Author's note: Melanie is back home and we're talking.
Cassandra pulled into her driveway. Aidan was in the passenger seat beside her.
"I just need to grab some stuff. Then we can talk," she said.
Aidan nodded.
When she opened the door, her father was already sitting at the kitchen table.
"Hey," she said. "I'm not staying. I'm just getting something and then I'm going to Aidan's house."
"Cassie, the school sent out an email," he said.
She froze.
"Okay?"
"Did something happen to you at school?"
That liar Mrs. Nelson. She had promised not to tell her parents.
"Look, it was just a stupid prank. I have to go."
"Hey, woah, can we talk? For five minutes, can we talk?"
She stopped. She stared hard at his numbers. April 21st, 7:34 PM. Generally, she didn't care about this sort of thing anymore, but it did mean that during the second-to-last week of April last month, instead of closing at work as he had claimed, he had probably been meeting up with his girlfriend.
"Yeah, fine. We're talking."
"What happened today? What is this email about?"
"Like I said, some boy just pulled a gross prank."
"On you?"
"On a bunch of people."
"Was it… sexual?"
Hearing her father say "sexual" in any context, especially when it made her think of the girlfriend indicated by his numbers, just made that desire to leave even stronger.
"Look, just trust me when I say, it isn't a big deal, but going over every detail of it with you would make a big deal. And if you're concerned about me being traumatized, understand that talking about it is going to make it worse for me. I want to forget about it and go hang out with my friends and have fun."
"So I'm not allowed to ask about it? I don't like you keeping secrets. I have a right to know what's going on."
"If you want to know what's going on so bad, the videos are probably still online! Just Google them!"
"Videos? Someone did something to you and videotaped it?"
His use of the word "videotape," as if it had been recorded on a VHS camcorder, made her shut down even further. Even if she wanted to explain what had happened, which she didn't, it would require a primer on the kind of technology her father didn't understand—group chats, Instagram, etc.—and it really wasn't worth it.
"No one did anything to me! I'm fine! The only reason I'm not fine is that you're still forcing me to have this conversation that's going nowhere. Just don't worry about it. I can take care of it myself."
She went upstairs to grab her sweatshirt. Her mother, as usual, was asleep. Her numbers were glowing in the dark of her bedroom through the slightly-ajar door. January 24th, 12:27 PM, 18 years ago. Approximately nine months before her own birthday of October 17th.
She left the house without saying another word to her father. At the car, she said, "Aidan, can you drive? I feel like I can't focus right now."
"Sure," he said, sliding over so Cassandra could climb into the passenger seat. "What happened?"
"My dad just wanted to talk about it."
"Is that so bad?"
"Well, what is there to say? Some boy named Kyle jizzed on a laminated version of my face? It's not like a problem we need to sit down at the kitchen table to solve."
"Maybe it's something it'd help you to talk about."
"The only thing that would help me is forgetting about it. Besides… no matter how gross it is, I can always remind myself that, to my power, it doesn't count, so why should it count to me?"
He pulled out of the driveway without responding. She looked down at her phone. Julianna was texting her.
Julianna: Did you hear what happened
Cassandra: Were you called into the office too?
Julianna: Yeah I can't believe it, they're already calling Kyle the "laminator masturbator"
Julianna: They're apparently destroying the laminator because of what happened
Cassandra: He used that picture of us at the beach
Julianna: I couldn't even tell what that picture was, those photocopies were so grainy
Julianna: How could you tell?
Was she being paranoid? Or was there something pointed in Julianna's line of questioning?
Cassandra: Just figured it must have been
Julianna: Anyway Kyle isn't allowed at prom or graduation
Julianna: He's on full suicide watch
Julianna: It's really gross, he'll probably auto-erotically asphyxiate himself
"Who is it?" Aidan asked.
"Julianna," she said, and Aidan nodded in a kind of deep understanding.
Cassandra: How did Julian react? Did you tell him?
Julianna: I didn't have to
Julianna: Listen to this
Julianna: Mrs. Nelson wants Lyra to use their technology to ensure this never happens again
Cassandra: What does VR job training have to do with something like this?
Julianna: It doesn't yet
Julianna: But if that AI technology could be used to, say, I don't know
Julianna: Detect that someone is using the printer and laminator in such a way that this is going to happen again
Julianna: Julian is thinking about ways to implement it
Cassandra: That's amazing
Julianna: Schools across the country will need it, too
Julianna: And it will make the world a better place and actually help people
Julianna: Not like most startups that just care about making millions of dollars, you know?
Cassandra: But how could it do that? How could it predict something like that?
Julianna: Just look at how amazing AI is, I bet ten years ago someone was saying, 'No way your phone can do that'...
Cassandra looked up. The sun was beginning to set now. The rush hour traffic from the city had mostly subsided.
Something caught Cassandra's eye just then. A flicker.
Seeing numbers while driving was normal. It added another level of requisite concentration whenever she got behind the wheel. The numbers often appeared to "clip" through the windshields or the roof of the drivers' cars, adding distracting glares and glows that sunglasses didn't seem to dim.
But this time there had been a flicker, a change. Ordinarily, the numbers were stagnant. Why would something change?
She scanned the road in front of them. There was a car in the next lane over from them, numbers poking out through the roof. But something was different.
She went cold.
The second count…
…was going up. Ticking away.
In real-time.
"Aidan," she said. "That car ahead… That driver is distracted. We need to get away from that car!"
The car suddenly started to drift, passing over its own lane and into theirs.
There was no time.
"Aidan!"