Assured Destruction by Michael F. Stewart Page A

off.
    “No, Janus,” she says. “Listen.”
    “It’s come to our attention that you created the website that allows anonymous respondents to make posts and reply to posts regarding other students. Including one that suggests a student die.”
    “But—” In my head I’m screaming, I die . It suggests I die.
    This time it’s Wolzowski who holds up his hand. “Someone posted a picture of Ellie Wise and inserted a piece of malicious code, a virus that takes over the computer creating what Chipp—what Mr. MacLean calls a zombie and uses the inbox to propagate—”
    “It sends an email, one email,” I blurt.
    My mom looks at me and shakes her head. I’ve just handed the principal all the proof he needs.
    “I didn’t make the website,” I add. “Mr. MacLean did. I saw him surfing it yesterday.”
    “We find that hard to believe. Mr. MacLean brought the site to our attention when he realized it dealt with Hopewell students. That only occurred when you posted Ellie’s picture. We think you made yourself the focus to distract people from its real purpose.”
    My mind is whirling ... how convenient of Mr. MacLean to tell them about the site. It keeps his hands clean.
    “Janus,” my mom begins with a warning glare to not interrupt, “when the principal called, I was worried for you. I had Rogers Communications take down the site and track the IP addresses of the users to see if any used its services. It did. A Frannie Mouthwater. Does that name ring any bells? Because all of the mail is going to that account. It is yours, isn’t it? It’s the same name you gave one of your dolls when you were little. The one that vomits when you squeeze it.”
    “I don’t know how to explain,” I say. And I don’t. Not without getting into Shadownet and confiding that I’ve been stealing the hard drives of customers. Maybe if the cop wasn’t here, I would have told, but she’s wearing handcuffs and a sidearm.
    “I bet you don’t.” There’s sarcasm in my mom’s tone, which hurts more than anything that’s been said so far. “Your relationship with Ellie Wise is no secret, dear. Just because she told on you about this Hannah incident doesn’t give you the right to—” She cuts herself off, red faced and head shaking.
    So she knows about Hannah—great. It was dumb of me to use Ellie’s picture; I really should know better. Wolzowski opens his mouth to speak, and I feel like a ball being kicked around the school yard. “This site could have done a lot of damage, Janus. Ellie Wise is not happy, but luckily it appears the only person you have really hurt is yourself. She’s not going to press charges.” He nods at the constable. “This time.”
    I lower my chin. If I did tell them about everything else, I’m not sure it would help. And this has grown very personal. Chippy, or not, I will find out who is doing this to me and I will destroy them.
    “Given that you don’t appear to have learned your lesson from yesterday, and considering there isn’t even anything beautiful in my inbox due to your altercation with Ellie. I have no other option but to suspend you until further notice.” The principal folds his hands on the desk. He passes the ball.
    “And grounded,” my mom says. She shoots—“ And you will still send something beautiful to the principal every morning”—and scores. So much for the team.
    The meeting ends with a lot of dark glowering. I’m escorted by my mother through the hallways. We stop at my locker and I collect the rest of my books. Teachers will send on homework via email. I spy Jonny at the end of the hall and I don’t know what to do. His hair is back in a short ponytail. I give him a pained expression, but I’m sure I just look constipated.
    “Help me,” I mouth, but don’t know if he catches it.
    “I’ll see you at home.” My mom pushes the button to open the atrium door and rolls smoothly outside and down the ramp. We’ll be driving home separately. It’ll be my