Titles. That sounded like something Ariana might do. I made a surreptitious note in the margin of the Xeroxed article.
"You know, Reed, I read somewhere that some huge percentage of people actually write down their password and keep it
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somewhere close to their computer,“ Taylor said. ”They jot it down on a special day in the calendar or something. You know, just in case they ever forget it."
“Really?” I said, intrigued.
“Yeah. I bet I could find the article if you want me to,” Taylor said. “I save everything.”
Like I didn't know that already. Of course, she had no way of knowing how much time I had already spent under her bed.
“Don't worry about the paper too much,” Kiran said, returning to her own work. “Mr. Kline has a very lax grading system.”
“There's a theory going around that he only reads the first page of everything anyway,” Josh said.
“That's good news,” I said, feigning relief.
Everyone returned to their books and I realized that the conversation was closed. There was no way to open it again without looking completely obvious. But at least they had given me a few places to start. Now all I had to do was put these new theories to the test.
149
TRANSPARENCIES
I should have been studying for my French quiz. I should have been taking notes for my history test. I should have been reading Beowulf. I should have been asking Kiran if I could raid her closet for an outfit to wear out to dinner with Whit. I should have been doing any one of these things. Instead I was at Natasha's desk with the Easton Academy website open on her computer, bent over a notebook, brainstorming potential passwords for Ariana's computer.
Taking a cue from Kiran, I had started scouring old issues of the Easton literary magazine, the Quill, online. If Ariana's password was in fact a title, then I figured it might be the title of one of her very own poems. Unfortunately she had published at least three and sometimes as many as seven poems in each and every issue of the Quill, going back to her freshman year. My list of poem titles already filled an entire page.
I sighed and closed the window containing last year's final Quill issue and double clicked on the latest one--published only last month. I knew that Ariana had at least five poems tucked
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inside its pages. I opened the table-?of-?contents page and jotted down the titles:
“Transparency”
“Endless Fall”
“The Other”
“Scarecrow”
“The Dark Age”
Ariana was a very lighthearted, carefree girl.
Suddenly the door to my room opened, sending my heart into unhealthy spasms. It only got worse when Ariana walked in, followed closely by Noelle and Taylor. I slapped my notebook closed and reached for the laptop's screen, but realized it would look far too suspicious. Besides, they were already behind me. Noelle placed a paper bag on the floor near the wall. I had a feeling I didn't want to know what was in it.
“Using Natasha's computer, huh?” Noelle said, leaning both hands on the back of the chair so that I tipped slightly backward. “Hope you asked or she might turn you in to the Gestapo.”
“Looking at the Quill, are we?” Ariana said, hovering behind me. “Getting ideas?” she asked, her eyes dancing.
My heart completely stopped. For a second my life flashed before my eyes. She knew what I was doing. She was actually psychic.
“Ideas? For what?” I choked out.
Ariana smiled slowly. 'Well, your writing, of course. I know you're a big reader. I always wondered if you might be a writer as well."