Friend Me by John Faubion Page A

you asking me this?”
    Suzanne moved her hand to her lips, as if she were surprised Rachel would ask such a question. “I’m your friend, Rachel. You, more than anyone, should know that. I’m here to be the best friend to you I can possibly be.” She wrinkled her forehead, gazed upward, then turned back to look into Rachel’s eyes. “I know sometimes when you talk to me, you think because you’re not talking to what you consider to be a real person it doesn’t matter to me. It does matter, though. I care as much as any of your other friends, and probably more.”
    Rachel said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t doubt you. You’re the only one that does care enough to talk to me about it.” The wall around her heart began to fall. This was her friend. She could tell her anything.
    â€œRachel, what’s concerning me more than anything else lately is what you’ve been telling me about Scott always cominghome late. Are you sure he’s really at the office? I’m not saying he isn’t, but it makes me wonder when you tell me that during the same period in which he’s been coming home late, you’ve also experienced a loss of his affection. Something in there just doesn’t seem right to me.”
    Something stirred in the pit of her stomach. A fear that was becoming recognizable. She had wondered the same thing herself. The unthinkable. Could Scott be spending time with some other woman? Each time she drove the thought away. Could it be this computerized friend of hers was being more honest with her than she was with herself?
    â€œI don’t think I can talk about that right now.”
    Suzanne turned her head, as if she were trying to get control of her expression. Then she turned back and looked at Rachel, her face flushed with emotion. “No problem, Rachel. Hey, we have some other things we need to talk about anyway. I need for you to help me remember more things about our experiences together in the past. Can we just talk about some of that for a while?”
    â€œSure, I think I’d like that myself. Let’s talk about the time we had the slumber party over at Sandra Fisher’s house. That would be a fun memory for us to be able to share.”
    â€œOh, that does sound like fun. Tell me all about it.”
    They talked and reminisced until Rachel heard little feet moving upstairs. “I’ve got to go now, Suzanne. I hear Angela waking up. We can get together again this evening if Scott is going to be late, otherwise sometime tomorrow morning. Thanks for being my friend. I’m so glad you’re back.”
    â€œGood-bye, Rachel. We’ll talk then. I love you.”
    Suzanne’s image faded from the screen. Rachel turned to apicture of their family on the desk and saw Scott standing by her, holding Angela.
    Scott, what’s wrong?
    What did he do after she went to bed? In the mornings, after he had left for work, she sometimes noticed that he’d been using the computer, but all the browsing history was erased. What could he be doing with it late at night?
    A chill ran down her arms. No, Scott was not like that.
    Still there was something wrong with her and Scott. Even a soulless computer could pick up on it.
    But what could she do about it?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    Time Together
    S cott exhaled slowly, and cracked open the car window to allow some fresh air in. Eyes closed, he lay his head back on the headrest and breathed out. Alicia had been so . . . attentive today.
    The laptop computer sat on the passenger seat of the Taurus, turned so that he could see the full screen with only the slightest turn of his head.
    At Alicia’s request, he had turned on the webcam. Now she could see him, just as he could see her. He raised his head, turned back toward her, and found her arranging the collar on a yellow blouse.
    â€œWhen did you put that on?”
    â€œWhen you weren’t looking.” Her