by Donna Cooner
I gave him my best sorry look, then focused back on Jeeves.
“Where we’re standing used to be the town jail.” Jeeves motioned to the caved-in wall. “Long ago, the prisoners were marched through the tunnel underground and up to the Silver Grill for breakfast. The guards would chain their shackles to the rail that lines the bar even today, and then march them back through the tunnels to their cells. But they say some prisoners got lost along the way and continue to haunt these tunnels to this day.”
Luna caught my eye and grinned. “Thirty-two percent,” she whispered.
I shook my head at her but gave another shiver. Even though I didn’t believe in ghosts, the tour was fun. And, I realized with a start, I hadn’t thought about checking ChitChat once the whole time. Being in the real world felt surprisingly good. The chatter and judgment in my brain was quiet. At least for now.
But later that night, I couldn’t win. I got out of bed, ignoring the thread of guilt pulling tight at my stomach, and picked up my phone off the desk. Then, just like I’d done the night before, I found myself clicking around on my phone, into a folder hidden inside a folder hidden inside another folder marked STUFF to find my ChitChat app. It was almost like a ritual. Something about keeping it hidden there within reach felt so wrong, but I was in way too deep now. I couldn’t give it up, and I couldn’t admit it either.
I told myself, as I often did, that I just wanted to look at the photos from my favorite travel influencers. But then, despite my best intentions, I clicked on Jameson’s feed. Just to remind myself.
His latest photo was one Mariah had tagged him in. He was at some kind of party. I zoomed in on the photo to look at the surroundings, but I didn’t recognize anything. I shrugged and kept scrolling.
I tried to ignore the guilt I felt. Stop. Turn it off. Walk away.
If I could just do that now, then maybe tomorrow I might wake up feeling clean again. The whole SO Team was making good on their vow to stay off social media. But I didn’t stop. My brain crowded with memes, comments, and photos. With every scroll and each click, I lied about being off social media and betrayed my best friends.
You’re a liar. You’re a hypocrite.
I looked at the clock on my nightstand. While I read and scrolled, another hour passed. I would never get it back.
Look away from the screen. Just for a moment.
Another hour gone. I had to stop, but the more I looked and read, the more I needed just one more jolt of dopamine. Just. One. More.
Just shut it down and turn it off.
Finally, I slammed my phone facedown on my nightstand, my fists clenched to keep from picking it right back up again.
Scroll to not feel …
Heartbroken.
Confused.
Alone.
Bored.
Fill up your prison so you never want to leave.
Or feel anything at all.
Annie
My first game of the season is not important. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Nothing will feel too different. I’ll still be sitting on the bench, watching. Now I’ll just be watching in pads, uniform, and cleats. There isn’t even a reason to put on my helmet, so I just tuck the strip of pink hair into my collar and wait.
I know some players didn’t want me here. It is obvious by the way they intentionally bump into me on the way to the water station or stand directly in my path, refusing to move, when I run out on the field to practice my kickoffs. They are subtle, but I know it’s only because I am the coach’s daughter. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself over and over again. It will only take one good kick to win them over, if I can just get the opportunity to prove myself.
But patience has never been one of my strengths.
Caitlin
When you have a dream, you’ve got to grab it and never let go.
—Carol Burnett
On Friday morning, Team SO gathered before the bell rang by Luna’s huge sign in the school’s front hall. It had been a week of checking things off the list. Davis and Ben picnicked in the school parking lot, even though they called it tailgating. Lizzie and Kiyana hiked up to Greyrock in coordinated Lululemon outfits. And Jennifer impressed everyone by fixing the 3D printer in the technology lab. Even though there were no posts about these activities on ChitChat, slowly the word was getting out, via the occasional text or phone call, or real-time conversations in the cafeteria. Now Luna was ready to go public in a big way.
The big block letters at the top of the sign read I VOW TO STAY OFFLINE and Luna’s name was already written below in decisive red marker. Luna stepped away from the list on the wall with a satisfied sigh. She paused, then looked around the group, stopping to catch each person’s eye. I looked down at the tile floor beneath my sneakers. Luna was too good at reading my thoughts, and I wasn’t going to give her the chance to see my hesitation.
She handed the marker to Caitlin, who practically jumped in front of the poster and scrawled her name proudly below Luna’s. I crossed my arms and waited, a hollow smile plastered to my face.
For a minute, I thought about telling someone the truth. Maybe Isco? I glanced over at him, and he was looking right at me. He lifted his water bottle to his mouth and took a long drink. When he finished, he wiped his mouth on the shoulder of his shirt, then offered me the bottle. I shook my head, and he shrugged with a smile. Meanwhile, all the other members of Team SO were happily signing their names. A crowd of other kids had formed around us, murmuring and snapping pictures. Even some teachers stopped to see what was happening, and they didn’t break up the growing crowd.
I watched Isco step up to the poster and sign his name. I realized he was committed just the same as everyone else. I couldn’t tell him.
Isco held out the red marker toward me, his eyebrows raised. I could feel Luna and Caitlin watching me, too. I felt slightly sick to my stomach. A wave of panic nearly sent me running in the opposite direction.
Just do it. I sucked in a breath and took the marker from Isco. Feeling more like a liar than ever, I stepped up in front of the poster, then quickly wrote my name at the very bottom.
That afternoon, our last-period teacher escorted us down the hall to the gym for the pep rally.
Caitlin waited in the hallway for the big announcement, wearing her oversized jersey and jeans just like the rest of the team. I gave her a quick hug when I walked past. This was her first time as part of a pep rally, but she knew the drill from watching it a million times. When Principal Doane called each name, each member of the football team would jog out into the gym to the roar of the crowd and take their place at center court. One of those empty folding chairs out there was for her. The her part was historic and completely awesome.
“Good luck,” I said, feeling a surge of pride. I looked out the opening to the gym and saw people already pointing phones toward the doorway. Her entrance would definitely be on ChitChat within minutes after it happened. But neither she nor Luna nor I would see it.
Unless I checked ChitChat later.
Which you won’t, I told myself firmly. Yes, I’d briefly gone on it last night. But then I deleted it again.
Caitlin put her hand on her chest and pushed down hard like she was having a heart attack. “I’m kind of freaking out.”
I rubbed her shoulder. “You can do this.”
“This isn’t about making some kind of statement,” Caitlin said. “I just want to play.”
Milo walked over to Caitlin, head cocked to one side. I tensed up. “You okay?” he asked her.
I had not spoken to Milo since he’d posted the horrible Jameson ChitChat video—the one that had started everything. I wasn’t about to speak to him now. I turned a shoulder toward him, trying to block his unwanted interruption.
Caitlin nodded, refastening her hair back into a low ponytail and tucking the pink strands tightly underneath.
I frowned. Like Milo cared if anyone was okay.
“You’re used to all this,” Caitlin told him, looki
ng out at the noisy crowd.
He shrugged. “Just remember. They are out there because it beats going to class.”
“I’ve just never seen it from this side,” Caitlin said. “I’ve always been one of … them.”
“You … we … still are,” I told her reassuringly. “Luna and I will be up there cheering you on. You’ll definitely hear us screaming when they call out your name.” I gave her another quick hug. “And then we’ll be cheering you on at the game later. Okay?”
She nodded, still looking like she might throw up at any minute. I followed the crowd through the door, giving her one last thumbs-up over my shoulder.
The gym looked like there had been an explosion of green confetti and glitter. Everything was covered—from the top of the bleachers to the folding chairs out on the court. The room was filled with every category of student in the school, from student council members to physics bowl winners. No one missed the pep rally since it was basically mandated by a shortened schedule.
I brushed the hair back from my eyes and searched the crowded bleachers for Luna’s supportive face. I saw Jameson up a few rows on my right. He was sitting with his Discord bandmates, but when he saw me, he quickly turned away, chewing on his lower lip. It was a sign I knew well. It meant he was worried about something. He did it the first time he asked me out, and he did it the first time I saw him play in front of an audience. I never mentioned it because I didn’t want him to be self-conscious. Or maybe I wanted to keep that secret knowledge all to myself.
What is Jameson worried about? More importantly, why should I care?
I hurtled up the bleachers, headed toward Luna, who was waving wildly at me from a third of the way up in the stands. I squeezed into the empty space beside her and crossed my legs, trying to feel a little smaller and a lot more invisible. I waited for my heart to slow.
The scent of roses and patchouli announced Mariah’s arrival like the killer fog I saw one time in a horror movie. She came up the aisles, handing out stacks of bright orange flyers. Her family owned a big farm outside town that featured hayrides, corn mazes, and pick-your-own pumpkins. This year, Mariah’s family farm would be the location for the Fall Festival and everyone was talking about how, if all the stars aligned just right, it would also be the perfect celebratory night for the district football champions.
I saw Isco slide into the bench three rows down. When he turned around to pass the flyers up the aisle, he caught my eye and smiled at me. It made me feel strange. Almost light-headed.
No. No. Absolutely not.
I accepted the flyer from the person sitting next to me, then passed one to Luna. Fall leaves and pumpkins bordered the orange handout. The big block letters in the center read JOIN US AT THE FALL FESTIVAL FOR A HARVEST DANCE AND COOKOUT! FEATURING MUSIC BY DISCORD!
Last year, I went to the Fall Festival with Jameson. It was one of our first dates, but we were already a post-worthy couple. The #Annson feed was full of the two of us cuddling in front of the fire, decorating pumpkins, and posing with scarecrows. There was even a video of us getting hopelessly lost in the corn maze. Jameson laughed at how I screamed at the fake skeleton that fell down on top of us.
I shook my head to clear the memory. That was a long time ago.
“Did you see Cait?” Luna asked, and I started to answer, but Principal Doane interrupted by tapping at the microphone.
“Can I have your attention?” The microphone made Principal Doane’s voice sound authoritative and godlike—in direct contrast to her five-foot height and tiny build. She stretched up on her toes to get her mouth closer and immediately the feedback squeaked loudly, causing everyone to groan and put their hands over their ears in protest. She backed off slightly and cleared her throat, gripping the podium tight with both hands.
“Before we bring the team out, I want to remind everyone about our Fall Festival after next week’s championship game. I know we’re going to be celebrating the big win …” She paused and the crowd cheered. “Our hardworking student council has gone all out this year to put together an amazing party under the stars, so I know you’ll want to get your tickets now.”
Principal Doane started introducing the team, and I stood up, wired and expectant, so we could celebrate Cait’s triumphant entrance. It seemed strange not to be documenting the moment with my phone. Everywhere I looked, phones were out and people were scrolling, posing, and snapping.
And finally there she was. Caitlin ran out onto the court just as Principal Doane announced, “Caitlin Stone!” A roar went up around the gym, and Luna and I screamed and clapped, jumping up and down. There was something thrilling about seeing Caitlin out there for real, not while holding my phone up in front of my face.
Caitlin waved to everyone, beaming. Then she took her seat beside Davis, who squeezed her shoulder. Luna and I sat back down again, catching our breath.
The cheerleaders came out then, led by Ben, to perform the pregame show. Everyone cheered and clapped more, and then we all filed outside to watch the game. I felt a twinge of nervousness for Caitlin, which I soon forgot when Luna spoke to me.
“I want to interview you for my offline story,” Luna said as we climbed the bleachers to take our seats.
I felt like a tree had fallen on my head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Somehow I hadn’t seen this coming.
“Sort of a personal view of how being offline can be healthy. Cool, right?” Luna bounced on her tiptoes, her eyes crinkled by her wide grin.
I sat down on the bench and slid over to make room for Luna. The team warmed up out on the field below, and I could spot Caitlin among them. Should I tell Luna the truth now? About my cheating? Or would it just ruin Caitlin’s big night?
Luna nudged me. “Annie? What do you say?”
I shook my head. “I’m not so sure I’m the best person to interview,” I finally answered.
“Tamar says good reporters use all their resources and you are my inside source,” Luna said earnestly. “People need to hear how you conquered all that negative publicity. It gives others hope.”
But I’m a liar.
My heart was slamming. Crashing. I should tell her. Now. But I stayed silent until the feeling passed and my breathing slowed back to a somewhat normal rate. I took a deep breath in and out again. It was going to be okay because I would stop, I told myself. Last night was my last time on ChitChat.
“Yeah,” I finally said. “Sounds great.”
Luna gave a satisfied little sigh. “Perfect. Thanks, Annie. We can set up a time for the interview next week.”
I looked out onto the field, desperate to change the subject. “The game’s about to start.”
Caitlin swiveled around on the bench and spotted me and Luna in the stands. We stood and gave her four big thumbs-up, cheering loudly. She waved back and then faced the field again.
The game was going great. Davis threw two fantastic passes and Milo scored two touchdowns. I scowled at Milo’s victories, even though I knew it was good for the team—and therefore good for Caitlin and her dad. Luna and I held our breath each time Caitlin’s dad waved out the kicker for the extra point, even though it always ended up being Eli Vernon, not Caitlin.
By the third quarter, our team was ahead by four touchdowns. The excitement grew as the score climbed. I found myself more gripped by football than I had ever been before. The cheerleaders practiced their harder stunts, and band members played faster. I knew, from what Caitlin had told me and Luna, that the only hope for her to get into the game was if we got far enough ahead that the second string would be allowed to play. Even then, we didn’t know if her dad would actually put Caitlin in the game.
At the beginning of the third quarter, the second-string quarterback, Mike Jackson, ran out on the field, fresh and excited to finally get his big break. Within minutes, Mike ran the ball in for another touchdown. Everyone cheered while the opposing team booed. I saw Caitlin look hopefully at her dad and grip her helmet tightly. My heart went out to her. There was still a ch
ance.
Suddenly, Coach Stone turned, his eyes scanning the people on the sideline until he found Caitlin. He waved her over. This was it. She was going in. She pulled her helmet on over her ponytail and ran out onto the field to huddle.
The teams lined up across from each other, and I waited along with everyone else in the stands for the snap. It was like we were all holding our breaths together. Then Caitlin’s foot connected, sending the ball sailing through the goalposts.
“Good.” The referees held up their arms, Luna and I screamed with joy, and the team raced to congratulate Caitlin on her history-making kick.
Friends … they cherish one another’s hopes. They are kind to one another’s dreams.
—Henry David Thoreau
Immediately after the game, Luna and I headed for the girls’ locker room to find Caitlin and congratulate her. Her one kick had garnered the team an extra precious point. That had been her only moment on the field, but I knew Caitlin was thrilled. And thanks to Milo scoring another touchdown, our team had won the game. On the way to the locker room, Luna bumped into Tamar, who wanted to chat with her about newspaper stuff, so I went to meet Caitlin on my own. Then I stopped.
Milo stood outside the girls’ locker room as if he was waiting for someone. He was freshly showered and wore an oversized Denver Broncos jersey and blue jeans. I wanted to turn around and leave, but no—I wanted to be there for Caitlin more than I wanted to avoid Milo. Besides, I’d promised Caitlin we would celebrate after the game with a movie night at my house. I was even going to let her choose the movie.
“Your girl did great tonight,” Milo said when he saw me. He held up his phone. “How about I document it for ChitChat and take a picture of the two of you when Caitlin gets out?”
I shook my head emphatically, putting my hands up in front of my face. “Stop it, Milo. That’s not funny.”
“Sorry.” He slid the phone into his back pocket. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Honestly.”
