I had a hunch that my fellow classmates took their sweet time finishing their articles to avoid being reassigned another job, like I had, if they finished early. Much to my dismay, I had been reassigned to help with the page layout, which had been my original assignment.
“No good deed goes unpunished,” Tegan commented when I came to sit with her and the rest of the page layout team, which consisted of people who weren’t writing an article for that particular month.
In the days before we sold the newspaper, there was a rush to get things set up for printing as articles were completed, approved and turned in. The page layout team had spent the majority of the month creating templates for all of the articles, and, in theory, we should have been able to insert articles into their pre-determined slots, but some articles were much longer or shorter than anticipated.
“Next month we’ll be working under a word limit,” Mr. Hensley promised. I suspected we’d be getting a long lesson on that once this paper was finished and before we started the next.
Once all of the page layout kinks had been worked out, Mr. Hensley had taken things to be printed up. Then the next couple of classes were spent putting the paper together.
It was a lot of busy work, but things went smoother with the second edition than they had with the first. There were no pages out of order—as far as I knew, anyway—or a shortage of some of the pages. By the end of classes on Friday, we all breathed a sigh of relief, and then on Monday, the sixth of November, the newspaper went on sale during lunch. Everyone in the Journalism class got a free copy, but they were sold for a dollar to everyone else. By the end of the day, all four hundred copies we’d spent two days assembling had been sold.
Even though both Annabelle and Mr. Hensley had been extremely pleased with my article and Tegan reassured me countless times, I was incredibly nervous as soon as we began selling the papers. I wasn’t sure what other people would think of my article, assuming they bothered to read it at all. After discussing things with Annabelle and Mr. Hensley at length, I wound up doing a comparative review of C.S. Lewis’ novel The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and the 2005 film The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
In the end, though, most of the feedback was positive. However, I did overhear Mark Moses reading my review out loud in the hallways after lunch.
“Though the movie is based upon C.S. Lewis’ 1950 novel The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and is relatively faithful to the book, there are some obvious differences between book and film,” he sneered, his tone mocking.
I’d anticipated something of the like and managed to steer clear of him and tried not to let it bother me too much. It was a slight comfort that no one else really paid him much mind either. Honestly, I was mostly just surprised to discover he actually could read.
I was excited to show Mom my article when I got home. I’d mentioned it to her back when Annabelle first asked me to do the review, and she’d helped me piece some of it together. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was one of the first books I could clearly remember Mom reading to me, so she knew the material pretty well though she wasn’t quite as familiar with the film.
Also, oddly enough, Mom had mentioned once while helping with the article that her teaching major had been English. I found this incredibly ironic since my grammar was usually atrocious enough to make Mom faint. Without Tierney’s continual help with my essays and the luxury of spell check, Miss Barkley would still be making my papers bleed.
But Mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway. I assumed she was still at work and hoped that her first day had gone well. I considered asking Skylar if she’d read my article, but she was busy getting ready for work.
She worked at a shop in the strip mall a few miles away called Sound of Music. They mostly sold or rented instruments to kids in band, and they also had other music equipment. It wasn’t originally Skylar’s ideal job. She wanted someplace where they sold CDs and band t-shirts, like Hot Topic, Sam Goody or FYE, but none of those places were hiring. She started working there at sixteen. She was called in for an interview at Sound of Music within a day of turning in her application and was hired on the spot.
Aside from being made to wear a uniform, and being asked to tone down her make-up and piercings, she never really complained about it much, which for Skylar probably meant she liked it at least a little.
After Skylar left, the house was unusually quiet. Luke hadn’t come home after school. He probably either had to work or was out with friends. Dad wouldn’t be home for at least another hour, and I had no idea when to expect Mom.
I’d been home alone before, of course, but without Mom there to greet me when I came home from school, I realized how much I’d come to rely on her always being there. Even though I supported her job, I realized for the first time that Dad and my siblings weren’t the only ones who would need time to adjust to the changes.
I didn’t think Mom would be at work too late, but I was also sure she’d probably have things she’d have to do around the classroom. She’d have lessons to prepare and probably staff meetings too. I didn’t know for sure, but I figured that it could probably be kind of time consuming.
I tried to amuse myself with mindless television, but it felt too weird trying to find something to watch when this was usually when Mom would watch Dr. Phil. Turning off the television, I decided to go up to my room and get online.
My computer was a hand me down. It used to belong to my parents, but they got a new one together last Christmas instead of buying gifts for one another. Luke got a laptop for his sixteenth birthday from our parents, who bought it on sale. It was much nicer than my rickety, old desktop, and it reminded me that Mom still hadn’t taken me shopping for my birthday presents. Unfortunately, I didn’t think I could convince her to get my laptop as well.
Before school started, I overheard my parents talking about getting Skylar a laptop as a graduation gift before she went away for college because she didn’t have a computer of her own. She usually used mine—without permission—and sometimes she could coerce Luke into letting her use his laptop, which was a major feat because sometimes I thought Luke liked Skylar even less than he liked me.
Once my computer was booted up, I clicked on the Mozilla Firefox icon. Tegan had convinced me to try it, and I hadn’t been able to stand looking at Internet Explorer ever since.
I hadn’t checked my e-mail in a couple of days, so I did that first. I had Gmail courtesy of an invite from Tegan, and there was some spam that had managed to evade the filter. I marked them as spam, and that left me with a friend request for MySpace and a message from Facebook, which I had just joined a couple of weeks earlier after it opened to the public.
I scanned the one from Facebook, but it didn’t seem to be anything important. I deleted it and looked at the MySpace friend request. As usual, it was just a band or artist requesting to be added to my friend list. I clicked on the link to check it out and waited for the music to start to play.
When it started, I listened for only a moment before I scrunched up my nose at the sound. Singing hardly seemed like the appropriate description. Screeching seemed to fit better. Quickly, I clicked on the back button and denied the friend request. No, thank you, Joanna Newsom. Keep your song “Three Little Babes” and the rest of your music to yourself. Please.
Normally, I wasn’t so quick to judge. I was willing to listen, like the character Owen Armstrong in Sarah Dessen’s novel Just Listen said, but I thought this was a case all of its own, and I wasn’t interested in being enlightened by this particular artist.
Since I was bored, I decided to take a look around MySpace. Again, it was something Tegan insisted I partake in. She was way into all of the latest Internet trends. I was still trying to figure out why I needed Facebook when I already had MySpace and, as far as I could see, they essentially served the same purpose.
Regardless, I joined at Tegan’s insistence, “It’s going to be the next big thing. Just wait.”
As for MySpace, I let her set up that account and make me a pretty layout. I glanced over the informational stuff I’d filled out, and it looked pretty boring and basic. I considered adding to it, but I couldn’t think of anything new or clever to add.
I didn’t have many friends either. Most of them were music related, but I did have Tegan and Tierney along with a few people from school. I’d found Luke and Skylar’s profiles and added them. Sometimes I snooped, but neither of them ever had anything very interesting to say. Then again, neither did I.
Curiosity, due to boredom, got the better of me, and I decided to see if I could find Jackson on MySpace. I figured I’d have to be sly and troll Skylar or Luke’s friend list to find his profile, but, first, I typed “Jackson Hart” in the search field. That produced forty-eight results, but, surprisingly, the Jackson Hart I was looking for showed up at the top of the list. I recognized the big grin, raven hair and hazel eyes in the profile photo right away.
I clicked on his name and scanned his profile, looking at his different interests. I was surprised to find he’d listed a lot of the same bands and books as me. After a look through his photos, which there weren’t many of, I went back to his profile page and clicked on the “Add to Friends” link.
I figured he probably wouldn’t see the request until later, so I closed out the MySpace tab and went back to my e-mail to delete the friend request and empty my spam folder.
I hated spam, both the e-mail and the food. They were both gross and annoying, or at least spam—the food—smelled annoying. The e-mail was gross because most of it was trying to solicit me into some dirty act.
I wasn’t sure about most other fifteen-year-old girls, but, while I was curious about sex, porn wasn’t exactly my thing. I probably could have forwarded the spam to Luke because I was sure it would have been right up his alley, but that would have been way too awkward.
It was bad enough that the one time I had to use his laptop, before I inherited the desktop, I kept getting porn pop-ups. Needless to say, I finished what I was doing and got away from his laptop as quickly as possible. Then I wanted to bleach my eyeballs to rid myself of all of the images of naked women I saw. It was very scarring and traumatic to my virgin eyes.
While I was deleting the spam, I got a new e-mail. The subject said, “New message from Jackson on MySpace.”
I stared at it for a minute, and I swore my heart stopped beating. I hadn’t expected Jackson to be online, and even if I had, the last thing I would have anticipated was a message from him. Curious, nervous and a whole lot giddy, I opened the e-mail and followed the link.
At MySpace, I opened the message, and it read:
Hey Silly,
I saw your friend request and thought I’d say hi. So, hi! What’s up? I haven’t seen you around lately.
Jackson
Even though it was a really casual message, I couldn’t resist biting my lip to fight away the goofy smile that was trying to pull at the corners of my mouth. I clicked on the reply button, and then sat back and twirled my hair around my finger as I tried to figure out what to say.
After only a minute, I sat up and began typing.
Hey Jackson,
Things have been kind of weird around here. Nothing major. My mom just started a new job. I guess that sort of caused an upset with the rest of the family. Other than that, not much is new.
My review was in the newspaper today. Did you see? If not, you probably didn’t miss much but I did steal your idea and wrote about The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
Anyway, how have you been? How is your shoe? I’m really sorry about that! Apparently, I’m a lightweight. Who knew?
Silly
I hit send and sat back to wait. According to the little icon on MySpace, Jackson was still on the site. I wasn’t sure if he’d reply or not, but after only a few minutes, another new message showed up from Jackson.
You’re a lightweight? You’re kidding, right? ;)
Don’t worry about the shoe. It survived Puke Fest ‘06. Those old chucks have been through plenty of drunken incidents. How about you? Did you get in trouble when you got home? You were pretty drunk when you left the party. I still haven’t heard who spiked the punch. Have you?
I did see your review. It was so awesome that it’s okay you stole my idea. Need any ideas for the next one?
As for me, I’m good. This is my first night off from work in a week. Freedom! So I’m just surfin’ the web and relaxing. Did you know there’s absolutely nothing on TV on Monday night?
Jackson
I grinned, thrilled that he’d written back and that it was more than just a couple of sentences. He’d even asked questions, which I could only assume he expected to be answered. I had no problem obliging. I hit the reply button and started typing.
I know! I couldn’t find anything to watch either. Except for Medium, but that’s not on until late. Wednesday’s my favorite night to watch TV. Do you watch Lost? I love it. It’s so addicting.
I haven’t heard who spiked the punch either, but I’d like to give them a nice kick in the shins. I didn’t get in trouble because my mom was asleep and my dad wasn’t paying attention, but Luke had to carry me upstairs. I had my first and, most likely, last hangover. It was horrible.
I don’t know if I’ll be writing another review, or if they’re going to switch up the format for next month’s newspaper, but I’m happy to hear your recommendations. By the way, I finished An Abundance of Katherines. It was awesome. I think I have another favorite author thanks to you.
So where do you work?
I hit send and anxiously awaited a reply. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was going on four. My mom still wasn’t home. I wondered how her first day of work went. I hoped it had gone well, but I thought it was probably hard on her. After all, she’d spent the last eighteen years at home taking care of kids and running a household, but if she could handle doing that, then she could probably handle just about anything.
My wonderings about Mom left my mind when I got another message from Jackson. I clicked on the link and read.
I haven’t watched Lost, but my brothers are obsessed. I almost always work on Wednesday, so I usually miss it. I thought it looked like a cool show back when they were showing previews.
Let me think about it, and I’ll give you some more book recommendations. I’m glad you liked Katherines. Of the two, Alaska is probably my favorite. It’s good to have someone to talk to about books. Most of my friends think reading is a waste of time when video games could be played. Not that video games aren’t awesome, of course.
I work at the theater in the mall. I usually work the concession stand. Sometimes I sell tickets. It’s not a bad job. I started there last year. Then I was gone during part of the summer, but they let me have my job back when school started again.
Do you have AIM?
My heart seemed to swell in my chest as giddiness overtook my entire body and I bounced anxiously in my seat. If Jackson was asking if I had AOL Instant Messenger, then it was only natural to assume that he wanted to talk to me. Right? At least that was the conclusion I came to, and I was completely cool with that.
Yep, I have AIM. My screen name is thesillywallflower. It must be fun working in a theater. Do you get to see all of the movies for free?
I hit the send button and signed onto AIM just for good measure. Then I pulled up iTunes because I needed music. The stillness of the house was getting to me. I put it on shuffle and hit the play button. A second later “Telescope Eyes” by Eisley started playing. They were one of my favorite bands. I saw an article about them in a magazine and decided to look them up on the Internet. I liked what I heard, so I begged Mom for their Room Noises album.
The minute I got it home I popped it into my CD player and lay back on my bed to listen. I’d immediately fallen in love. When I told Tegan about the band, she asked me to describe them. Much like people when it came to art, I didn’t know much about music aside from what I liked, an
d Eisley had a sound of its own. It was a mix of indie, folk and pop that came together to form beautiful songs consisting of melodic vocals and whimsical lyrics.
I was anxious for their next album, but I had no idea when it would be out. They had a few new songs up online, but the connection was too slow for streaming it. What I had heard, though, sounded great, but I generally liked to listen to songs on the albums first from start to finish, so I could hear them the way they were supposed to be heard.
I sang along with the song as I tied my hair back in a ponytail. I was expecting another MySpace message from Jackson, but instead a message box popped up from AIM asking if I’d like to accept a message from jackyourhart.
Heart pounding, I hit the option to accept the message.
jackyourhart: Hi! It’s Jackson.
thesillywallflower: I kind of guessed that.
jackyourhart: Really? What gave it away? ;)
thesillywallflower: I think it was the misspelling of heart in conjunction with the word jack.
jackyourhart: Oh, aren’t we smart with the big words?
thesillywallflower: Shut up.
jackyourhart: Very mature.
thesillywallflower: I think I am.
jackyourhart: I’m sure you do. So, what’s up?
thesillywallflower: Not much, really. How about you?
jackyourhart : Same here.
Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 12
