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exception. I took a running start, leaped, and landed on his bed, at the highest point on the pile of assorted blankets, comic books, junk food, and dirty laundry. It didn’t especially bother me. I pulled a bottle of Jolt Cola, the ultracaffeinated nerd soda, from under a pile of socks and cracked it open. Vadim plunked himself down in front of his computer. His eyes got wider, lost focus, and his entire body started to sway in synch with the movement of his hand on the mouse. I pulled an issue of X-Men from underneath my butt and began to read.
    â€œSo,” Vadim said, his eyes not deviating one millimeter off the monitor, “what do you think of North Shore? Do you really think we’re gonna make it there?”
    â€œSounds like one of us is already making it,” I said. I flipped back a few pages in the comic, studying the first page quizzically. “What the hell is up with White Queen? I thought she used to be a psychic.”
    â€œShe is. But now her skin turns into diamond, too,” Vadim replied. “Hey, do you know Devin Murray?”
    â€œDevin?” I shot up. “She’s—uh, she used to go to Malcolm X with us last year. She did that sexy dance last Christmas with the girls in Santa Claus miniskirts.” What I wasn’t saying was that she was also, hands-down, the hottest girl in our grade—both in the traditional babe sense and in the very real sense, too, the kind that, every time you look at her face, it seems like her eyes are even bigger and her cheeks are even smoother than you remember her. She had the kind of face that was both totally honest and totally unapproachable—and she had the reputation to go with it. The longest she had dated anyone was Reg Callowhill, who was both an all-city lacrosse player and went to private school. Eight months after their second-date breakup, the world was still talking about it. “Why do you ask?”
    â€œâ€˜Cause she’s got an online journal, and she just posted this announcement about a party tonight in the Yards.”
    â€œThe Yards? No way, Vadim—it’s gotta be a practical joke. Her family lives on the other side of the Northeast, in those luxury converted lofts. She’d never be seen in public around here, let alone…”
    â€œI’m telling you, it’s right here. I completely just found her secret online journal.”
    I glanced at the monitor. Sure enough, at the top it said Devin’s World of Secrets, and the background colors were yellow and red, North Shore’s official color scheme. Trust Devin to wave the patriotic flag fresh in the first week of school.
    â€œ ‘It’s the social event of the season,’ ” Vadim read. As he went on, the words sounded like alien dialect coming from his mouth, popular-girl grammar with his thick Russian accent. “ ‘Comeone, come all, to the first annual North Shore Opening Week Stress-Free Zone! Mixers, pyrotechnics, and an iPod DJ station. Help the North Shore freshman class kick it in style, and get those party impulses out while we still can.’ ”
    He had me convinced—at least, convinced enough to put down the comic and come spy on Devin’s World of Secrets.
    â€œHow did you find this, Vadim?”
    â€œMy parents were saying I needed to get out more, so I Google Alerted the words ‘North Shore,’ ‘freshman,’ and ‘party,’ and this was the first thing that came up.”
    â€œAnd you’re sure it’s the same Devin, the same North Shore? Her last name’s on it?”
    â€œWell, no. And if you read the entry, it appears like she’s taking great pains not to reveal her real identity. All her friends are mentioned by first names only. But if you click here, you can see her user profile—her home city is Philadelphia, and her email’s devinm at whatever. Hey, isn’t this right near the factory?” He had just hit the