by Alex Miles
Hamsa felt like she’d been punched in the guts, but before she had time to deny it, Zoe laughed.
‘Jokes, Hamsa! We’re just joking. I hope us “borrowing” your Hackathon idea didn’t land you in too much trouble. Why don’t we call it even for you lying to us about soccer training and hanging out with the others?’
‘Sure,’ said Hamsa, confused. She wasn’t expecting them to clear things up so quickly.
The foyer was modern-looking with huge brightly coloured canvases hanging from the side walls, and a cool polished concrete floor leading to the staircase at the back.
‘This is us,’ said Mum, when they reached the first floor. She took the class through a set of wide glass doors with a sign saying ‘Jobs Room’.
‘Why are we doing jobs?’ asked Ayla. ‘I thought we came here to do our startups, not work for you.’
Mum laughed. ‘It’s confusing, isn’t it? But this is a meeting room, not a “jobs” room. We have a few of them here, all different sizes and all named after various leaders in tech.’
‘Like Steve Jobs?’ asked Ezra.
‘Spot-on,’ said Mum. ‘And Ada Lovelace, Bill Gates and Arlan Hamilton.’
‘Who’s Ada Lovelace?’ asked Katherine.
Niki scoffed. ‘Only one of the world’s first computer programmers. No big deal.’
It was a tight squeeze, but the class gathered around the large table, trying to avoid the temptation to adjust their wheelie-chairs up and down.
‘Thank you, Anika,’ said Ms Atlas, getting the class’s attention. ‘We feel so lucky to join you today.’
‘I feel so lucky to have you!’ said Mum. ‘This workplace is called a co-working space. One of the best things about co-working is that your workmates might be different every day. You’ll be sitting among other workers here, so it’s important that you all respect each other.’
‘Does that mean no wheelie-chair races down the corridor?’ asked Richard with a wry smile.
‘Correct,’ said Anika. ‘But I did do those at my previous office.’
‘I’d win for sure,’ said Niki, swiping her foot along the carpet like she was ready to skate.
‘Any questions before we get started?’ said Ms Atlas.
Hands shot up across the room. Once Anika and Ms Atlas had explained where the loos were, how the wi-fi worked and, importantly, set a limit on the number of choc-chip biscuits the students could each take from the communal kitchen, they were on their way.
As they walked along the corridor, Hamsa stayed close to Zoe, dreading the fact that they’d be in their teams soon. They passed the Lovelace and Gates rooms and stepped into an open-plan space. It had a high ceiling with pendant lights hanging low. Desks of all different sizes were dotted across the room.
‘Howdy.’ A woman looked up from her laptop and took off her headphones.
‘Hey, Natalie,’ said Mum as she passed. ‘Our next generation of entrepreneurs have arrived.’
‘Have fun! I’ll catch you later,’ said Natalie, returning to work.
‘Who’s that?’ asked Hamsa.
‘One of my mates. She’s working on a new cybersecurity software to protect top-secret information.’
Niki’s ears pricked up. ‘Sweet.’
When Eve, Maggie and Niki took their place at an oval-shaped desk, Hamsa braced herself and joined them. No one said a thing as they plugged their devices into power and hooked up to the wi-fi.
‘I’ll get our to-do list up so we can get started,’ said Hamsa, eventually breaking the silence. After all, it was the hustler’s job to keep the team on track.
Niki flashed her an angry look which seemed consistent with the slogan on her grey t-shirt: ‘I can’t make everyone happy. I’m not Avocado.’ She slung on her headphones and sank down into her seat, consuming herself with the lines of code in front of her.
Maggie pulled some headphones from her bag too. They were similar to Niki’s but had a handmade cover, with rainbow colours across the middle and white fluffy clouds over the ears.
‘Cute,’ said Eve, admiring Maggie’s handiwork.
‘I can make you some if you like,’ said Maggie.
When Hamsa saw Eve reach for her own headphones, it was the last straw.
‘Come on, we can’t all listen to music. What’s the point of working together if none of us chat?’ pleaded Hamsa.
‘Not that I know from experience,’ said Eve, ‘but Niki said music helps her get in the zone when she’s coding.’
‘I’ve found it helpful too,’ said Maggie, ‘although we have very different music taste.’
‘At least let me do the WIP before we start,’ said Hamsa.
The others waited while Hamsa pulled out the to-do list from her book to check their ‘work in progress’. Eve nudged Niki, who begrudgingly took off her headphones and folded her arms in front of herself.
‘So,’ said Hamsa, unsure where to start. ‘Niki, how’d you go with the security testing?’
‘Fine,’ said Niki shortly.
‘Ummm …’ Hamsa tried to work out whether she should mark the testing as complete. ‘Can you give me some more info?’
‘I fixed a bug to stop people hacking into each other’s accounts and prevented some SQL injection from dropping the database table.’
‘In English, please.’ Hamsa glared at Niki. She could tell Niki was deliberately trying to make this hard.
‘What’s the point?’ said Niki, slamming her laptop screen shut. ‘After everything that’s happened, I don’t even know why we should bother.’
‘We can’t just stop,’ said Eve. ‘I’ve never failed an assignment and we can’t stand in front of the whole school, and our parents, and have nothing to show next week.’
‘Eve’s right,’ said Hamsa. ‘I know the other plastic app is a hiccup, but let’s turn this challenge on its head. We’ll make our app even better!’
Niki scoffed. ‘You can’t spin your way out of this.’
‘I’m so, so sorry,’ said Hamsa. ‘I had no idea Zoe’s group would take our idea. I spoke to Zoe – they’re all sorry too.’
‘Really? They said that?’ asked Eve.
Hamsa thought back to when they were in the foyer, realising Zoe hadn’t actually apologised at all.
She quickly changed the subject. ‘We could “pivot”. Mum told me about it – it’s when a startup changes direction and their product or app becomes something they didn’t see coming. In fact, did you know that Twitter started life as a podcasting platform?’
‘Really?’ said Maggie.
Hamsa nodded. ‘And look at it now. Maybe we can take PlasTICK and find a different end user. Or maybe we track paper usage instead of plastic.’
‘PaperTICK doesn’t have the same ring to it,’ said Niki.
It took all of Hamsa’s energy not to lose her cool. ‘Forget pivoting then. We could do something new.’ Hamsa flicked to the back of her book, where she wrote all her ideas. ‘Just this morning I thought of one that –’
‘No way are we starting over,’ said Niki.
Eve agreed. ‘There’s not enough time.’
‘Then what do we do?’ asked Hamsa.
Niki looked at her coolly. ‘You can stop interrupting so we can finish this stupid thing. The sooner it’s over, and we never have to work together again, the better.’
Hamsa held her tummy, feeling another huge whack. It hadn’t crossed her mind that they may never hang out together again. As the group returned to work in silence, she hated the thought more and more.
After what felt like forever, everyone met back in the Jobs Room. Hamsa walked through the door with the rest of her class and saw her mum and Ms Atlas standing up the front.
‘Before we break for lunch, let me introduce our mentors Sam, Jaydev and Natalie,’ said Mum, pointing to her colleagues at the back of the room. They each waved. ‘These guys and girls are all experts in their fields, and after lunch you can pick their brains about anything and everything.’
/> ‘Lucky ducks,’ said Ms Atlas. ‘And in even more exciting news, your mentors and Anika have just offered a prize for the Hackathon!’
Mum clapped her hands excitedly. ‘The winning team will have the opportunity to join our incubator!’
‘What?’ asked Michelle, tapping her brightly coloured nails on the table. ‘My cousins have one of them on their farm. But it’s for chickens, right?’
‘Different type of incubator,’ chuckled Jaydev. ‘A business incubator is where you get support to take your idea to the next level.’
‘Who knows,’ said Ms Atlas. ‘Maybe one of your startups will become the next Facebook after all! In the meantime, though, learn as much as you can from our great mentors. You can ask about strategy, design, building, pitching –’
Mum tried to cover a laugh. ‘Sorry, I was telling Hamsa last night, I blew it the first time I pitched.’
‘Mum don’t,’ cried Hamsa. ‘It’s embarrassing.’
Ignoring her, Mum recounted the story, pointing towards the server room down the corridor and how she narrowly missed a pee explosion.
Hamsa covered her eyes with her hands, but when she heard laughter on either side of her, she peeked out between her fingers. Across the room, her friends were clearly unimpressed by the embarrassing story, but sitting right next to her, Eve, Maggie and Niki were laughing. Hamsa took her hands away from her face. It felt good being able to see the funny side.
Lunch was served in the communal kitchen. Everyone grabbed a plate and filled it with sandwiches, wraps and fruit.
Zoe glanced at the tables and huffed. ‘You have one job, Hamsa.’
‘What?’ asked Hamsa, confused.
‘Look, all the seats are gone. I guess we can stand around the kitchen bench instead. Come on.’
Zoe headed towards the far end of the island bench. Hamsa’s feet felt heavy, like they were locked to the floor. Now that she thought of it, it was always her that saved seats for her friends.
Hamsa looked down at her full plate of food, suddenly losing her appetite. She placed her plate on the bench and retreated to the bathrooms, locking herself in one of the cubicles. She was trying hard not to let her emotions get the better of her, but it wasn’t easy. All she wanted to do was reboot and wipe the last few days.
She watched the minutes tick by on her watch. All too soon, the lunchbreak was over. She reluctantly unlocked her cubical and went to the basin when Maggie walked in.
‘Oh,’ said Maggie, surprised to see Hamsa. ‘Just coming to wash my hands.’
Hamsa managed a smile but felt too ashamed to look at Maggie. She walked to the door in silence.
Hamsa was nearly out of the bathroom when Maggie spoke up.
‘You know, it wasn’t that you told Zoe about our startup idea that made us angry. It’s that you’re embarrassed to be seen with us.’
Hamsa couldn’t look at Maggie. ‘It’s hard.
I can’t just change groups.’
‘But you should be allowed to do the things you think are fun,’ said Maggie. ‘Maybe you were too busy worrying what Zoe would think to notice, but we really like you, Hamsa. The real you – unicorns, pointless stories and all.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Hamsa in a small voice. ‘I wish things were different.’
Maggie walked over and held Hamsa’s hand. ‘It’ll work out with the Hackathon.’
Hamsa nodded, but that was the last thing she cared about.
‘Who knows,’ said Maggie, giving Hamsa’s hand a little squeeze. ‘Maybe you’re the one that needs to pivot. Like your mum said, change direction. Maybe it works on people too.’ Maggie smiled and let go of Hamsa’s hand. ‘Anyway, we’ll be starting again soon.’
Maggie walked down the corridor, leaving Hamsa alone with her thoughts.
Is Maggie right? Maybe it’s time to put Hamsa 2.0 into development.
Hamsa stood on the school oval the next morning, shuffling her cue cards in her hands. She’d had a wave of inspiration the night before and prepared an entire presentation. But Hamsa wasn’t about to pitch PlasTICK for the Hackathon. No, this was a different pitch. A far more important one.
‘Thanks for agreeing to meet me,’ said Hamsa as Maggie, Eve and Niki joined her.
‘I’m surprised you chose this spot,’ said Niki, looking around the oval. ‘I thought vampires and Hamsas couldn’t be seen with geeks like us in daylight.’
‘Bats don’t like daylight either, but that’s beside the point,’ said Hamsa, in a nervous attempt at a joke. ‘I really am glad you came. Shall we get started?’ She gestured for them to take a seat on the grass and they did so, forming a circle. Hamsa joined them, then decided to stand, then changed her mind and sat, stood again, and finally resolved to kneel – she wanted more than anything to get this right. ‘Sorry. Just a little antsy.’
She took a deep breath and looked across to Eve, Niki and Maggie. She had their attention. It was now or never.
‘Sometimes – in life or in business – the situation calls for a pivot,’ Hamsa began. Maggie smiled, giving her the confidence to go on. ‘Sometimes, though, it calls for a total overhaul. I realised that, while plastic pollution is a very worthy problem to tackle, there’s another problem that’s been right under our noses … Introducing a revolutionary new piece of tech that I think you’re going to love. Eve – you in particular.’ Hamsa flipped across to the next cue card and unveiled the sketches in her notebook. ‘I call it … Feels Like Home.’
The girls stayed silent as they took it in.
‘Feels Like Home does exactly that. It makes the user feel at home in whatever new surroundings they find themselves in. Maybe you’re at a new school. Maybe you’ve moved cities. Maybe you’ve packed up your entire life and crossed the globe.’ Hamsa winked at Eve. ‘Either way, Feels Like Home helps you settle in, and fast.’
She turned the page, revealing a poorly drawn wireframe. The girls leant in for a closer look.
‘How’s it work, you ask?’ said Hamsa, pointing to each box of the wireframe as she walked them through it. ‘From the dashboard, the user enters the location they used to live in, their new location and a couple of interests. Click “search” and it gives them a full list of the equivalent things in their new city.’
‘So I could find out where all the best skate parks are?’ asked Niki.
‘Yep. Or you could check who makes the best hot chocolates, or where the off-lead dog parks are. I’ve done the validation process already and I reckon we’re on to a winner.’
‘We should add a map to the dashboard, though,’ said Eve. ‘So that you can see all the pins near you. Maybe with different colours or icons for different interests?’
‘Of course! My wireframes are terrible. I knew I’d need your design eye, Eve,’ said Hamsa.
‘What about a photo gallery too?’ said Maggie. ‘Keep your favourite memories from your old town in one place. Then you can add new memories as your new home starts to feel more like … home.’
Hamsa grinned. ‘Love it.’
As the girls brainstormed, Hamsa scribbled down notes, careful not to miss any of their great ideas. Then, when the momentum slowed, she sat back and looked at the girls.
‘Whatdoya say?’ said Hamsa, her eyes wide with hope. ‘I messed up big time. I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings and I want more than anything for us to work together on this. And I mean really work together, not just go through the motions. I get that it’s a big ask – we’re presenting our startups in five days! But if anyone can do it, we can.’
Hamsa looked from Eve to Maggie to Niki and back again.
‘C’mon, the suspense is killing me,’ said Hamsa, nervously.
‘It’s a sweet idea,’ said Niki. ‘Our best yet. I’m in.’
‘Me too,’ said Maggie.
‘Eve?’ asked Hamsa.
‘Sorry,’ said Eve. She seemed a little choked up. ‘It’s just … no one has ever made me something so thoughtful before. You’re a good friend, Hamsa,
for going to all this effort so that I feel happy here. I love the idea. And of course I want us to make it!’
‘YAY!’ squealed Hamsa. She didn’t even care if the kids playing handball across the oval heard her.
‘I’ve already got an idea for the app icon,’ said Eve.
‘And I’ll hack the heck out of it,’ added Niki. ‘We’ll have a prototype ready in no time – an amazing, top-quality, fully-responsive app.’
‘You BETA believe it,’ said Hamsa, looking around the circle to see if they got her joke.
Niki rolled her eyes. ‘So now you’re using tech references in your dad jokes?’ She groaned loudly as the girls laughed. ‘New rule – no more dad jokes!’
‘But I’m the best at dad jokes,’ pleaded Hamsa, quickly falling back into their comfortable banter.
‘Whatever, I’ll be too busy over the next five days to notice.’
‘So …’ said Maggie, with a twinkle in her eye. ‘When can we get started?’
In the light-filled library the next morning, four friends sat with their heads buried in their devices. As the clock on the wall ticked closer towards school time, fingers tapped at pace on keyboards, papers shuffled as Hamsa read through her cue cards, Niki hummed along to the music in her headphones and Eve nervously bounced her foot against the metal chair leg, offering eleventh-hour design suggestions to Maggie. It was like they’d created their very own soundtrack, and the song was called ‘Oh gosh, we’re on deadline!’
Their tune was interrupted when music belted out across the speakers, signalling the start of class. Hamsa groaned, but no one looked up from their screens, maximising those last precious moments.
Hamsa stared at her first cue card. BREATHE was written in purple, sparkly marker across the top, which was a little trick her mum had shown her.
Hamsa closed her eyes and let the music fill her ears. She breathed in. And out.
She inhaled again, relieved that this was actually working to calm her nerves. Until …
‘Ommmmm,’ hummed Niki.
Hamsa opened her eyes to see Niki cross-legged on her seat, her hands outstretched like a yoga instructor, balancing her pencil case on her head.
