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“My friends think I must be involved in something totally cool.”
Rafe frowned. “It’s cool to be bullied and harassed? I don’t get that.”
“My friends know me, right? And they know things that start online are never what they seem to be. People behave online like they wish they could in the real world or in a way they’re afraid to behave out there. On the Internet, everyone is sexy and bold. Even then, most people don’t stir up real trouble. I don’t attract much attention at all. I’m kind of like Rafe or Max online. I like being low-profile, never letting out anything real about myself, and I don’t make comments on things—I’m an observer. So, all of a sudden, here are these people coming down on me, and my friends can’t believe I didn’t do something to trigger it.”
“But they called you filthy names!” Simone sounded slightly hysterical to her own ears.
“And everyone knows that’s the fastest way to slam someone. If you trash someone enough, you’re likely to hit something that stings. Except everyone knows I don’t do much at all, so it’s bogus, and being attacked for nothing… well, that’s practically enough for celebrity status. My Facebook page has almost nothing on it, but suddenly I get all the messages of support and sympathy for the unprovoked attacks. Then, during my computer class, Sarah told Mr. Fletcher about it, and he had us spend the hour crushing the people attacking me.”
“I see.” Simone was still upset and unsure how her sister could think this was cool.
“Teachers weren’t that cool when I was in school,” said Max with a touch of longing.
“So it’s all good. Sticks and stones can break bones, but ones and zeroes only hurt if you let them. And then there are the videos and pictures. My friends will have posted them by now. Jenny put up a picture of one guy who was in my face with the caption, ‘King of the A-hats.’”
Rafe smiled. “Think you can collect all the pictures of the guys, Gemma?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Facial recognition. It would be helpful to identify them.”
“Right. Half the idiots probably have their photos tagged by now anyway.”
“Tagged?” Simone asked.
“Several sites have pretty neat facial recognition software. If the guys are in other photos online, which they probably are, it can automatically identify who’s in the picture,” explained Max.
Rafe tossed a sly look at Simone. “We use that and build a gallery and out them all.”
“I’ll do that,” Gemma said.
Rafe spread his hands open. “Then I’ll leave that to you if Max has no objections.” Max shook his head. “I’ll do something really important.”
“What’s that?”
“Drink some beer and talk with Simone and Max.”
She grinned. “Talk?” She spoke in a knowing way that had Simone flushing. Obviously, her little sister had figured out her overnight guests hadn’t slept on the couch. Just like the encounter with the filthy men, she was taking that in stride. Did she grasp that Simone had slept with Max and Rafe? If so, she didn’t seem to care.
“Actually, yes. Strategy, stuff like that.”
Gemma pulled her notebook out of her backpack. “Then I’ll get started on building our hall of shame. With my friends helping, it shouldn’t take long at all.”
Rafe grabbedthree beers from the fridge and they went into the living room. “So, what happens once they’re identified?” Simone asked.
“We have options.” Rafe handed her a beer, then sank into her soft couch, leaned back, and popped his open. He took a long drink. “I imagine these are fake friends of Brad’s, and they have no idea what this is about. Sooner or later, the police will catch up with them, but it might be more effective to issue a ‘cease and desist’ order to each of them.”
“That would take forever. And the paperwork!”
“What I have in mind would be using a more efficient, less bureaucratic organization than the courts. I’ll ask some very bored bikers to drop by their houses and suggest that further incidents of acting out, in person or online, will be frowned upon.”
“You’d threaten them?”
“Not me. That would be a terrible thing to do to these misguided souls. No. I’d send really big guys with scarred faces and tattoos. Tons of tattoos that say, ‘Mother’ and things like that.”
Max feigned a sigh. “I knew I should have gotten that tattoo last year. I guess I can’t participate.”
Simone patted his knee, but she wasn’t convinced. “You think they’d listen?”
