AT 9 P.M. that night, I get a phone call on the landline in my Aunt's apartment. My mom lives in Queens, but I'm staying at my Aunt's because to be zoned to go to Piotr, I needed an NYC address. The only one who calls me on the landline is my mom, to check on me and make sure I get home when I tell her I'll be home.

When I pick up the phone, I am relieved that my mom is calling to check on me. It is creepy to be alone in my Aunt's apartment on a Friday night, even though my grandparents live a couple of floors below me.

I was too tired to go home to Queens after seeing the movie with Nick, but I regret it as the night is getting darker. The only company I have here is the white glow of my laptop and cellphone.

The apartment is empty of furniture because my Aunt was planning to rent it out. She never found a tenant she liked, so she left it empty. Before my Aunt left for Europe, she said that until she finds someone to rent it to, I'm free to stay there while attending Piotr. My mom agreed that having me stay here would keep me away from my shop-lifting friends back in Queens.

At first, I thought it was cool to live on my own. Now, with the whole stalker situation, I'm starting to wish my grandparents weren't on another floor.

"Hey, mom, I got home before dark, okay?" I say in a bored voice. There is no answer. I wait for my mom to ask me if I plan to come home in the morning and whether I'm bringing my laundry for her to wash. I had already packed my dirty underwear into a garbage bag by the door to bring home. I knew she would nag me about it and lecture me about wearing dirty underwear two days in a row. "Mom? Are you there?"

"Woof, woof," someone says into the phone. I freeze. "No, you idiot. Wolves howl." A female voice said in the background.

The seconds seem to drag out into years.

"Who are you?" I finally ask. "What do you want?"

"You, Corrine," the voice says. It is a deeper voice than the other girl, but it didn't sound like a guy. "We're going to hunt you down."

Before I can scream into the phone for her to leave me the f-curse alone, she hangs up.

I try to find the number that had called me, but it is blocked. I don't know what else to do. I am so angry that I'm nearly crying in rage. I call Jake instead. He picks up after the fifth ring.

"Hey?"

"Is that all you have to say? Hey? After you gave those losers my phone number, my Aunt's number, and my real name?"

"What?" Jake asks. "Calm down. I don't even know your Aunt's number, psycho."

"How did they get it? Oh, it's just a coincidence that all this happens after our fight in the cafeteria? What is this? Some sick idea of revenge?"

"Good grief, if I wanted to get to you, I would just break that pretty boy Nick Driscoll's nose. I'm not going to resort to prank calling you."

"Oh. . . . no?" I ask and try to catch my breath. I'm terrible at confrontations. This, right here, is the worst kind of confrontation. It's one where I might be wrong. Thinking back to that prank call, those two girls didn't sound like they were people that Jake would be friends with. "If it's not you, tell me, how did some strangers on the internet get my real name and cell number?"

"I don't know. Maybe some idiot hacked your email address? Maybe you downloaded a keylogger by accident?" Jake retorts wearily as though he's aching to get off the phone. "Why don't you change your passwords?"

"What?" I ask. "A key licker? Ew, gross. I don't want that."

"It's a computer virus," Jake sighs in defeat. "Wow, you are such a girl."

"Wait, help me," I say. "Don't you write Sci-fi? Aren't you a computer expert?"

"You should probably back up your files and wipe your computer," Jake says. "I can't help you with that. I am just a one-night-stand remember? Why don't you ask your dad?"

"I don't talk to my dad."

"Nick?"

"No, I can't do that. He'll think I'm weird. I can't tell him the truth. He'll. . .he'll —" I pause and stop pacing around my room long enough to stare at my reflection in the windowpane. Yes, I can never tell Nick. He'll think I'm lame if he finds out the truth. I write cheesy romance stories online — ones full of ridiculously hot furry men. No one in school would ever talk to me again. "Nick can never know."

"Oh, I see," Jake says. "So you're ashamed of WilderLuna15. That's pretty funny coming from you. I wonder what all your followers would think if they knew you were ashamed of being their queen."

As I am thinking up a response, my Aunt's phone rings again. I dash out of the bedroom and slam the door behind me. I cower on the other side of the door as though the landline has turned into a snake.

"Do you hear that? Do you? The ringing? They're calling me again. You need to help me. The stalkers know where I live. I don't know what they want. I don't even know if I can call the cops about something like this."

"Why don't you call your mom?"

"She's in Queens, and if I tell her the truth, she'll ban me from the internet. I can't go to her. I need the internet. I would die without it."

"Okay, so what do you want me to do?"

"I'm here all alone. C-can you come over and help me? Find out if my computer has key lickers?"

"Okay, stop calling it that." The minutes seem to tick by as we both wait in silence. Finally, Jake sighs again. "All right, all right. You're lucky it's Friday night. Give me your address. I'll fix your computer. It better not be far."

"Thankyouthankyouohmygosh—thank you! It's super close. It's on the Upper West Side."

"Dammit!."

"No, wait, don't hang up. I-I have hot chocolate." I offer my most endearing smile to the receiver of the cell phone even though he can't see it. "Please?"

"Fine, you do realize you owe me big time, Shorty."

"Did I mention, I have stale marshmallows for the hot chocolate? Please hurry."