Unfriended by Rachel Vail

Author:Rachel Vail
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-08-28T16:00:00+00:00

TRULY

ONE NIGHT IN fifth grade when I was sleeping over, Natasha had fallen asleep but I was up reading in the trundle bed when her mom came to check on us. I love you like my own, she’d whispered, while she braided my hair so it wouldn’t tangle while I slept. After she left, I thought for a sec that Natasha was awake, but when I looked again, her eyes were definitely closed and her breathing was slow, steady. I lay there for a long time with my heart pounding horribly. I’m not sure why I felt so bad, so caught.

Today when I called Natasha to ask her to come over and join us, she didn’t answer her cell so I called the house phone. Her mom answered. She said no, I could not speak with Natasha. “It’s important,” I said.

“I saw what you posted,” her mom hissed. “What is wrong with you?”

“I wanted to—”

“I don’t really care what you want,” she interrupted.

“I’m sorry,” I managed.

She hung up on me.

I sat down on the kitchen floor and cried. Luckily Mom was upstairs dealing with Molly, who was having a tantrum about something, so she didn’t know I was falling apart. I am the easy one in my family, the no-trouble kid, the one who is Mom’s break, her sunshine. She calls me that, her little ray of sunshine, her butterfly. The last thing she needed is me having trouble, too.

When I heard Mom’s feet on the stairs, I dashed to the bathroom to hide.

I obviously have to figure out what the heck happened with that thing I supposedly posted because I really didn’t. Nobody believes me. So much that I have started to wonder myself. I definitely have no memory of it. Could I have posted two pictures and multiple comments without knowing?

If that’s possible, how can I ever trust myself one bit? How can anyone trust me? And how can I trust anyone? If people can just do things they don’t mean to do and then honestly have no memory of doing them, how can there not be complete chaos all the time?

Thoughts of chaos make me feel like puking.

On the bus ride home, Evangeline clearly didn’t believe me. When I swore on my life I didn’t post either of those things about who was coming over, she suggested maybe I sleep-posted it. That’s a thing. She saw it on the news: people post stuff in their sleep. She might do an extra-credit science project on it. I said I’d be happy to work with her on it if she wants a partner because now I am really intrigued.

“Intrigued?” Evangeline asked.

I started to shrug but stopped myself, not wanting to look like I was copying Brooke and also not wanting to admit I had already edited that word when I said it. If intrigued is not an okay word, even to Evangeline, who watches the news apparently, how awkward was my original draft: suppressing a panic attack at the

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