TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter One: Explosive News

  Chapter Two: Can it be True?

  Chapter Three: Friendships Divided

  Chapter Four: Pick a Side!

  Chapter Five: Where to Start?

  Chapter Six: A Deep Fake?

  Chapter Seven: The Clues Pile Up

  Chapter Eight: A New Plan Begins

  Glossary

  The Cyber Sleuths Code

  Resources

  About the Author

  About the Illustrator

  Copyright

  Back Cover

  Cover

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Start of Content

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  back cover

  CHAPTER ONE

  EXPLOSIVE NEWS

  “Watching the clock won’t make time go faster,” Ameer told his best friend, Rika.

  “I can’t stand it,” said Rika, pointing around the gym. “When will it all end?”

  The “it” Rika was referring to was the “Phone Off! Fundraiser” their school, Willow Dale, was holding. Everyone had agreed to give up their phones and internet for twenty-four hours—from Friday at three in the afternoon until Saturday. The money raised was going to send devices and internet services to people who otherwise couldn’t afford them.

  The last twenty-four hours had been awesome. There had been lots of games, and it was super cool to have a school-wide sleepover. But Ameer was excited to get home. He missed his bed and his pet cat and dog. And—not that he’d admit it out loud—he wanted to see his parents.

  “I think the clock is going backward.” Rika tugged on her baseball hat.

  “It’s not,” Ameer assured her. “We have five minutes left to go.”

  Tim and Cara, the other two friends in their bestie group, joined them.

  “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get your phone?” Tim asked as he sat beside Ameer.

  Cara groaned and pulled her hoodie over her face. “Answer all the texts from my mom.”

  They laughed.

  “Check my Short-Story feed,” said Rika. “I’m dying to find out what I’ve missed.”

  “I bet there’s a new dance challenge,” said Tim.

  Ameer grimaced. “I hope not.” He wasn’t a great dancer. The last challenge left him with a sprained ankle, which would have been fine, except Rika was live-streaming his attempt. The entire school saw him trip over his laces and almost land on his face.

  “All right!” Miss Louise, their principal, waved her arm to get everyone’s attention. “The teachers are passing out your phones. Do not turn them on until I give the signal.”

  An excited murmur rippled through the gym. Their fundraiser was almost over. Once the phones were handed out, Miss Louise took the stage again. She adjusted her red glasses. “I am proud to announce that we have raised enough money to help over one hundred people get access to phones, computers, and the internet!”

  The gym erupted in cheers and applause. Ameer and his friends whooped and hollered as loudly as they could.

  “Access to devices and internet is more important than ever,” said Miss Louise. “In this digital age, everyone needs easy access to online resources like school websites, job opportunities, and programs.” She paused. “And we all know how important it is to keep up on the dance trends!” Miss Louise waved at Ameer. “Right, Ameer?”

  Ameer laughed. “Yes! And access to first-aid videos, too!”

  His friends gave him a high five just as Miss Louise said, “The countdown is on! Ready to turn on your phones in five… four… three… two… one… go!”

  Ameer turned on his phone and then looked around the gym. The lights from the devices shaded people’s faces in blue and white.

  Cara’s phone pinged again and again. “Guess who that is?” She bent over her cell and began to answer her mom’s texts.

  Ameer checked his texts and let his parents know he was ready to be picked up. He gathered his sleeping bag and pillow. Ameer jerked upright when Rika let out a high-pitched squeal and slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Ameer and his friends looked over as Rika slowly lifted her head and turned her phone around.

  “You guys,” she said. “You’ll never believe what I just saw.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  CAN IT BE TRUE?

  “Check out this video,” Rika said.

  Ameer, Cara, and Tim crowded around Rika’s phone. She restarted the video clip. The black screen gave way to a familiar face.

  Self-Akeem, one of their favorite singers, waved at the camera. He was wearing a black shirt with “Pets in the Park” written on it. Sitting next to him on the patio was one of his rescue dogs, Moe, a brown-and-white mix who lost a leg in a car accident.

  “Hey, guys,” he began, looking straight into the camera. “You’ve been my devoted fans for a long time. And you’ve always been here to support me and encourage me in the business.” He took a deep breath. “You all have been so great and loyal, but I’ve been lying to you about something pretty big, and it’s time to come clean.” Self-Akeem took another breath. “The truth is… I’m not the singer behind my songs. I can’t sing at all. For the past three years, I’ve just been lip-syncing to the music.”

  Ameer gasped. He loved Self-Akeem. In fact, it was his song that Ameer was dancing to when he hurt himself. Ameer wasn’t a great dancer, but singing was his thing. He’d been using Self-Akeem’s songs as practice and taking encouragement from the singer’s journey from a street performer to a global star. But it wasn’t just Self-Akeem’s music that Ameer loved. The artist was a big advocate for animals and helping the environment. When Ameer became a professional singer, he wanted to use his celebrity to help the world, just like his hero.

  Ameer’s stomach tightened. This can’t be true, he thought. Self-Akeem is the real deal, not a fraud.

  “I’m really sorry for the lie,” said the singer. “You deserve better. You deserve a real artist, not a fake one. I hope you can forgive me.” He signed off.

  Ameer stared at the blank screen, stunned.

  “I don’t even know what to say,” Tim finally mumbled. “I love his work.”

  “I thought he was the whole package,” said Cara. “Singer, songwriter, and dancer. Now it’s all a lie?”

  “That’s hard to believe,” said Ameer.

  A growing chorus of whispers and the hum of shocked conversation caught Ameer’s focus. All around the gym, kids were pointing at their screens and showing their devices to their friends. Faintly, he could hear Self-Akeem’s voice, tinny and thin, saying, “I’m not the singer behind my songs.”

  Ameer’s disbelief was mirrored in people’s reactions. Surprise and shock were in their voices and expressions.

  “But if Self-Akeem is saying this, it must be true,” Tim said. His words were slow as though he was trying to sound out the truth for himself. “I mean, why would he lie?”

  It was a good question and one that followed Ameer as he headed to the school’s main doors to meet his father. Dad was waiting in their white SUV and Poppy, the family’s shepherd-terrier mix, was belted into the rear seat.

  Ameer jumped in the back and cuddled Poppy, who eagerly cuddled back. “OK.” He laughed, wiping the slobber of her kisses from his face. “I missed you, too.”

  “And what about your dear old dad?” His father asked as he carefully pulled the SUV from the curb and into traffic.

  “I guess it depends on what dear old dad is making for dinner,” Ameer said.

  “Oh! That hurts!” Dad clutched his chest. “We’re doing tacos.”

  “Yes!” Ameer pumped his fist.

  “How was the fundraiser?” Dad asked.

  Ameer told his dad about the games and how much fun he had. As he recounted the day, Self-Akeem’s video played in his mind.

  “There was something kind of weird, though,” Ameer said and told his dad about the singer’s confession.

  Dad groaned. “Not again. You’d think record companies would have stopp

ed this lip-syncing nonsense.”

  “What do you mean ‘not again’?” Ameer leaned forward.

  “Back in the nineties, a couple of bands got in trouble for doing something similar. Instead of singers, they used models who pretended to sing,” Dad said. “Let me think… there was Milli Vanilli. And there was another group called Black Box that did something similar.”

  “Wow, so it’s possible that Self-Akeem is telling the truth?” asked Ameer.

  Dad shrugged as the SUV stopped at a traffic light. “It’s possible.”

  Doubt swam inside of Ameer and made his stomach hurt. He’d been hoping his dad would say it was a prank. But now, Ameer wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t want to follow someone who lied about their talent. Could his favorite singer really be a fraud?

  CHAPTER THREE

  FRIENDSHIPS DIVIDED

  By the time school started on Monday, the Self-Akeem scandal was a wildfire, burning through everyone’s conversations. When Ameer got to his locker, Cara was there.

  “Did you know this has happened before?” Cara said. “With a group called Black Box?”

  “It wasn’t just Black Box,” Ameer said. “My dad said there was a group called Milli Vanilli that did the same thing.”

  Cara slumped against the metal locker. “Whoa.”

  When Tim and Rika arrived, Cara caught them up on what she and Ameer were discussing.

  “Wow, I was going to tell you guys about Milli Vanilli and Black Box,” said Tim, “but I guess everyone knows.” He hitched his backpack on his shoulder. “My aunt said when she and her friends found out, they returned their music to the stores and got a refund.”

  “Maybe we should do something like that,” said Rika. “Show Self-Akeem we’re not supporting his lie.”

  Tim frowned. “But my music is streamed, not records or CDs like in the old days. How do I get a refund?”

  The group fell silent.

  “Doesn’t something feel off about the video?” Ameer asked. He couldn’t put into words, but something about it made his brain tickle.

  Rika snorted. “Everything feels off about it. Can you imagine confessing something like that to the world?” She shook her head. “I think it’s a publicity stunt. He’s going to do some live performance and then everyone will be back on board.”

  “I meant, something doesn’t feel right,” said Ameer. “Self-Akeem was supposed to start a world tour in a few months—”

  Tim snapped his fingers with a sudden idea. “That’s what I can do! I won’t buy tickets to his concert!” His shoulders dropped. “Man, I was saving up for them too. Those tickets aren’t cheap, and that concert would have been amazing.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Cara squeezed Tim’s shoulder in support. “I won’t go to his concert, either.”

  “Me too,” said Rika. “Or is that me three?” She grinned at her joke.

  “No—”

  Before Ameer could explain what he meant about the video, the bell rang. Their conversation would have to wait until lunchtime, and Ameer was counting the minutes until he could talk to his friends.

  By the time lunch rolled around, Ameer realized the school was divided. Most kids thought the video was real, and they were brainstorming ways to boycott the singer. Some kids didn’t believe the video was true because the story was too wild.

  They thought it was all a publicity stunt, something for attention. A few kids were like Ameer, they weren’t sure what to believe.

  Ameer stowed his things in his locker and headed to the cafeteria to join his friends.

  “How can you possibly think the video’s true?” A blond kid leaned across the table toward a red-headed girl. “Didn’t you see the latest one? Self-Akeem said that video about him lip-syncing is a lie.”

  His friend rolled her eyes. “That’s not the latest video. He just posted saying his record company is making him say it’s a lie, but it’s true.”

  “Are you guys talking about Self-Akeem?” a dark-haired kid came to the table. “Everyone knows he’s a sellout. I’m going to throw away anything I have of his.”

  “What? That’s nuts!” The blond kid threw his hands in the air.

  By the time Ameer walked past the table, the kids were shouting at each other. He stopped and looked around the cafeteria. No one is talking to each other, he thought. They’re just talking at each other. It’s nothing but a shouting match.

  “Hey!” Rika came up to him. She tilted her head at the noise. “Maybe we should eat outside? It’s kind of bonkers in here right now.”

  “No kidding,” said Tim, joining them and heading toward the cafeteria exit. “Cara’s already on the field. Let’s go.”

  Ameer followed his friends. I have to do something, he thought. Our school went from working as a group to fundraise to fighting with each other. We need answers about Self-Akeem.

  There was only one problem. How could he figure out the truth?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  PICK A SIDE!

  By the time school let out, the lines had been divided between people who were “Team Self-Akeem” and those who were “Team He’s a Fraud.”

  At home, Ameer flopped onto his bed. His cat, Luna, jumped up beside him.

  “I need to find out the truth about the Self-Akeem thing,” Ameer told her.

  She purred and headbutted him.

  “Good idea,” he said. He took out his phone and texted Tim, Cara, and Rika. We need to do something about the Self-Akeem situation.

  Totally, texted Tim. Something bigger than just not going to the concert.

  Cara’s text pinged next. I heard there’s a protest that’s happening downtown. Maybe we can join that.

  No way. That was Rika. It’s obvious this is just a wild publicity stunt for his new album. Why are you guys falling for it? I thought you were smarter than that.

  WHAT DID YOU SAY? Tim texted. I’M SMART, THANKS A LOT.

  Ameer winced. He could feel Tim’s hurt and anger through the phone. I don’t think she meant that. Right, Rika?

  But no one paid attention to his text.

  We’re not falling for anything. Cara’s words flashed on the screen. We don’t think we should support a fraud.

  What are you saying? Rika followed her text with an angry-face emoji. That I support liars? He posted a ton of videos saying the rumors are not true. Plus, he started out as a street singer. He can sing, there’s no doubt. Trust me, it’s just a silly stunt.

  Guys, calm down, Ameer texted.

  Don’t tell me to calm down, Rika replied. Cara just said I support liars.

  “Great,” muttered Ameer, “That text you pay attention to.” He brought up his keyboard and responded, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Maybe we should have a video chat. Sometimes it’s hard to talk through text?

  But once again, his friends ignored him.

  I’m just calling it like I see it. Cara texted. This isn’t the first time a singer has lied about their ability. It’s not even the second time! I think you’re the one who should be smarter, Rika.

  This isn’t about being smart or siding with liars. Ameer typed quickly. The chain was getting out of hand. We’re fighting about the wrong thing.

  Tim’s text popped up. Fine, then what is it about? Whose side are you on?

  What? I’m not on any side. Ameer couldn’t believe his friends were fighting over a video. What I mean is—

  Rika’s text cut him off. Give me a break. You either believe Self-Akeem or you don’t. Pick a side.

  Forget it, Tim texted. We all know he’s going to side with you, Rika.

  Because I’m right, Rika replied.

  I’m out, Cara typed.

  Me, too, texted Tim.

  The blood was rushing in Ameer’s ears. What was happening? He and his friends never fought like this.

  Wait! Ameer texted. We’re friends. We shouldn’t be fighting like this.

  Then pick a side, Rika texted. Am I right, or are they?

  Ameer’s hand fell to his side.

  Luna lifted her head and looked at him, as if asking the same question.

  “I don’t know,” he said to her, then texted, I’m sorry. I don’t know who’s right.

  Whatever. I’m out too, Rika texted.

  Ameer stared at the screen, hoping someone would come back to the group chat.

  When he realized he was alone, he sank onto the pillows. I can’t believe this video is causing so much damage. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Self-Akeem’s video had divided him and his friends. It was dividing his school. I’m definitely going to get to the bottom of this, he thought. One way or another, I’ll get the answer.

 

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