Snapstreak

by Suzanne Weyn

  Heather May beams her wide TV smile on us and her perfect teeth shine. “Is this the SAP room?” she asks, was told to report here.”

  “Why, are you being punished?” Vee asks.

  Heather May laughs and steps farther into the room. Pulling off her wet trench, she sits in a desk and brushes back her damp blond hair with her perfectly manicured fingers. “I need to interview some real-life teens,” she tells us, “so I phoned the school and asked if I could come down. Your principal didn’t want me to disturb classes but said I could interview anyone who was in the SAP room.”

  “Oh, sure,” I say. “It’s okay to disturb us, as if we don’t matter.” I’m not truly offended, but it’s the principle of the thing.

  “You’re under no obligation to talk to me,” Heather May says.

  “Don’t mind her. Will we be on TV?” Vee asks.

  “My cameraperson will be joining us in a moment if that’s all right. Anyone who doesn’t want to be on camera needn’t be.”

  “I don’t needn’t,” I say, immediately feeling foolish. “I mean, there’s no reason why I can’t be on camera.” Who doesn’t want to be on TV?! You’re practically not even real unless you’ve been on TV. (Okay, that might be a little extreme. I admit it. Still, being on camera viewed by lots of people means you really exist. Maybe that’s why they call it reality TV. I don’t know. Maybe not. I’m still working on this theory. Anyway, I was excited about maybe appearing on TV.)

  Ms. Pate appears at the SAP room door with our phones in her hands. She puts them on the teacher’s desk. “They said in the office that you might need these,” she says.

  “Awesome!” Megan cries, grabbing her phone from the desk. “Thanks!”

  “Keep that turned off and in your locker,” Ms. Pate says as she leaves.

  “My special report is going to be on the effect of social media on today’s teens,” Heather May tells us.

  My mom is always watching the part of Channel 14 News where it says, “Heather May with a special report.” She’s going to flip when she sees me on TV.

  A woman dressed all in black with long dark hair in a braid enters the SAP room. She mounts a camera on a tripod and looks through it. “I need you girls to cluster around Heather. Squeeze in tight so I can get you all in the shot.”

  This is really happening!

  After taking the shot, we all sit back down in a semi-circle around Heather May. She asks us a lot of questions about how we use social media: how often; which apps; how many hours a day. “Is a product more appealing to you if a lot of people like it?” she asks.

  “Hmm . . . I never thought of that,” Vee says. The way she says it makes me laugh. She tilts her head and puts her finger up to her chin. Very actor-like. “I don’t think so,” Vee continues. “I’m very much my own person and not affected by my peers.”

  It’s too much! I let out a loud HA.

  “What?” Vee asks, scowling at me. “It’s true!”

  “You don’t care what a certain Gwynneth thinks of you?” I say.

  A look of panic comes onto Vee’s face. “Is this going to be on TV?”

  “I stopped the camera,” the woman in black says.

  “Good,” Vee says. “You know, if I’m going to be on TV I should get my new sneakers.” She looks to the teacher. “Can I go to my locker for a sec?”

  The teacher says it’s fine. While Vee is gone, Megan and I tell Heather May how much we love Snapchat and how it’s our main app for communicating. We show her some of the funny filters: the one where our faces collapse; my favorite, where a person seems to spit up the ocean; the one where your face turns into a dog. She cracked up! When Vee returns a few minutes later all of us, even the teacher, are laughing really hard.

  “Have any of you ever been involved in a Snapstreak?” Heather May asks us as the camerawoman clicks on the video once more. “It came up in my research.”

  “Not intentionally,” Megan says. “But we Snap each other so much that sometimes it just sort of happens. That little fire icon pops up and the number next to it tells you how many days you’ve been Snapping back and forth without a break.”

  “I’ve seen that,” I say. “When the hourglass icon pops up, it means that you have only four hours left before twenty-four hours is up. If you go more than twenty-four hours between Snaps, you’ve broken the Snapstreak.”

  “If you did pay attention—you know, focus on it—do you think you could keep a streak going?” Heather May asks.

  We look at each other with questioning eyes. Could we? “I guess,” Megan says. “I don’t think it would be all that hard. You have twenty-four hours to do it.”

  “Sometimes I run out of battery,” I add.

  “Do you mean you’re not always paying attention to your phone?” Heather May asks.

  Again we look at each other uncertainly. “Not aaalwaays,” I say. “We have to sleep. And you can’t really take it into the shower unless you have a waterproof case.”

  “I have a waterproof case,” Megan says. “It’s pretty hard to use with wet hands, but you could just read it and not type.”

  “So are you girls saying that you’re always aware of your phones except when you’re sleeping?” Heather May asks.

  “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t fall back to sleep,” Vee says. “I check my phone then.”

  “Maybe that’s why you can’t get back to sleep,” Heather May says.

  “You might be right,” Vee says. “I want to go back to sleep but I’m curious to see if someone’s posted on Instagram or sent me a message or a Snap.”

  “So you’d say social media interferes with your sleep?” Heather May asks.

  “I guess it does,” Vee replies.

  “Does it interfere with schoolwork?”

  This time the three of us look at each other because we realize this is a tricky question. The quickest way to ensure that our parents will take away our phones is to admit—on TV—that we are paying more attention to our phones than to our schoolwork. We’re not falling for that! “Oh nooooooooo,” I say. “School comes before phone.”

  “Yes, it does! Always!” Vee says, speaking at the same time as me.

  “School first! Always!” Megan says at the same time Vee speaks.

  “At the front office they told me you girls were in here because you were texting during gym,” Heather May says.

  Silence. Why did they have to go tell her that?

  “Well . . .” Vee begins as she squirms in her seat. “It was a very important matter. It couldn’t wait.”

  “Isn’t it school policy that you’re not allowed to use your phones during classes?” Heather May asks.

  More silence.

  “It was gym,” Megan says.

  “Isn’t physical education a required class?” Heather May asks.

  Megan pushes some hair behind her ear and I can see her lobes are reddening with embarrassment. “Technically . . . yes . . . but . . .”

  Heather May’s eyes brighten merrily. “It’s okay,” she says with a chuckle. “I don’t mean to put you girls on the spot. I’m getting the picture. Your phones are a huge part of your lives.”

  “That’s it!” Vee says. “You got it!”

  “Excellent, girls,” Heather May says, getting up from the desk where she’d been seated. Then she remembers something. “One last question: What kind of music do you girls like?”

  “All different kinds,” I say.

  “If you could go to a concert right now, who would you like to see?” she asks.

  “BOYS BEING DUDES!” the three of us answer at the same time.

  Heather May and her camerawoman both laugh. “That was pretty definite,” Heather May says.

  “Joe, the drummer, is really cute,” Megan tells her. “And you just know from looking at him that he’s a nice guy”

  “No way,” Vee says. “Lulu and I are both stuck on Derek, the lead singer. But Lulu is in for a disappointment because he’
s mine.”

  “That’s what you think?” I say.

  “Aren’t those guys too old for you?” the camerawoman asks.

  “No way!” Vee replies. “Derek is nineteen. I’m almost fourteen. That’s nothing, especially as you get older. He’ll wait for me.”

  “You mean he’ll wait for me,” I say.

  “We’ll see,” Vee says. Of course, we know this is all imaginary. But a girl can dream, can’t she? Derek has these gorgeous dark eyes. When you see the group perform it’s as if he’s looking right at you. I don’t know how he does it, seeming to sing to you and no one else. I can’t imagine what Megan sees in Joe. He’s not the least bit as cool as Derek. I guess it takes all kinds—or whatever it is they say. There’s no accounting for taste. They say that, too. Whatevs.

  “When will this be on?” Vee asks.

  “In two days, at the end of our regular show. Tune in around seven fifteen.” She gives us some releases our parents have to sign saying we have their permission to be on TV. “You can fax them, scan and send electronically, or even drive them down to the studio. The address is on the form.”

  “Can we get a picture with you?” Vee asks Heather May. We gather around and the camerawoman takes the picture. “And can I have one with just me?” Vee asks. Heather May agrees.

  “Now I have something really cool to Snap to Gwynneth,” Vee says, smiling so hard it looks like her face will crack.

  Gwynneth again!

  Chapter 6

  LATE THAT NIGHT, I take one last Snap.

  I add the JK and the emoji at the last minute before I post the Snap. I don’t want anyone to think I actually think I’m a star.

  Sleep is impossible because I keep picturing myself on TV. I hope my hair is okay and that I don’t sound dumb. A lot of times I hate the way my voice sounds when I hear it on videos. When I hear my own voice in real life, it sounds all right. On videos though, it’s so much higher! What if I sound horrible on TV? I regret that Snap. I should have sent a Snap telling them to watch something else at that time. That way no one would hear my horrible high-pitched whistle of a voice.

  I take a new Snap.

  Looking down at my phone screen, I change my mind. That’s just too nuts. I delete it. Maybe my voice isn’t as bad as I think. I hope not.

  I put in my headphones and listen to the new BBD song “New Girl in My

  .” Great title! Normally BBD would be way too pop for me, but there’s something about the BBD sound that I like a lot. Maybe it’s the drum solo in every song.

  Listening to music usually calms me but it’s not doing the trick tonight. I have this waking dream that makes me sit up straight in my bed. In it, Joe is home watching TV. At first when he sees me on Channel 14 News he thinks: “Who’s that cute girl?” Then, the moment I open my mouth, he cringes and clicks off the TV, his ears still throbbing with pain. What an awful voice, he thinks. Horrible! Horrible! Horrible!

  I write some fan fiction to calm myself. Bilbo Baggins journeys away from the Shire in search of his true voice. He believes that the high, squeaky voice he currently has belongs to an evil elf. The elf took Bilbo’s Hobbit voice. His friend Sam meets him along the way and tells Bilbo that he’s wrong. He’s always sounded like that. But Bilbo continues on, determined that this awful voice can’t really be his own.

  The next morning the first thing I do when I wake up is check my phone. Over forty kids want to know what’s happening on Saturday. It’s amazing the number of people who respond to your posts during the night and the early hours in the morning. Reading through them, I smile. Some just sent a golden trophy emoji like the Oscar.

  Seven o’clock, time to get going to school. They say things look better in the morning and I guess it’s true. I no longer have the jitters about my voice. I can’t sound THAT bad, can I? Getting out of bed, I toss my phone into my backpack. Then I dig it out and shut it off. My parents say that if I get sent to SAP again they’re taking my phone away.

  No! No! No!

  There’s no way I can let that happen.

  Phone is off!

  But what if something is happening that I need to know about right away? I hate the feeling of not knowing. It makes me feel so . . . out of it.

  I turn the phone on.

  Then off. Off! Off! Off!

  Saturday finally comes. My parents invite Lulu and Vee along with Lulu’s mom, Susan; Vee’s dad, Tom; and Vee’s brother, Eric, to our house to watch the news. Mom makes her famous nachos: One platter is chopped meat, refried beans, cheese, and tortilla chips. Another plateful is chips, veggie refried beans, and cheese, because Lulu and Susan are vegetarians. She also serves a big salad and, my favorite, her mac-and-cheese casserole. We gather around the TV, crowding onto the couch and the extra chairs my parents have put out. “Well, this is exciting!” Susan says with a big smile.

  “It sure is,” Tom agrees. Susan smiles at him and he smiles back. I text Vee and Lulu.

  Megan: Do your parents seem to be acting strange to you?

  Lulu: Idk. Are they?

  Vee: No. Why?

  Megan: Just wondering.

  Their parents keep smiling at each other.

  “I don’t believe this!” my dad says. He sounds fake outraged, like this is something he should be upset about but isn’t really. “We’re all here together and you girls are still texting, or Snapping, or Instagramming, or whatever it is you’re doing. I’d think you’d want to be talking to each other.”

  “We are talking to each other,” Lulu tells him. “We’re text talking.”

  “It’s a different world than when we were young,” Vee’s dad says. He turns to Eric, who is busy on his phone. “And who are you talking to?” he asks Eric.

  “Nobody,” Eric answers without even looking up. “Video game.”

  “You’re right, Tom. It’s a new world,” Susan says.

  “I wonder if it’s better or worse than it was,” Tom says.

  “It’s just different,” Susan says.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Tom agrees. They smile at each other again.

  Channel 14 News has been playing with the sound off. Mom points the remote at it, bringing the volume up. “It’s seven fifteen,” she says.

  Right on schedule Heather May appears on the screen. She looks taller, and not as thin as she did in person. Plus, her hair is all blown out into a blond halo. She looks very professional in a dark-blue wrap dress. In a way, she doesn’t even seem like the same person. “This is Heather May with a special report. Today we’ll look at the impact of social media on our kids.”

  As Heather May starts talking, her voice is over a clip showing people talking, paying bills, playing games, watching videos, and everything else people do on their phones and computers. Heather May tells us about a study that says the brain goes to its happy place every time a person gets a like on something he or she posted. It then shows a bunch of people on their phones, not talking to each other.

  Heather May tells us how Snapchat is the most popular social app among teens. “Despite copycat functions on other platforms, Snapping is still the way to go,” she says.

  “How come they’re not showing you?” Eric asks. “Are you even in this thing?”

  Honestly, I’m getting a little anxious. It’s almost over and we haven’t appeared. Then, suddenly, there we are. You can really tell we got caught in the rain that day. My hair is all straggly. Megan’s is a halo of frizz, and Lulu’s hangs in clumps. Again, Heather May’s voice comes over the video of us sitting in the SAP room, which really looks like a prison when you see it on TV. “We spoke to a group of girls from Pleasant Hill Middle School. They admitted that their phones play a big part in their lives. They use them to stay in touch with family and friends in the traditional way of calling to talk, but these days there are so many other ways in which phones help them to keep in touch.”

  The video shows us talking about how we always pay attention to our phones, even during the night. Luckily she does
n’t mention that we’re in the SAP room because we were using our phones during gym. She shows the part where we tell her that our phones never get in the way of schoolwork. She asks us about all the different social media platforms and ends with Snapchat.

  “This is great!” Susan says.

  “You girls look great, so cute,” my mom adds

  “Really?” Vee asks doubtfully. “Look at our hair!”

  It’s a mess, I say.

  “All three of you are adorable,” Susan says.

  “I don’t know about that,” Lulu says, shaking her head.

  Heather May continues talking to the viewers. “The girls confirmed that Snapping is a lot of fun and that they’ve even attempted something known as a Snapstreak.” The video goes to the part where we’re explaining what a Snapstreak is. (My voice is squeaky but not as horrible as I worried it would be.)

  As Heather May comes back on, standing in her studio, the adults clap for us. “Nicely done!” Mom says. Our home phone starts ringing right away. I know it’s my grandma or my aunts and uncles calling to say they saw me on TV. Everyone’s cell phones ring and buzz as people call and text to say they just saw us.

  But Heather May is still talking and I catch a few words above the commotion. I tap Vee and Lulu, who are texting. “Listen,” I say, pointing to the TV screen.

  “In honor of all our Snapstreaking viewers, Channel 14 News is delighted to announce that we’ve partnered with our affiliate stations to bring you a local contest, and wait until you young people out there hear what the prize will be.”

  Heather May pauses for dramatic effect. Her smile is brilliant and her eyes sparkle.

  “So tell us already,” Vee says to the screen.

  “The students who can keep a Snapchat Snapstreak going the longest will win a free performance for the students at their schools by the very popular band Boys Being Dudes,” Heather May says. “The contest will end on Saturday two weeks from today.”