Offline

by Donna Cooner

  Cait panted like a dog outside on a sunny day.

  “Not like that,” Luna said. “Breathe in for six counts, then out for six counts. Slowly.”

  Luna counted and we breathed. I did feel a bit more relaxed than I had a few minutes ago.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “ ‘Clear your mind of everything,’ ” Luna read.

  “But how do you do that?” Caitlin asked. “If you’re thinking about clearing your mind, then your mind is full of something.”

  My mind wasn’t clearing either. I opened my eyes.

  “You should try to sit still for a minute and think about what calms you,” Luna said, and closed her book. “I’ll do it with you.”

  We all three sat silently, breathing and trying not to think about not thinking.

  Finally, Caitlin whispered, “So, we’re doing it now, right?”

  “I think so,” I fake-whispered back.

  “Shhh,” Luna said.

  “What are you thinking about?” Caitlin whispered.

  “What Jameson is posting on ChitChat now,” I said. “You?”

  “The results of the poll,” Caitlin whispered back.

  “Shh,” Luna whispered again. But then she added, “If Tamar has posted anything on ChitChat about the newspaper.”

  I opened my eyes. Both girls were staring back at me.

  “I don’t think we did it right,” I said.

  Luna sighed. “Okay,” she said, opening another book. “One suggestion is to think of a favorite childhood memory.” She glanced from me to Caitlin. “Maybe we can all think of something fun we did together?”

  “Ohhhh,” Caitlin said. “I like that one.”

  “Ice cream,” I said decisively. “Ben and Jerry’s on the square.”

  Luna and Caitlin grinned, and I knew they were remembering that day, too. We were eleven years old, and our parents had let us go to Ben & Jerry’s on our own for the first time. We sat beside the fountain on the bench with our treats. I’d gotten a hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and sprinkles. Luna got a strawberry cone, and Caitlin, a large cup of Chunky Monkey. I closed my eyes and remembered the taste of the ice cream, the gooey amazingness. Kids were running around, and a guy was playing a jazzy song on the outdoor piano. The air was warm, and Caitlin was laughing because Luna’s cone was melting faster than she could eat it.

  I realized that the memory had finally taken my thoughts off ChitChat and Jameson. I opened my eyes and smiled at my friends. They looked calmer, too.

  I felt a hopeful charge in the air. Maybe we could do this. We didn’t have to follow the crowd into the endless posts and reposts. It felt like a new beginning. Or a small miracle.

  CAITLIN: OOOOMMMMMM. OOOOOOOMMMMM.

  ANNIE: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE?

  CAITLIN: SHHH. I’M MEDITATING.

  LUNA: YEAH, RIGHT.

  CAITLIN: WELL, I’M TRYING.

  LUNA: POINTS FOR TRYING.

  ANNIE: SO … HOW ARE WE ALL DOING, THREE DAYS IN? #TEAMSO

  LUNA: NOT GONNA LIE, I KEEP PICKING UP MY PHONE TO CHECK CHITCHAT AND THEN REMEMBERING.

  ANNIE: LITERALLY SAME.

  CAITLIN: I’M DYING TO KNOW HOW THE POLL IS GOING!!!!

  LUNA: WE HAVE TO RESIST THE URGE TO CHECK!

  ANNIE: YES! WE CAN DO THIS!

  LUNA: IT’S ALMOST TEN P.M. SCREENS DOWN, REMEMBER?

  ANNIE: *GRUMBLE* OK

  CAITLIN: I CAN’T HEAR YOU. I’M MEDITATING AGAIN.

  It’s not whether you get knocked down, it’s whether you get up.

  —Vince Lombardi

  Once I saw a video of a sloth crossing the road while cars buzzed by on either side. That was sort of how I felt without ChitChat—meticulously crawling across the days while trying not to be crushed by everything whirling around me. The only difference was, people thought the sloth was adorable.

  Staying off ChitChat was an hourly struggle. It didn’t help that in school, I still saw Jameson every day. He was everywhere. Outside the auditorium. In the hallway. Walking across the parking lot. And he never seemed sad.

  Not.

  At.

  All.

  I also saw Mariah and her friends, and heard the faint laughter and snarky comments that seemed to trail me wherever I went. I still wondered what people were saying about me online, but I didn’t break down and check. I realized that not seeing everything magnified a million times on ChitChat was pretty helpful.

  Still, though, I missed social media like a constant ache. It felt so strange not to post selfies with fun filters, or an artfully framed shot of the sky. I wondered what sorts of cool travel posts I was missing.

  On Friday afternoon, Luna, Caitlin, and I agreed to meet again in Caitlin’s backyard to check in on our progress—no phones allowed. When I got there, Caitlin hadn’t arrived yet but Luna sat in an Adirondack chair by the firepit, her book bag at her feet and laptop open on her knees. I knew she had to be working on a school assignment or a newspaper story because laptops were not allowed at these meetings either.

  I sat down beside her and pulled my chair close to her to see what she was doing. She was staring at the cursor blinking rhythmically on a blank document.

  “What are you working on?” I asked her.

  “I’m trying to start an article,” she explained.

  “About what?”

  “Pet ducks.”

  I frowned. “Because?”

  “Mr. Bob, the school resource officer, keeps a duck as a pet,” Luna said. “I’m thinking human interest profile? People like animal stories?”

  I couldn’t keep the lack of enthusiasm off my face. “Maybe you’re trying too hard,” I said carefully.

  Luna shut her laptop in frustration. “I have to submit my article to Tamar in two weeks. I’m running out of time.” She turned to me. “I’m never going to be editor in chief, am I?”

  “Stop it. You’re going to come up with something big enough to write about,” I reassured her.

  “Everything’s been done before. And done better,” Luna said, shaking her head.

  I put my arm around her. “But not by you.”

  I could tell that talking about her failure to come up with an idea made her even more stressed. “It’s just … hard.”

  “Then why do it?” I asked.

  “The school newspaper is more than just a way to make announcements about cheerleading practice,” she said, sitting up straight. “It’s the voice of the student body and a place for everyone’s opinions and ideas. The newspaper allows students to become part of the conversation, not just read about it.”

  I smiled, and Luna realized she’d been set up. “You did that on purpose.”

  “I wanted you to remember why you love it so much.”

  “I do love it,” she said, reaching for my hand and squeezing it tight. “Thank you for reminding me.” Then she peered at me. “How are you?” she asked.

  “Not too bad,” I said without emotion.

  I could tell she wasn’t convinced.

  At that moment, Caitlin appeared in her backyard. Her cheeks were bright pink, and she walked slowly toward us with her head hanging down. She looked almost as if she’d been crying. My stomach squeezed. Caitlin never cried.

  When she reached us, she slumped into the third chair and pulled her feet up, folding into herself. This was bad.

  “What’s up with you?” Luna asked.

  Caitlin hesitated, not answering. Instead, she pulled the laces of her sneakers undone, then retied them. I frowned, looking at her. Something was definitely wrong.

  “What happened?” I asked quietly.

  Finally, Caitlin said, “I have to tell you guys something.”

  Luna and I exchanged a worried glance. I braced myself.

  “I did something I’m not proud of,” Caitlin said, keeping her gaze low. “Just now.”

  “What is it?” Luna asked.

  Caitlin bit her lip like she was trying to keep the words from flying
out. When she finally spoke, her voice was shaky and thick. “I went on ChitChat.”

  What?

  I heard Luna gasp, but I sat in shocked silence. Yes, Caitlin was a rule breaker. Yes, keeping this vow was nearly impossible for all of us. But if any of us was going to be the one to crack first, I was certain it would be me. Not her.

  Caitlin was always the winner in any game. She could keep hidden the longest in hide-and-seek without making a peep. She swung the highest. Ran the fastest. How could she have given up on this so easily? It had practically been her idea in the first place.

  “You?” I asked at last. “Why?”

  Caitlin looked stricken. “The stupid poll,” she muttered.

  “I thought you were having Davis fill you in on the results,” Luna said.

  Caitlin shook her head. “It was more than that. See, when I was at football practice this afternoon, during a break, I decided to try to kick a field goal from thirty yards out. And I did it.” Happiness and pride flashed across her face, and in spite of everything, I was excited for my friend. “Then I saw that Milo had filmed the whole thing and he told me he was posting it to ChitChat and linking to my poll.” She paused and glanced from me to Luna, her eyes pleading for us to understand. “So then I had to see what people were saying.”

  I made a face at the mention of Milo. But I did understand how Caitlin must have felt. Why she’d been so curious to look.

  “So you reactivated ChitChat?” I said, and Caitlin nodded sheepishly.

  “As soon as I got home,” she whispered.

  I wanted to ask her if she’d checked out Jameson’s posts, or Mariah’s. If she’d seen people posting more horrible things about me.

  “But I only looked at the video,” Caitlin said, as if reading my mind. “And then the poll. Promise. No other scrolling. And then I deleted the app again.”

  “What were people saying?” Luna asked flatly. I could tell how disappointed she was in Caitlin, and that made me feel awful, too.

  “They loved it,” Caitlin whispered with a mix of joy and regret. “Everyone was sharing and liking the video.”

  “And what about the poll?” I asked. Suddenly, I remembered that the results were supposed to go up today. I held my breath.

  Caitlin’s face flushed again, but now she looked purely happy. “The results were up. Seventy-five percent voted yes.”

  “That’s amazing!” I cried, momentarily forgetting that she’d broken the vow. I reached over and gave Caitlin a big hug. After a minute, Luna joined in our hug as well.

  “It really is amazing,” Luna said. “Congratulations, Cait.”

  “Does this mean you’re going to be on the football team?” I asked her as we all pulled free from the hug.

  Caitlin shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m worried my dad won’t let me join. Especially midseason.”

  “Have you asked him?” I asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Then it’s still game on,” I said firmly. “You’ve never been a quitter, so don’t start now.”

  Caitlin flinched. “Well, I quit the vow.”

  “You did,” Luna replied, not letting her off the hook.

  “I’m so sorry,” Caitlin said, glancing from me to Luna. “Can you guys forgive me?”

  “Of course,” I said, wanting to be the peacemaker. “People make mistakes.” I glanced at Luna. “Right?”

  Luna sighed, softening a little. “Right,” she said. “I forgive you, too, Cait,” she said, and Caitlin’s face lit up with a small, grateful smile. “It’s not like any of us are perfect,” Luna added. “To be totally honest, the thing I’m having the hardest time with isn’t even staying off ChitChat. It’s the lack of texting.”

  “That sucks, too,” I said, nodding. “Three times a day is not enough.”

  “Maybe we need to come up with a different kind of outlet,” Luna said. “A way to express ourselves without texting.”

  “Like what?” Caitlin asked.

  I shrugged. “Sending up flares from our bedroom windows?”

  Luna smirked. “Very funny. Maybe we could write stuff down,” she said thoughtfully. “But in notebooks. Not on our phones.” She put aside her laptop and rummaged inside her backpack before pulling out her trusty notebook. “Sometimes when I’m working on a story and I get stuck, I switch to writing down ideas in my notebook. Something about using a pen and paper helps me think in a different way.”

  I frowned. “But what kind of stuff would we write?”

  “I don’t know,” Luna said. “Anything. Everything.”

  Caitlin looked doubtful. “I’m not big on writing down my feelings.”

  “So, don’t,” Luna said. “Write whatever you want. I might even share some of my favorite motivational quotes.”

  Caitlin groaned.

  “Not that!” I said.

  Luna laughed. “The point is, whenever we feel like posting something or picking up our phones, we write in the notebook instead.”

  “Who do we write to?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. The world?” Luna said. “That’s who we post to on ChitChat, right?”

  The ChitChat comments still swirled around my mind like a whirlpool waiting to suck me down.

  “No,” I said firmly. “This is a break from social media. Instead of writing to everyone, we write to ourselves.”

  Caitlin thought about it. “It’s like posting to our insides instead of our outsides.”

  Luna nodded solemnly in agreement. “Exactly.”

  “Do we show our entries to each other?” Caitlin asked, looking from me to Luna.

  “Maybe not at first,” Luna said thoughtfully. “We just write for ourselves for now. But maybe later we can share the journals … if we feel comfortable.” She paused and added, “Not that we have any secrets from each other.”

  “True,” Caitlin said.

  “But there’s a problem,” I finally spoke up, and my friends glanced at me, their eyebrows raised. “We need notebooks. Special ones. For each of us.”

  Luna grinned. “Shopping trip!”

  The Right Card was a shop at the far corner of the square, and the perfect spot for all things journal-y. Before we could get to the journals, though, we were distracted by everything else on offer. The coloring books by the front door immediately attracted Luna’s attention, and she oohed and aahed over each one like she’d never colored anything before in her life. Caitlin immediately went to the wall of greeting cards and started reading aloud every corny punch line, ignoring the frowning face of the woman behind the register.

  “Look at this one.” Caitlin waved me over and I obediently read the jokey birthday card and smiled appropriately. She reluctantly put it back on the shelf. “I love it when Snoopy looks like a vulture on his doghouse,” she said.

  I left Caitlin to the greeting cards and sniffed my way through a collection of candles. I tried on a soft blue knitted beanie that Luna insisted matched my eyes perfectly, so I decided to buy it for myself as a treat. Caitlin gave up on the cards and went over to convince the woman behind the counter, Mira, to let her taste test the jelly beans. Mira agreed, and I watched as Caitlin carefully selected one bright pink, one purple, and one green jelly bean from the candy counter display. Caitlin put each one in her mouth, one at a time, then slowly chewed while nodding thoughtfully. After the tasting, she discussed the flavors in depth with Mira. Together they decided the green one was not a good choice. Definitely not apple-y enough for either of them. The mixed-berry-smoothie-flavored purple one was a top contender.

  “But I have to say Jelly Belly Watermelon is everything summer in one tiny little bite,” Caitlin said. “Definitely one of my favorites.”

  I was surprised to see Mira nod in agreement so enthusiastically she almost shook her tiny yellow reading glasses off her nose. I wanted to laugh. They bonded over jelly beans?

  Finally, Luna called me toward the back of the store. “Remember what we came for?” she said, holding a leather jou
rnal in her hand and flipping through the blank pages.

  I nodded and surveyed the shelves. There was every type of journal imaginable—leather, flower-covered, striped, Hello Kitty—and I instantly felt overwhelmed by the choices.

  Caitlin joined us in the back of the store, still chewing her jelly beans. “Cool,” she said, and reached for a plain red cloth-covered one. “This should work.”

  “All these options and you pick one just like that?” I asked, impressed and a little envious.

  “What?” She looked at me in surprise. “It’s what’s inside that counts.”

  I scanned the shelf, looking for inspiration. “I want one that speaks to me,” I said. “The outside is important, too.”

  And then I saw the one. It was a forest-green hardcover, with a gold dragon painted on the front. The letters printed beneath the dragon were gold foil and slick to the touch—A journal for writing your own story. I nodded. Fighting dragons was exactly what I needed to do inside this book. My fingers traced the feel of the dragon. It was perfect.

  After a lot of debate, Luna finally chose her own journal—a cloth-bound book with pink stripes and big black flowers. She felt the fun look of it would encourage her to write something different from her usual news stories.

  “Now let’s go pay,” Luna said, leading the way back to the counter.

  “Wait,” I said. “I need a pen.”

  Caitlin’s eyebrows furrowed. “A special pen?”

  I nodded. “Exactly.”

  I wanted strong, bold letters that moved the words across the page and helped me pull the thoughts out of my head. It turned out that Mira had a big pen display behind the counter. It took a few tests on a notepad, but I finally found the pen that glided across the surface and left powerful black marks behind.

  “Now I’m ready,” I said. I paid for the pen, the journal, and the blue beanie. Caitlin bought a bag of watermelon jelly beans and her journal, and Luna got her journal and a coloring book. The three of us walked out of the store with our new purchases under our arms, and it seemed to me that we all felt a little lighter.

  “We did it,” Luna said proudly. “Now let the journaling commence!”