Confessions

You frown at the crumpled card, which it appears that someone has stepped on. There’s nothing on it but a QR code. It’s difficult to know who dropped something like this in CCL House. The place gets messy whenever the president is away.

You take it to the lost and found: a large wicker basket in the foyer that contains an assortment of random items: a single, lonely Hoka; a pair of bold Umbros, several hairbrushes and Stanley cups, a Fitbit, and more. You doubt anyone will be looking for this card, but virtue is its own reward.

You discreetly scan it, then toss it in.

Turning away, the bright white on the screen of your phone almost hurts your eyes. You purse your lips and frown in confusion. It’s a website, but not like any website you’ve seen before. It’s all just awkward fonts, text on white, and bright, blue links. It’s hard to see on a phone screen.

Apple Darcy situates her purse as she descends the stairs, obviously planning to leave. She spots you and wanders over.

“Everything all right?” she asks.

“Just looking at this.”

“Oh. That’s old. That’s from the 90s,” she tells you. “Whatever it is.”

“How do you know?”

“They show things like this in Intro to Web Design. Professor Harlan’s class.”

“Oh. Weird.” You forward the link to yourself and head up to your room, where you open your laptop and check it out as it’s meant to be seen. They obviously weren’t making things for phones back then, but this is hardly better. The words look almost grainy. The harsh black and blue on white stabs your eyeballs.

ARE YOU 18 OR OLDER?