"Roach rules the school." Rachel read aloud the words that were spray-painted across the school in red. "Who's Roach?" She turned to face Samantha, her best friend. Long black bangs framed Samantha's thoughtful caramel colored face. "Cameron may know, he was here last year. “I'll ask him when he calls," Samantha replied. Rachel sighed, adjusting her backpack and her glasses.

The two moved forward, becoming one of the many faces in the crowded hallway. It was the first day back at school, and both were freshman at Poynter High School. Rachel, the more shy of the two, held tightly onto Samantha's backpack.

"Rache..." Samantha said, calling back behind her.

"Yes?" was the timid reply.

"This is your homeroom."

"Oh...” Rachel let go. "Come for me after?"

"I'll meet you in front of first period. We have Geometry together." Samantha sighed softly. "Okay?"

Rachel nodded her assent. Samantha smiled softly, and turned to leave. As soon as her friend was gone, Rachel leaned against the wall, her head down.

"Outta my...” A tall, thin girl, her body covered by a black trench coat, ran right into Rachel, knocking her down and the girl falling on top of her. She looked down at Rachel from her position on top, smiled and said, "So, was it good for you too?"

"Wha... what?!" Rachel cried, her eyes wide. "Get offa me!"

"Calm down...” The girl smiled, and stood, offering her hand, which Rachel took. She shrugged off her trench coat, and tossed it to Rachel. "Hold this for me, will ya?"

"Well... where will I find you?" Rachel asked.

The other winked. "Don't worry, I'll find you." She turned to walk off, but Rachel had another question.

"What's your name?"

There was a pause. "Roach." Without another word, she ran off.

Shaken, Rachel walked into her homeroom. That was Roach... THE Roach! She sat, moving through her forms almost stiffly. Roboticly at least. Homeroom lasted for over a half-hour that day. When the bell finally rang, Rachel draped the black trench coat over her arm, making it to Geometry without getting lost.

"Sam!" she called to her friend, waving.

"Hey... where'd ya get that?" Samantha asked, pointing to the black trench coat.

Rachel was just about to spill everything about meeting Roach. Something stopped her, though. She couldn't quite place it, but Rachel didn't feel right. "I'm... holding it for someone," she told Samantha.

It seemed to be a good enough reply, because Samantha simply said, "See? I knew you'd start making friends quickly!" Rachel nodded the two filing into the room.

From around another corner, Roach, hidden, watched. A light smile played across her face. "She's perfect."

By lunch, Samantha was pleased to see Rachel a little open. Both girls had the third lunch period, so they spent the time chatting about the past 4 periods. Samantha went on about the choir, and her Biology class, while Rachel yapped about keyboarding and English. She noted that Rachel still had the black trench coat that she was carrying since homeroom.

"Excuse me..." a voice came from behind. Samantha and Rachel jumped, turning around. A tall, thin girl, with brown hair falling into her eyes was standing there. "You've got my trench coat..."

"Oh... here!" Rachel said, handing it to her.

"Thanks... can I have a talk with you?" The girl had a commanding presence, and Rachel stood, sensing it. She put her arm around Rachel. "We'll be riiiight back," she said to Samantha.

The two walked off, out of the main cafeteria. When she was sure they were alone, the second girl spoke up. "You... you're perfect."

Rachel stopped. "Uhh... I'm not a lesbian."

"I KNOW THAT!" Roach cried. "But you're perfect for another job. You know what a hacker is, right?" Rachel nodded. "And an anarchist...?"

"Yeah. What do you want with me?"

Roach grinned. "I want you to be one of us. You know, system overthrowing and all that. We need you. And I need to take on an apprentice."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel shook her head. "Are you crazy? I'm not... like that."

A laugh escaped Roach's lips. She leaned against the wall, shaking her head. "No one thinks they are, until... they're offered the chance. That's how it was for me... and Spydar before me. But you know, deep down... that's what's right. Don't you... Rachel?"

"How do you..."

"I know lots of things. Believe me... it's in your heart." Roach reached down, placing two fingers on Rachel's chest. "You know it... that's why you didn't spill to your friend that you met me. It's a sign."

In a trance, Rachel just stood there. Some of the things Roach had said... felt right. She'd always knew that she was different... but was this the way to express it?

"Go back to your friend. Find me when you're ready... it's not that hard." Roach smiled, putting on her trench coat. "Don't ask how. More than likely, I'll find you." With the sound of cloth hitting cloth, Roach then spun to leave, running down the hall.

For the second time that day, Rachel had fallen into movement without thinking. Her mind kept playing the incident over and over... trying to convince her that Roach, for some reason, HAD to be wrong. That she DIDN'T want to join... that she shouldn't... that it wasn't right... but there was no reason. There wasn't a single reason why Roach was wrong. Because she wasn't. Her peers had looked down Rachel upon all her life. Felt cheated by "the establishment". She was smart, but quiet, cute but would never have admitted it.

"You okay, Rache?" Samantha asked when Rachel sat back down at the table.

"Uh... yeah," was the only reply. Samantha only sighed, a bit peeved, figuring that that strange girl must have upset Rachel in some way. This almost always happened, which sent Rachel farther into her shell.

Lunch was finished in silence; Rachel contemplating the new ideas Roach had presented her with, Samantha wondering how to bring Rachel out of her shell. The bell ending lunch and 4th period rang shortly, and the sound of chairs scooting back soon filled the air. Hoisting her backpack in the air by one strap, Rachel waved quickly to Samantha and mixed in easily with the crowd.

"She is acting weird..." Samantha muttered, shaking her head.

Roach squinted at the monitor, straining her eyes against the bright screen in her dark room. She had a program to finish, and LoCiShift wouldn't be too happy if it was late. Her mind kept shifting to Rachel, though, wondering if the naive girl would join her.

"Jordan!" cried a voice from downstairs. Roach ignored it. "Jordan!"

"Oh shit, that's me!" she muttered to herself. It was rare that she was ever called by her real name. Most of her friends didn't know it, and the ones that did rarely spoke to her. "Yeah, mom?" Roach yelled.

"Dinner!" was her mom's reply. Roach's eyes shifted guiltily to the half-eaten container of sesame chicken. It dawned on her that guilt was an emotion she hadn't felt in a long time.

"I'm not hungry!" Roach yelled back, rolling her eyes, thinking about her mom's next line. 'You're too damn skinny,' thought Roach.

"You're too damn skinny!" Bingo. Roach had been right. It was like a script shouted back and forth so often that Roach thought it might be easier to use a recording. "Five-six and one-twenty pounds," continued her mother. "Why that's..."

"That's not right, no girl should be such a stick!" piped in Roach's younger brother, Caleb. She giggled, guessing Caleb was as sick of the whole tirade as she was.

"Don't talk back to me..." Roach's mother turned her full force on Caleb as Roach closed her door. The whole escapade reminded Roach why she'd become Roach in the first place.

"Rache, are you ok?" asked Samantha over the noise of students gabbing at their lockers. Rachel only nodded, in the distracted manner she'd adopted for the last couple days. A sigh escaped from Samantha, one of the several since Rachel had shrunk back into her "shell". In reality, Rachel had been thinking over what she liked to consider her new lot in life. Roach had contacted her two days after their first meeting.

"You've agreed," Roach had said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know these things?" replied Rachel. Tapping the side of her head, Roach smiled.

"I just do. Besides, you didn't run off when you saw me." Roach chuckled. "Look, it's not hard to start. We need an alias for you... it's not smart to wreak something with your name on it. First thing first... give me your new name and then I'll teach you all I know."

"Any suggestions?" Rachel asked. "The group at our school always uses a bug for their name. Before me was Spydar, and before her...” Roach paused, thinking for a moment. "Before her isn't important. You get the idea." She handed Rachel a slip of paper.

"What's this...?" Rachel asked.

"Open it later... when you've decided on your name." She waved and twirled around. "Be quick, mmm-kay?"

Since that day, Rachel had been brainstorming different names. And Samantha had been worried about her quietness.

"See you at lunch," Rachel said, darting into her class. Sighing, she got out the piece of paper that she'd been brainstorming on. "Hopper? Nah... Ant? Nah... uh... cricket." She blinked for a moment, then erased it. "Maybe with all k's?" Scribbling down a couple versions, Rachel smiled. "I like."

Later that day, Roach hacked into her illegal mail account. She had 1 new message. Clicking on it, she opened the mail, reading:

A smile creeped across her face. Rachel was even quicker than she had been. Or, KriKiT, now. 'The others need to know of our newest member,' thought Roach. ‘I hope Spydar is proud...’

"KriKiT, I'm picking you up next Saturday, okay?" Roach said as soon as Rachel picked up the phone. It took her a moment; she hadn't been called 'KriKiT' to her face before... or over the phone as the case may be.

"I'm gonna stop asking how you do that and just ask what time," replied Rachel.

"Good girl. We're going to Hot Topic, and getting you some new clothes."

Again, Rachel paused. "But I don't have the money for that!" she cried. "I'm broke."

"But," retorted Roach. "I'm not."

"I can't have you..." started Rachel.

"Too bad," interrupted Roach. "Be ready at... um, noon. Gah, that's early!"

A sigh of defeat from Rachel's side was heard. "Fine, noon. See ya!"

"Later, KriKiT." Click. The line was dead. Rachel slowly hung the phone back on the receiver.

"What have I gotten myself into?" she muttered to herself.

“This is so uncomfortable,” Rachel, now KriKiT, whined. Roach silenced her with her hand. It was three weeks after the two had gone to Hot Topic, picking out KriKiT’s wardrobe. She was now dressed in a black tank top, tight black leather pants, her dirty blonde hair pulled back out of her face. It was a dramatic change from her usual jeans and a T-shirt that never fit quite right, but as Roach pointed out, KriKiT and Rachel were two dramatically different people.

It was KriKiT’s first mission. Roach wanted to introduce her to the school properly. The school had a news broadcast that just aired in the classrooms. They were going to sneak in before school, and change the opening screen. To Roach, it was a very simple job, one that she’d done several times; to KriKiT, on the other hand… this was it, her first job.

Roach ushered KriKiT into the room where the program was filmed. She was much quieter than KriKiT had ever seen her. Much more professional, a change from her chatty ways while teaching KriKiT how to program viruses, and tear down any that someone would happen to send her. Instantly, Roach was at the computer that was used to program the cheesy opening scenes, simple text with a background. Grinning, Roach turned to KriKiT.

“Type out your opening speech to the world, hun.”

It took KriKiT a moment to decide what to type. After a couple seconds, though, her fingers flew. She brought Roach over to see it, and for her approval.

“Nice touch,” was her mentor’s reply.

After first period, Rachel and Samantha stood outside of their classrooms. “How’d you do on the test?” asked Samantha.

“Not too bad, got a B. It’s an easy class over-all, though,” said Rachel. Her gaze wandered up to the clock in the hall. “It’s almost homeroom… I better go, I’ve got a long haul.” Hugs were exchanged and Rachel took off. Samantha sighed a little, missing the time they used to spend together. Rachel was still warm and friendly, but never had time for her anymore… her weekends were always booked. ‘Oh well,’ Samantha thought. ‘At least she’s opening up…’

Rachel was the last person into homeroom, making it as soon as the bell rang. She smiled at her teacher, taking her seat. No one noticed that she was the only one paying attention to the daily new show. Most of the kids thought it was boring, and badly done. But as long as you were quiet, their homeroom teacher didn’t care if you watched or not.

“Turn on the television,” requested Mrs. Morris, their homeroom teacher. As soon as the kid nearest to the television did, all of them soon regretted it. A loud screeching noise came from the black box, followed by the opening screen. We’re sorry to interrupt you’re daily program, it read. But we’d now like to introduce the newest menace to Poynter H.S. The one, and only… KriKiT! That blinked for a couple moments. After that, a screensaver-like program popped up, filling the entire screen with crickets. It was no surprise to the student body when the principal soon came on over the intercom.

“We’re very sorry for the inconvenience. But we’d like to know that whoever sabotaged the newscast for today will be in very big trouble. If you know anything about it, please tell us in the office, immediately!” The intercom clicked, and was silent. So was the classroom. No one really cared. In fact, they welcomed it.

Hands propped up behind her head, Rachel slumped down in her chair, a small smirk on her face. She was back in her normal clothes, back to being Rachel. The mission had gone off perfectly, nothing happened, no one caught. And by the looks of it, no one would be.

Months passed, missions were carried out. Roach and KriKiT seemed to be an unbeatable team. And no one ever suspected Rachel to be the newest anarchist in the school. She kept her grades up, her teachers liked her. Rachel’s parents even liked her new friend, Jordan. Though it worried them that she never hung out with Samantha anymore.

“Are you and Sam still tight?” Mrs. Morrigann asked Rachel one day. They were in the kitchen, Rachel eating a banana.

“Mmm-hmmm,” was the only sound Rachel could make, her mouth full of the yellow fruit.

“How come I never see her anymore?”

Swallowing, Rachel replied, ”She’s busy a lot. With choir. And she doesn’t like going to the movies that Jordan and I like to see… stuff like that. But we hang out at school.” Standing, to toss the banana peel away, Rachel tried to make a hasty retreat. She was so much more comfortable being KriKiT now, she didn’t really enjoy the transition back to her original life. “I’ll be in my room, mom,” she called, running up to her sanctuary. Sighing softly to herself, Rachel looked around. It was the only thing that showed of her second life. A Tool poster hung where she once had a Beatles poster. Black lights were installed, much against her mother’s wishes.

Laying on her soft bed, with dark purple sheets instead of the light yellow ones she used to have, Rachel sighed. Softly, she closed her eyes, just thinking. Of the past, of the present… and of things to come.

The end of the school year came in sight. Rachel was at the top of her class; KriKiT was the most wanted person in school. Half of the population wanted to wring her neck. The other half wanted to shake her hand. Roach started backing off on the missions, only telling KriKiT what the mission was. She wanted KriKiT to be on her own now, since this was Roach’s senior year. But Roach was always there, coaching KriKiT since the girl seemed to be scared to try anything alone.

“Your first mission is next week,” Roach said in the car one Saturday night. They were on their way to a rave, one of KriKiT’s new favorite activities. Though she never experimented with drugs, like Roach sometimes did, KriKiT loved to dance.

“No way,” KriKiT replied. She was dressed in a dark purple tank-top, and some dark blue jean shorts, Roach in a long black dress with a feather boa over it. “I can’t do it alone.”

“You have to, KriK. What are you gonna do next year when I’m gone? Just stop?” Roach cried. She never was this emotional. “You can’t. You’re going to do it alone.”

KriKiT sighed loudly. “Will GOD be there tonight?” she asked quietly, trying to change the subject.

“I don’t know… and don’t do this to me! It’s next Thursday, at the choir concert.” Roach paused for a moment. This was a test, to see if KriKiT could do it. She knew that her friend Samantha was involved heavily in choir, and wondered if KriKiT could ever do anything that could hurt her.

“What do you want me to do, sabotage it?” KriKiT asked. It was well known that Roach had a vendetta against the choir director at their school.

“Exactly.”

“Well… if it’s that easy… okay, I’ll do it alone,” KriKiT conceded.

“What about Samantha?” Roach asked, double-checking that KriKiT was that committed.

KriKiT turned her gray eyes onto her friend. “Who’s Samantha?”

To KriKiT, the choir concert mission was the most important ever. She had to get in and get out, without being seen. As a precaution, KriKiT dyed her hair blue, and dressed in what she deemed her ‘Trinity Outfit’, as it was fully leather like Trinity’s was in The Matrix. Light blue sunglasses topped off the outfit. No one would recognize her.

That morning, she cut second period to sneak up into the auditorium. It was open, because all of the choirs were practicing in it that day. But there were no choir rehearsals that period so KriKiT was safe.

It was a large room with nice, comfortable seats, a large stage and a control room with east-to-operate controls. Too easy, thought KriKiT. As Roach had noticed, KriKiT’s strong points were programming and re-wiring. Peeking in, KriKiT grinned. Not only was this easy, but she could have fun with it too.

Twenty minutes later, the setup was complete. KriKiT had installed a homemade timer, which would set off her non re-programmable setting. In the middle of the show, the lights would start blinking and behind the choir her blue spray-painted backdrop would fall, reading KriKiT is the one!

The whole thing should go perfectly. Roach was right; she was ready to be on her own. Finally, KriKiT had a purpose.

That night, Rachel consoled a crying Samantha, who was upset by the wrecked concert. “At least,” choked out Samantha between sobs, “our choir got to perform.”

Rachel didn’t end up going to Jordan’s graduation. She knew it was going to be messy. Rumor was that Roach would be showing her face, but it never happened. Instead, there was a simple white banner painted in red that said:

At the start of the next school year, the whole building was infested with crickets. A present, of course, from KriKiT. Rachel found her niche in English, and was one of the better writers of her class.

Roach and KriKiT stayed in contact, but KriKiT became just as feared, if not more so, than her mentor had been. But at her graduation, Roach had never been more right. She was gone, but never forgotten; Roach was in KriKiT’s every action, engraved in her life forever.