pretty cool. To have this much control over people.”
“Controlling minds is pretty cool,” she agrees. “Except there’s one tiny problem.”
“What’s that?”
“How do we get people to read it?”
“You do the main floor. I’ll do upstairs.” I hand Hannah a fistful of blue business cards.
She heads down the corridor, slipping a card into every few lockers. The hallways are quiet except for the mad-science nerds and a few people in the drama club. Almost everyone has gone home or to the gym to watch the game.
Hannah and I stayed up late last night creating anonymous identities. Inventing questions and posting answers and having way too much fun.
As of today, the Oracle is open for business.
I take my bundle of cards upstairs. Between us, we have three hundred. It’s not enough for every locker at LaMontagne, but it’s a good start for getting the word out.
I glance down at the card. It shows a dark sky full of stars swirling around an image of an ancient temple. In gold are the words, Is love in the stars for you at LaMontagne? Ask the Oracle. The url is at the bottom.
It should get people’s attention.
I save the last card for Kamryn’s locker, at the far end of the east wing. If nothing else, I have to make sure she gets one. She’s the whole reason for the Oracle.
As I drop the card through a small opening at the top of the locker, it hits me that I should have written a personal message on it. An invitation, or maybe a hint about Kyle. Something to make sure she logs on and checks out the site. I duck my head to feel around at the bottom of the locker, but there’s no way I’m retrieving the card.
That was dumb.
I pull on the locker. Locked, of course. I bang my forehead against it in frustration.
Hannah rounds the corner. “This is going to be so great!” she says. She stops short when she sees me. “What on earth are you doing?”
I straighten guiltily. “Nothing.”
“Why were you smashing your head against…” Hannah pulls back and scans the row of lockers. “Kamryn’s locker?” she finishes. When she looks back at me, her eyes are suspicious. A locker slams in the next hallway.
“Oh, is this her locker?” I feign surprise. “That’s weird. I, uh, didn’t have enough cards to get to the end of this row. I was just thinking that maybe we didn’t print enough.”
I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
She opens her mouth to speak.
Mason rounds the corner, wearing those jumbo foam hands people wave at hockey games. He stops and points, cowboy-style, when he sees us. “Dudes,” he says. “What’re you doing up here? Game’s in the gym.”
Hannah looks at Mason, then at me.
“We were just headed there,” she says. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Six
The next day after school, I check the Oracle’s stats.
If I wasn’t sitting down already, I would have fallen on the floor. The site had two hundred and twenty-three hits and forty-eight comments.
My stomach does a flip-flop.
What?
My heart hammers. I should be happy, but instead I feel like I’ve been buried by an avalanche.
What have I started?
What am I going to do with forty-eight questions? How will I answer them all?
I run my hands through my hair, then click on the first one.
Dear Oracle. My best friend just broke up with her boyfriend. I’m really attracted to him and want to go out with him, But I don’t want my friend to be upset. What do I do? —LF
I blink. Wow, that’s a tough one.
Maybe the next question will be easier to answer. I click on it.
Dear Oracle. Is it a good idea to kiss on the first date? My friends and I can’t agree. —To Kiss or Not to Kiss
I don’t know. Is it a good idea?
Let’s have a look at number three.
Dear Oracle. I’m going out with a guy that I’m not interested in anymore. How do I dump him gently? —Softhearted
Ah, man. Who was I to think I could manage a gig like this?
I go through every question to see if any of them are easy to answer.
None are, except for the one asking about poisoning an ex’s new girlfriend with formaldehyde from the chem lab. I write a stern reply discouraging the idea. Before I hit Send I suggest itching powder in her gym shorts instead.
I drop my head into my hands. I’ve told everyone the Oracle can solve their trickiest relationship issues. And, other than telling people not to kill each other, I don’t have a clue where to start.
The doorbell rings, making me jump.
“Forty-eight questions!” Hannah says when I open the door. She’s obviously checked the stats too.
“I know,” I groan. “I have no idea how to answer them either.”
&n
bsp; Hannah grins. “I do.”
“What? How?”
“Horoscopes.”
“Horoscopes?”
She nods. “Astrology. You ask people to send in the birthdate of the person they’re asking about. It’s the best tool we have to tailor the Oracle’s advice to that person.”
“I’m not following you.”
Hannah steps inside and closes the door.
“You’re a Sagittarius, right?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Am I?”
“Yes, you are. Your birthday is December eighth.” She starts walking toward my bedroom.
I follow her. “Okay. So what?”
“Well, according to the ancient art of astrology, there are certain things a person can do if he or she wants to woo someone of a particular sign.”
“Keep talking.”
“Well, let’s use you as an example,” she says, settling herself on my bed. “Sagittarians are honest, and they have a great sense of humor. So good relationship advice for someone who’s in love with a Sagittarius is to show that you can be a lot of fun. Or that you like the outdoors. Or horses.”
I look at Hannah. “How’d you get so wise on astrology all of a sudden?”
Hannah pulls out a folded sheet of paper and waves it at me. “Google.” She opens the sheet and runs her finger down a list, reading. “More on Sagittarius. Optimistic. Adventurous. You like to travel. You think about the future. You don’t like to be tied down.”
I laugh and sit down. “No comment. What’s your sign?”
“I’m a Leo,” she says.
“What’s that mean?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Flatter me.”
“Anything else?”
“That’s all you need to know for Leos,” says Hannah.
“Okay, so…you’re brilliant,” I say.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You have lovely, uh…hair?”
“Getting warmer.” She laughs. I love making Hannah laugh. Her laugh makes me feel good.
“You have a laugh that I could listen to all day?” I say.
Hannah stops laughing. She blinks, twice, then looks down.
The air in the room feels different all of a sudden. The tops of my ears grow hot.
I hear Hannah take in a little breath. Then she nods toward the laptop. “We should get started. We need to get the word out so people can write in with actual birthdates.”
