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She folds her arms over her chest. “How would she know that?”
“I guess she’s a good journalist.”
“I’m not the only one who can hack, though,” she says. “I’m sure many kids here, especially the boys in my coding class, can easily hack in. And anyway, I did hack her computer, actually.”
My eyes bug out again. “What?”
“Afterthat article was published,” she clarifies. “No one hacked into her computer. Only someone who knew her password got in.”
“So…” Ava’s brows dip.
“So it has to be someone she knows,” I say. “Someone she trusts.”
“Or someone who snuck a peek over her shoulder and saw her password,” Willow says.
“It could be anyone,” I say.
The bell rings.
Lily frowns. “Ugh. PE.”
With a groan, the four of us go to the girls’ locker room to change into our gym clothes. My dad is the football coach and also the PE teacher. He’s pretty fair, but he can be tough on the students sometimes. Unfortunately, I don’t get any special treatment for being his daughter, like cutting class. And there’s no point trying to get out of class because he knows every trick in the book.
“I can pretend WillowBot ran over my hand and injured my poor little pinky.” Willow holds up her right pinky. “Look, I can’t even bend it.”
“Tried it two weeks ago, except my excuse was my chair ran over my finger,” Ava tells her. “Brayden didn’t buy it.”
“How about I ate bad food last night and feel like I’m going to puke any second?” Lily asks.
“Puke is like the number one excuse,” I tell them. “Unless you projectile on him, it’s a no-go.”
Willow frowns. “Lack of sleep?”
“He’d say you should learn from your mistakes.”
“Headache?”
I shake my head.
“There has to be something,” Willow insists. “I bet it’s dodgeball today, and I’d rather not get pelted by fireballs.”
“Dodgeball again?” Lily scowls. “Is that your dad’s favorite sport?”
I shrug. “It keeps the kids engaged and competitive.”
“I think you should have a talk with your dad and convince him to let students skip class at least once a month or something,” Willow says. “You know, for our sanity.”
“I tried, Willow, believe me. But you know sports are his life. He misses being out there. And since football season is over, he misses it that much more.”
“Dude needs a hobby,” Ava mutters.
Someone blows a whistle from the direction of the gym.
“Darn it,” I mutter. “He’s already blowing his whistle. We’ll be late, guys.”
“We should be,” Willow grumbles. “Maybe we’ll miss half the class.”
“You know that would just get us detention,” Lily points out. “You want detention, Willow?”
