Revived (Cat Patrick)

sparkling; her skin looks perfect against the lavender shirt she’s wearing. She’s the most perfect version of herself in this everyday moment.
    It makes me queasy to think that she might not have much time left.
    When Matt and Audrey drop me off after school, I grab a snack and head down to the basement to check in. With Mason and Cassie having been gone, and with my having rushed out of the house this morning, I haven’t really talked to Mason in days. But when I open the door at the top of the stairs, I realize that the lights are out; nobody’s home. Apple and energy bar in hand, I turn and run upstairs to the office: This is my chance for a closer look at Case 22.
    Even though Mason’s okay with me checking out the Revive files and Cassie tolerates it because she has to, I’m on high alert, feeling like I’m doing something wrong. And yet, I retrace my steps from last night, accessing the recently updated files from the directory.
    I glance through the case numbers and open the last one accessed, but it’s Gavin’s, not Case 22. I go back and try again.
    My stomach sinks even before my brain realizes what’s happening.
    I refresh the screen.
    Then I refresh it again.
    I navigate to another screen and then back.
    Like a hacker on a mission, I work different angles until a door closes downstairs and I snap out of it. I log off and cross the hall to my room, confused.
    I know what I saw yesterday.
    I know the unsettled feeling it gave me today.
    But as hard as I look, right now I can’t find it.
    Case 22 is gone.

twenty-three
    It’s been two weeks with no answers or even leads, and I’ve managed to bulldoze my worries about Case 22 into a corner of my brain. It’s not that I’m not burning with curiosity; it’s that I know that I’ll have to ask Mason if I want to find out more. And the truth is that Mason’s no dummy. If I tell him about Case 22, he’ll want details.
    What was in the file?
    How did you find it?
    When did you last see it?
    “When” is what scares me the most. I’ll have to tell him it was the night he came back from Kansas City and Matt was at our house. And then, Mason being the actual smartest person I know, he’ll get what I did: He’ll know I told Matt about Revive. So, instead of implicating myself, I decide to embrace my new life and try to ignore the program until I can figure out how to research Case 22 without Mason’s help.
    In the meantime, I’m starting to feel like I was born and raised in Omaha and have known the McKeans since birth. Matt, Audrey, and I carpool to school every morning and hang out every afternoon. Audrey and I can finish each other’s sentences, and she even helps me come up with great blog topics like “What’s worse: Sunday night or Monday morning?” and “Gym teachers: Friend or Foe?”
    Even better, Audrey seems to be feeling good, which somehow makes it okay that I’m feeling amazing . Although Matt and I don’t talk about Revive, the way he watches for bees when we eat lunch outside tells me that it’s always on his mind. We hold hands in the halls at school and text or chat until late every night, and more and more, I know that our relationship is way beyond crush status.
    I’ve got a best friend and a boyfriend, and it’s fine by me that they’ve got the same last name.
    On the Thursday before my birthday, Audrey and I eat lunch in the cafeteria because Matt’s got a dentist appointment.
    “I love my brother, but it’s nice to have a break from him once in a while,” Audrey says before taking a bite of yogurt.
    “Yeah, it’s nice to have some girl time,” I say, smiling at her.
    “So, Dais, do you love my brother?” she asks, eyes shining.
    “You and your questions!” I shout. “Oh my god!” I redden as Audrey giggles. “And for the record, I only love my other boyfriend. You wouldn’t know him; he lives in the Niagara Falls area,” I joke, ripping off a line from The Breakfast Club , which Audrey and I streamed last weekend. We teased Matt about having Judd Nelson hair. Of course Matt’s is way better.
    “Oh, yeah?” Audrey plays along. “Is he hot?”
    “The hottest !” I squeal. An entire group of girls one table over turns to see what’s happening. When they go back to their lunches, we resume our conversation.
    “What about you?” I ask seriously. “You never talk about any guys besides celebrities.”
    “What’s the point?” Audrey says in a rare moment of defeatism. Then she bounces