Owen clicked on the Friendpage app. It was full of people showing support for the Coyotes. Go Coyotes! Hoooooowwwwl! Beat the Sharks! His eyes rolled at the amount of school spirit. It puzzled him. One would think, being the star player, that he would live for this stuff, but he didn't. He hated the sport. Truth was, he just wanted to get into a good college and make people proud of him. He just wanted to prove he was worthy of life--a difficult concept for him. It was hard to feel human when he was so different.

He went to the search bar and typed in Craig Jensen. Everyone is connected by this ridiculous app, he reasoned. Craig's dealer should be on his friend list. But as soon as he started scrolling down the list of Craig's friends, his screen flickered. Owen stopped touching everything. He gave it an odd glare, the continued. Face after face drifted by while he contemplated them all. Some he knew, some he did not, but so far no one looked like a dealer.

What exactly do big time dealers look like? He wondered. But he figured he'd probably realize when he saw one. Maybe they wore flashy gold chains or held up money in their photos. There would surely be something to clue him in-

The screen went black, then came back again, and this time when he took his hand off, it kept blinking. It was going wild. Friendpage broke up in lines, blinking here and there, dissolving and reappearing as if the screen had been damaged. The thought that something was wrong with the battery entered his mind. Perhaps it was overheating. It could explode. With caution, Owen dropped his phone and stood from his bed.

Suddenly, Friendpage disappeared completely and a webpage took its place. A plain, steady screen with no malfunctions.

"What the hell?" he mumbled, watching it.

It didn't change, but sat there in its complete normalness. Puzzled, he glared around his room as if some malevolent force had momentarily possessed his phone was now floating beneath his ceiling. Nothing was there to be seen by the naked eye. He edged over to his bed and snatched the phone.

Crossroads Voodoo said the heading. Upon reading it, he felt a chill swoop through him. Below that it said 6 Hollow Grove. Did they even have a Hollow Grove? Suddenly the page jumped as if he'd scrolled down. A tiny map of his town filled his screen. The familiar roads veined through a flat black background. He thought he knew them all. He'd spent two summers delivering pizzas and had studied the map of his town many times, but the street that twisted off from Proon Lane was entirely new to him. Tiny uneven letters along the road claimed it was called Hollow Road. The letters were skinny. Snaky. Much different than the rest of the map.

The map broke apart. The strange black screen dissolved and the familiar layout of Friendpage came back. Owen stared. Freaky, he thought. Maybe it was some link he clicked on Friendpage. A little spook, just for fun. He grinned and shook his head. The idea that someone could create something like that was impressive. That person definitely thought outside the box. Owen thought maybe if he met that person, he wouldn't feel the urge to see them bloody and silent. He chuckled and continued scrolling.

Nobody stood out to him. There were no photos with bold letters that said I'm a drug dealer or call me if you need a fix. He would have to figure out something else. Frustrated, he tossed the phone on his bed and laid back. His eyes closed, hands covering them. Out of the darkness of his eyelids the map reformed. Was there really a Hollow Road? It was probably the last thing he should be thinking about, but he was drawing a complete blank when it comes to the medication he needed. Maybe if he just went for a drive, he could clear his head. And while he's going for a drive, why not explore Hollow Road?