Four Minutes Before He Stole My Future

Nora's POV

I was ranked first in my class, which made me this year's valedictorian.

Years ago, my dad served overseas, and a war correspondent wrote a story about him. He cut the article out and kept it in the inside pocket of his old jacket for twenty years.

I read it for the first time when I was twelve, and ever since then, I'd wanted to be a reporter like that.

But I almost turned down Northwestern's Medill School of Journalism for Spencer, my childhood best friend. I was going to follow him and his girlfriend, Chloe, to Stanford.

Four minutes before the Decision Day deadline, a video popped up on my phone. There was no sender.

The woman on the screen had fine lines around her eyes and a raspy voice. She had my face.

"Spencer logged into your account and switched your enrollment to the local community college. All because Chloe told him she was sick of you tagging along after him."

"After that, you fought to transfer, fought your way through grad school, and you still never got that press pass."

"Nora, you could have made it to the farthest corners of the world."

The screen went black. I ran back to my room and pulled up the applicant portal.

Right there under enrollment choice was some community college I'd never even heard of.

My hands were shaking as I switched it back to Medill. When I hit confirm, there was one minute left.

Then I realized something. As of that moment, eighteen years of friendship between Spencer and me were done.

That was when my phone rang. Spencer's name lit up the screen.

"Nora, you done?"

It was loud on his end. A football kept slamming into the garage door, dull and steady.

"Chloe and I just submitted. This fall the three of us are gonna be soaking up the sun in California. I'm pumped just thinking about it."

"Hello? Say something. Is your service cutting out again?"

"Spencer," I said. "Do you really want me there with you?"

The ball stopped.

"What's up with you today?" He paused, then laughed. "We pinky-swore in the treehouse when we were eight. You really think I don't mean it?"

Just yesterday afternoon, he'd sat at a computer and changed my whole future with a few clicks.

I didn't wait to hear the rest. I hung up.

My mom and his mom were college roommates. They both got married after graduation and ended up buying houses on the same street, like they'd been in sync the whole time.

So Spencer and I basically grew up side by side.

Same babysitter, same yellow school bus, same bunk bed at summer camp. When he broke his arm at ten, I was the first one to sign his cast. When I won my first spelling bee, he was the one cheering loudest in the crowd.

He always said we had to stick together.

I'd always thought so too.

In the fall of sophomore year, he sat on our porch steps spinning a football in his hands. "Let's go to Stanford together."

I said yes almost without thinking.

But in the bottom drawer of my desk was a copy of that clipping. Medill was the only place I'd ever really wanted to go. I wanted to be like that reporter, carrying a camera into places other people were too scared to set foot in.

I told myself my dream could take a detour, but there was only one Spencer.

At the start of senior year, Chloe transferred into our calculus class.

She was the new cheer captain, blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, always smiling when she talked. She'd even gotten our teacher to crack up more than once.

Spencer started eating lunch with her, grabbing burgers with her after practice, even inviting her when we studied at my house on weekends.

I wasn't stupid. I picked up on it and stepped back on my own.

But Spencer wouldn't let me. He cornered me at my locker. "Why do you keep avoiding me? Did I do something?"

Chloe hooked her arm through mine and gave me a wide-eyed look. "Come on, don't be like that. I'm not trying to steal him from you. Honestly, I'm jealous of what you two have. Besides, the more the merrier, right?"

And I actually believed her.

After that, the three of us were inseparable. Even the parents in the bleachers called us "the trio."

So when Stanford and Medill sent acceptance letters the same week, I hesitated for just one night before stuffing the Medill letter back in its envelope.

I thought that was loyalty.

Now I got it. It was a trap they'd set for me, and they'd been nice enough to hide it so well I walked right into it.

If it weren't for that video, I never would have guessed they'd get into my account using the password Spencer and I made up when we were twelve.

My phone buzzed with a text from Spencer.

"Why'd you hang up? Lose service again?"

Then another one came in.

"Clo and I are coming by tomorrow. We're taking you to get those lemon cupcakes from the place on Maple Street. Your favorite."

Clo. He was already calling her that.

I stared at the two texts and laughed. It came out so cold it even gave me chills.

Then I pulled my laptop over and screenshotted the full change history for my enrollment choice.

Next, I opened the login history in my account settings.

The most recent login was yesterday at 2:07 p.m. The location said Oak Street Public Library.

I knew that library way too well. When we were little and Spencer's mom worked late, the two of us used to wait in the kids' section there until it got dark.

I changed my portal password, then zipped up both screenshots and uploaded them to the cloud.