The Heiress Is Done Asking

Mason was standing right beside Audrey when my name disappeared from my state science fair submission.

She’d used his tablet to get into my shared folder, replaced the presentation I’d spent nine months preparing with joke slides, and changed both my sampling dates and the list of authors. Where my name should’ve been, it now said Audrey Blake.

An email from my faculty adviser appeared in the corner of the screen. Why had I submitted something completely different from the version that had passed the preliminary review?

“You gave her access to my files?” I turned the tablet toward Mason.

He’d just come from lacrosse practice, his hair still damp. At the look on my face, he swallowed the mint he’d been sucking on. “I told her she could change the cover slide. She had a crappy day and thought it’d make you laugh.” He reached for the tablet. “There’s an older version, right? Just restore it.”

I kept hold of it. “She changed my raw data. The judges are going to think I made it up.”

Audrey stood in the lab doorway, twisting the sleeve of the uniform jacket she’d received that semester. “Nora, I didn’t know it was such a big deal. You and Mason joke around all the time.”

“It’s a big enough deal that I spent every Saturday morning taking samples while you two were asleep.” I opened the submission log. The deadline had passed seventeen minutes earlier.

I’d slipped on the frozen riverbank collecting the winter data. Mason had carried my sample case that morning, soaked his sneakers, and teased me about caring more about river water than our weekend dates. He knew what those records had taken. He’d listened while I practiced my presentation.

Audrey had changed one slide’s conclusion to [Nora’s groundbreaking discovery: Mason is the hottest guy alive.]

Mason’s mouth twitched when he saw it, but he didn’t quite smile. “Okay, that’s ridiculous.” He finally looked at her. “Delete it. Don’t change anything else.” Then he turned back to me. “She wasn’t trying to hurt you. Be mad at me if you want. I should’ve been watching.”

“Could you listen to what I’m actually saying?”

“I am listening.” He sounded frustrated now. “You think she’s sabotaging you. Would she seriously use my name in some dumb joke if that was what she wanted?”

He looked at the screen again and frowned, then lowered his voice. “I’ll go explain it to your adviser with you, okay? Just don’t do this here. The whole hallway can hear us.”

“First, get her out of my account.”

Audrey’s eyes filled. “You think I’m going to do something else to you?”

Mason shoved his hands into his pockets. “She’s only been here a few months. She barely knows anyone. What’s she supposed to say when you come at her like that?”

I looked at him. He could see what had happened to my submission, and he was still asking me to spare Audrey the embarrassment.

“What about my competition?”

“I said I’d help you fix it. Can you trust me for once?” He bit his lip. “Or is this not even about the files? Are you pissed because I’ve been helping her rehearse for graduation?”

I saved the login history instead of answering.

We’d had this argument eight times already. I’d try to talk about something that had actually happened, and somehow we’d end up discussing whether I was jealous of the attention he gave Audrey.

Usually, I went after him. His parents had left him with his grandfather when he was seven, and I knew how afraid he was of being left again.

But nine months of my work were on that screen, and he was waiting for me to explain that I wasn’t jealous.

“Go home,” I said. “I need to email my adviser.”

His face tightened. “So you’re going to shut me out, then tell me I don’t care.”

“I need some quiet.”

He stood there a few more seconds before putting a vending-machine granola bar on the desk. “You skipped lunch. Whatever. Apparently, I can’t say anything right.”

He left with Audrey. As the door swung shut, I heard her saying it was only a joke that had gone a little too far.

I contacted my adviser, asked him to preserve my preliminary submission and put the altered files on hold, then revoked every sharing permission. By the time I finished, it was dark outside.

There was another unanswered email in my inbox: a housing confirmation from the summer research program I’d heard from after getting into Harvard in April. I’d been considering giving up the paid placement to spend the summer in Denver. Mason had chosen a college in Colorado and wanted me to stay close to home, too.

I hadn’t given a final answer. Now I accepted the housing offer, attached my enrollment confirmation, and hit send.

My phone lit up. Audrey had left a voice message apologizing for touching my work. Apparently, she’d forgotten to stop recording, because other voices followed hers.

Tyler spoke in the background. [You’re seriously not going after Nora?]

Mason sounded sulky. [I already said I’d help. What else does she want? The second Audrey comes up, she won’t even talk to me.]

[Want to bet when she’ll call?]

There was a pause, then Mason laughed. [She’s not going to miss my birthday. First one to text loses.]

I closed the message and put the granola bar in my backpack. The research program’s confirmation had arrived. In twelve days, I’d be gone.