The Enemy Hypothesis: A Brazos High Novella

by Sparling, Amy

  “Maybe you should just start being the boss. Tell Abuela to let you handle the finances.”

  “Yeah, right. It’ll never happen.” My heart hurts as I think of the conversation I had with my mom last night. After we got off the phone, she called my sister and griped at her, but I doubt it’ll do much. I just need to keep looking after my family until my parents get back.

  Jules and I part at the end of the hallway where she has math class and I go down to the CTE hallway for my first period cosmetology class. We’re doing a skincare unit so lately we’ve been applying makeup on each other as part of the lesson. Only today when I walk into class, all the supplies are still packed away.

  “No class today,” Mrs. Ashlee says with a sarcastic groan. “Instead, everyone will be watching a School-wide Initiative.” She makes finger quotes as she says it, and the expression on her face tells us she’s not too thrilled about it. Our school does this every now and then, stopping class to show everyone some video about how to be safe over spring break or the dangers of texting and driving.

  She turns on the smart board and rolls it to the front of the class. Cosmetology is a pretty small class with only twelve students in here including me. We all settle into our desks and prepare to be bored. The first ten minutes of the video is not only boring, but also depressing. It’s about bullying and it goes into detail about the horrible things that have happened to teenagers because of it. Then… the video gets interesting.

  They’re introducing the exciting new app called Un-bully. It’s an app that everyone at school has to download. We sign in with our student ID and then we’ll have access to this weird kudos system. That’s what they call it… kudos.

  Every time someone does something kind to their fellow classmate, we can go into the app and give them a kudos by tapping the thumbs up icon. On the other hand, if they do something mean to another person, we can give them a thumbs down which is called a demerit. Each kudos has different categories, like Friendship, Good Samaritan, and Above and Beyond—all levels of kudos that give different numbers of points. There are also levels of the thumbs down demerits relating to bullying, being mean, or scamming people.

  The guy on the video talks quickly and excitedly, waving his arms around on screen. I get the feeling he’s an aspiring Hollywood actor who is just waiting for his big break. He tells us about the app’s special algorithms that calculate the points value for each kudos or demerit, taking into account extra information if you type in an explanation when you submit a kudos into the app. The special algorithm ranks everyone on a scoreboard. The contest will take one month and then on September 30th, whoever is at the top of the scoreboard wins.

  “This is so lame,” Brittany mutters under her breath from the desk behind me.

  “Totally,” I mutter back.

  Even Mrs. Ashlee stands next to the smart board looking annoyed that we’re forced to watch this presentation. Usually the teachers at least pretend to care about the videos they show us in class.

  “So what’s in it for you?” the guy on the screen says. It’s almost as if he’s been reading our thoughts. “For starters, you should get a sense of satisfaction from using the Un-bully app. It will make you feel rewarded for being a good citizen, and there is no better feeling than making a difference in your community.”

  According to the sarcastic muttering in this classroom, I’d say not everyone agrees with Mister Enthusiastic TV Guy. Too bad he’s just a recorded video and he can’t see our reactions in person. I’d love to see how he reacts to knowing that a bunch of high schoolers don’t care about the dumb apps our school wants us to use.

  “Now for the good part,” the guy says. He moves close to the screen and pretends to look around the classroom as if he’s actually in the room with us and not on TV. I guess I have to give him credit for trying really hard to be entertaining. “We’ve partnered with a Car World Dealership in your area, and at the end of this month, whichever student is at the top of the scoreboard will win a brand new car.”

  Um, what?

  I sit up straighter. Even Mrs. Ashley flinches at the surprising news. He then goes on to say that the winner will choose a new car up to thirty thousand dollars. Holy cow!

  “So what are you waiting for?” he says as he retrieves a phone from the back pocket of his khaki pants. “Download the Un-bully app now. Then select your school and sign in with your student ID. You’ll find that you already have points. That’s because your teachers have been secretly using the Un-bully app for the last two weeks. Yep, that’s right!” He grins at the camera. “You all already have kudos or demerits from the last two weeks and the algorithm has been hard at work. So log in and see what your teachers have had to say about your actions toward your fellow classmates. That’s all for now,” he says, waving at the camera. “Good luck!”

  The room fills with chatter. Everyone is freaking out about the new car. I’ll admit, I’m freaking out a bit, too. A new car? I can’t even imagine how amazing that would be. Here I am wanting just a cheap used car but a brand new car would be the coolest thing ever.

  Unfortunately, there are hundreds of students in our school and only one person wins. As much as I’d love a new car, it’s pointless to get your hopes up about that kind of thing. Brittany grills Mrs. Ashlee about the app and she says that all teachers were supposed to be secretly awarding kudos or demerits to students lately. Mrs. Ashlee assures us not to worry and says she’s given all of us kudos over the last few days.

  Everyone rushes to download the app. Mrs. Ashlee informs us that the school is making participation mandatory and you won’t get your final report card if you don’t participate. Part of me wonders if that’s even legal, but the school provides tablets to any student who wants one for schoolwork, so I guess there’s no one without a way to use the app. As if they don’t give us enough work already, they want us to use some dumb app now? Ugh.

  I’m mentally trash talking my school as I watch the Un-bully app download on my phone. This is so lame.

  I type my student ID and log in. It makes me go through some tutorial showing me how to use the app. First you search for the student you want, either by typing their name or using the app to list all of the students in your proximity. To my horror, I realize they’re using everyone’s yearbook photos from last year in the app. My hair might have looked okay in that photo, but my face certainly doesn’t. I cringe. Hopefully there’s an option to change my user photo.

  After selecting the student, you can click the thumbs up or thumbs down icon to award them kudos or demerits. It’s all pretty self-explanatory, so I quickly click through the tutorial. Once it’s over, it takes me to the main dashboard. I see my name and ugly yearbook photo. And then there’s a number right underneath it.

  Chills prickle over my skin.

  “Abby, holy crap!” someone says. I guess they just saw the same thing.

  How is this possible?

  My vision blurs and my pulse races as I stare at my phone. Surely it’s some kind of mistake, right? Because right now on the score board of every single student at Brazos High… I am ranked number 4.

  “Holy crap,” I whisper under my breath.

  “Wow, Abby,” Mrs. Ashlee says. “You could actually win this thing.”

  Four

  MARK

  Welp. Someone should call the Guinness Book of World Records. We need to get them out here and show them the video my school just showed us so they can award Brazos High the honor of having the Lamest Video Ever.

  Seriously. That was so cringey. That guy and his khaki pants and lame polo shirt had more energy than anyone ever needs to have. He was like an infomercial on crack. And he tried way too hard to get our attention. We’re teenagers, not infants. Just talk straight with us, man.

  Finally, after what feels like forever, the stupid video ends and my math teacher tells everyone to download the app. Everyone is freaking out about winning a car. It does sound awesome. A new car would allow my parents to stop
paying for my lease, even if it is just a cheap thirty thousand dollar car. Knowing my parents, that wouldn’t be good enough for them. They want us all driving luxury vehicles to maintain our fake wealthy status. So maybe I could win the car and sell it and give my parents the cash. I’d forever be their favorite son if I did something like that.

  I chuckle as I download the app on my phone. My parents don’t really choose favorites between Julian and me, but if they did, I bet he’d win. He deserves it, too. He does work all day long, every day at Caputo’s. He’s their most valuable employee. I only work part time, and only when they force me to because my parents don’t pay me to work there. They can get free labor since I’m family and I save them the trouble of hiring more outside employees. Thirty grand wouldn’t solve all of their problems, but it would help.

  Maybe I’ll try to win this car. All I have to do is be nice to people. How hard could it be?

  I load up my profile on the app. All around me people are comparing their current rank on the scoreboard. I hear someone shout that they’re number twenty three, and a few others are down in the one or two hundreds. I skip the tutorial on the app and click around trying to find my rank. I’ll need to see how many people I need to pass up in order to win this car.

  My ranking is right under my profile picture. And it can’t possibly be right.

  I stare at the number and then click around, trying to see how to fix my app. Only it can’t be fixed.

  I am in last place.

  At the front of the class, my teacher is telling everyone that this is only two weeks’ worth of data, and it’s only from the teachers. He says they’re expecting everyone’s ranking to change a lot over the month, and it should be a fun challenge.

  Fun challenge? I am in last place! There’s nothing fun about this at all.

  Granted, I’m tied with forty-nine other students for last place. I don’t know how this could have happened. Maybe my teachers just forgot about me when they were giving out kudos.

  Within minutes, everyone’s ranks start changing as students start using the app. I don’t give anyone a kudos or demerit because I’m kind of stuck here in shock after seeing how poorly I rank compared to the rest of the school. My teacher attempts to go over the test review for the remainder of the class period, but most people aren’t paying attention.

  By the time the bell rings for lunch, not much has changed. The entire school is alive with excitement over the new app. Everyone wants to win the car. People are obsessed with checking the scoreboard and no one is paying attention in class. I walk the hallways with shame and frustration because I can’t believe I’m in last place.

  I sit with a few friends at lunch and they’re all talking about the stupid app.

  “I went from 117 to 93 today,” Blake says with his mouth full of pizza. “That car will be mine in no time.”

  “How’d you pull that off?” I ask.

  Blake shrugs. “I’m giving every girl I see a compliment.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “They can’t help but give me a kudos after that.”

  I roll my eyes. Something tells me that giving out fake compliments isn’t a way to stop bullying. What did this stupid app think would happen? No one is genuine. They all just want a car.

  “What’s your rank?” Blake asks.

  I shrug. “I haven’t bothered checking.”

  “Psh, everyone is checking!” he says, calling my bluff. “I’m guessing homeboy’s Lexus makes him too good to try to win a car.”

  The guys at my lunch table all agree, giving me crap for being too rich to care. I decide to play into it. Better to let them think I don’t care than to let them see how embarrassed I am for being in last place.

  “Duuude,” Oliver says from way down the lunch table. He leans forward and holds up his phone as if he’s just discovered something amazing. “No wonder Mark doesn’t care. He’s in last place!”

  Everyone turns to look at me. Thankfully I’m pretty tan or else I’d be worried everyone could see the heat pooling in my cheeks right about now. I shrug. “So what. The app is rigged.”

  Oliver snorts. “Nah, I think it’s just you.”

  My defenses shoot up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, let’s see…” he says, pretending to think about it a moment. I am totally aware that all eyes at the lunch table are on this conversation. “These last few months you’ve been a total a-hole, if you know what I mean.” He glances to his right to where his girlfriend Lanie is sitting. She doesn’t allow him to curse. She doesn’t allow any of us to curse, actually.

  “Whatever, man.” I let it go and soon enough, everyone goes back to their talks about the stupid app. But deep down it’s bothering me. Why am I in last place? I’m not a bad guy. Sure, I flirt a lot but that’s not a bad thing. It’s not like I have a girlfriend and shouldn’t be flirting with anyone else.

  As soon as the bell rings I jump up and toss my trash and then head toward my fifth period class. I’m still reeling over what Oliver said and I guess I’m too annoyed to pay attention. I end up shoulder-checking my buddy Jake Morgan without realizing it.

  “Sorry,” I say, hoping he doesn’t decide to give me a demerit on the app for not seeing him. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “No worries,” Jake says. “I’ve had a ton of people run into me today, but they’ve all been on their phones.”

  I hold up my empty hands. “I’m so sick of that app.”

  “Same,” he says, eyeing me curiously. “Must be hard to be way down on the list.”

  I shrug. It’s such a simple, casual gesture and it’s the total opposite of what I feel inside. “I don’t really care. Not sure why I’m in last place.”

  Jake bites his lip as we walk. I can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

  “Go on,” I say, prodding him. “What is it?”

  He shifts his backpack on his shoulders. “I mean… ever since last year when your gran died… you’ve been…”

  I close my eyes and then nod once. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  Gran was the glue that held my family together. She was the best cook in the family, and that’s saying something because we’re all pretty good cooks. She was always bailing my parents out when they needed money, and when she died suddenly last year, my parents were devastated to learn she’d left all her money to charity instead of them. With all the drama at home, I guess it did make me change a little. I ditched the Small Business Club I was president of, dropped out of the soccer team that Jake is on, and quit seeing my friends as much.

  “It’s only the first day,” Jake says. “I’m sure you’ll raise in the ranks.” He takes out his phone and pulls up my name, then gives me a thumbs up on the app. “There ya go.”

  “Thanks,” I say, feeling somehow more annoyed that he thinks I’m a charity case. We part ways for our next class and I head to accounting which is my favorite class of the day. It’s an elective and everyone takes it as an easy blow off class, but I try to learn as much as I can since I want to go to college for this.

  My accounting teacher, Mr. Jovanni, is clustered around a group of students who are all talking about the app when I walk into the class. He’s going on about algorithms and how exciting this one is because it gives a different weight to each kudos and demerit. Some kudos are worth more than others, and it even has a way to tell if someone is trying to trick the system, like by getting all of their friends to give them kudos at once.

  I drop down in my chair and sit quietly, wondering when class will start. But fifteen minutes later, my teacher is still happily chatting about the stupid app.

  This cute girl in class named Abby is apparently number four on the scoreboard and everyone is talking to her about it. I don’t know her at all even though we have class together. She’s quiet and keeps to herself.

  “No one cares,” I snap. “Are we going to learn anything or just sit around praising this chick for being a goody two-shoes?”

 
All eyes turn to me.

  Abby flips her long brown hair over her shoulder and stares me down. “It’s easy to talk crap when you’re in last place. Guess you have nothing else to lose, huh?”

  Five

  ABBY

  I can’t believe I just said that. I am not the kind of person to go off on someone, even if they deserve it. And boy does Mark Caputo deserve it. He’s a spoiled rotten jerk who thinks his silky gorgeous hair and fancy car makes him better than the rest of us. I’m glad he’s in last place on the Un-bully app. Clearly this app has a pretty good algorithm. People need to learn that being hot and rich doesn’t make them better than everyone else.

  Mark’s eyes widen. I hold my death glare, not breaking eye contact to look around the room, but I’m pretty sure everyone is watching us. Mark must not have thought I had it in me to challenge him, but now that I have, I feel powerful.

  “So why don’t you just mind your own business and let the rest of us who don’t own luxury cars have fun trying to win one?” I say. My heart is pounding.

  Mark takes a breath, but I guess he decides I’m not worth it. He just snickers to himself and then lets it go. Our teacher clears his throat and begins his lesson for the day. I don’t hear a word he says. I take notes from the smartboard, but they don’t make sense. I’m too hyped up with adrenaline from what I just did.

  I can’t believe I spent fifth to ninth grade having a crush on that guy. I’ve always had a few crushes at once, so it’s not like I was obsessed with him or anything, but still. I’m embarrassed. He’s just a selfish hot jerk. I am so done with him.

  I glance around the classroom. The lights are off since we’re all watching a lesson on the smartboard, so no one can see me. I dim the brightness on my phone screen, then pull up Mark’s profile. I give him a thumbs down. It’s the first demerit I’ve given all day.

  It feels amazing.