Free The System by Gemma Malley Page B

it again. Then closed it. Then she stood up. This was making her really mad. Milo was right: the messager was obviously a freak. But she didn’t want the freak thinking that she was a stooge when she was absolutely not. She was her own person. Always had been. Infotec didn’t tell her what to write, but nor did she let freaks dictate to her either. She hadn’t asked Infotec to put her on its Top Ten New Faces to Watch. She hadn’t gone out of her way to fall in love with the head of Infotec.
    She sat down again. And then she made a decision. She would leave the question on her website. But she would also write a short blog about it and, in doing so, would close the question down, demonstrate that it was stupid. In one fell swoop, she would prove she was her own person and show Milo that she was able to tackle crazy ideas without appearing crazy herself.
    At the thought of Milo and his big question, butterflies appeared in Frankie’s stomach; she enjoyed the sensation for a few seconds, imagined herself looking into Milo’s eyes, the world watching as he asked her to marry him, move in with him, or something, something big … Then she briefly turned on the camera on her computer to update, steeled herself, and started to write.

8
    ‘Working hard?’
    Jim’s face popped up in front of Frankie and she looked at him awkwardly.
    ‘You know. Pretty hard,’ she said, shooting him a quick smile before turning back to her work.
    It was already 11 a.m., she realised; 11 a.m. was when they used to stop for coffee. Every day for a long time. But lately … lately she hadn’t really had time for coffee. Or time for Jim. He was a nice guy. Really nice. It was just that her life had changed; he had to realise that she didn’t have the same amount of time as before.
    ‘Too busy for coffee then?’ He looked disappointed. Or rather, he looked like he was trying not to look disappointed, which amounted to the same thing. She sighed, telling herself not to feel bad. She’d been his friend for a long time; at school she’d done her best to hang out with him, even though she was the popular, pretty one, and he was a nerd that no one really had any time for. He was a geek, after all. A geek who liked to question everything and be difficult about everything and make life incredibly hard for himself. But he’d also lived in the same apartment block as her, and he was kind of funny and weird and Frankie had always had a soft spot for him; she’d always been able to see beyond the angry-young-man act to the clever, thoughtful friend who always used to know what was wrong before she’d even opened her mouth to speak, who saw through the crap that fixated everyone else, who always gave her the best advice, who never demanded anything of her. Except for coffee, of course.
    But that was before she became … Well, before she became famous. Before she met Milo. Now, his smart little jokes and his sarcastic humour didn’t seem so funny. Now she resented the way he liked to think he knew what she was thinking, particularly because he got it so wrong these days. And he was so anti Infotec, so anti Milo. It was unfair. She’d never be rude about his girlfriend. If he ever got one. If he ever took his nose out of his screen long enough to notice there were girls around.
    The fact of the matter was that they moved in different worlds now, and Jim had to get with the programme. It would probably do him some good.
    ‘You know what, I’m kind of in the middle of something,’ she said with an apologetic shrug. ‘Maybe another time?’
    Jim raised an eyebrow. ‘I guess writing about parties does take some concentration,’ he said.
    Frankie’s eyes narrowed. ‘And writing your inciteful blogs for an audience of two must really take it out of you, too,’ she said archly. ‘No wonder you need coffee to keep yourself awake.’
    She stared at him, waiting for his comeback. They both knew that he was the brilliant one; he always had