by Donna Cooner
“Overused simile,” Caitlin said teasingly.
“Okay,” Luna said, smiling. “It takes off … like a viral cat meme.”
“Better.” Caitlin laughed.
“Or a wildfire,” I said, but I wasn’t laughing.
What did all this mean? Luna was going to write about our vow? And she wanted more people to be a part of it? Suddenly it felt like things were happening too fast.
And what about the fact that I’d broken the vow last night? Should I share my secret with my friends now, before we got too many other people involved? But Luna’s face was flushed with triumph, so I swallowed down my uncertainty and didn’t say anything more.
“Yes, a wildfire,” Luna said, her eyes alert. “I like that.”
“You have to light the spark first,” Caitlin said. “Do you know how you’re going to kick this thing off?”
“Not yet,” Luna admitted. “But it’s going to have to be big.”
One’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.
—Henry Miller
Early Monday morning, way before breakfast time, Luna texted me and Caitlin to meet her at school before the bell. She said she was ready to put her plan into action. Caitlin texted back that she had morning football practice, but that we should fill her in on everything later. I told Luna I’d meet her at school.
Slipping out of bed, I headed for the shower. I felt guilty and tired. I had failed again last night and logged back on to ChitChat. I told myself I would only look at faraway places. Like Paris. But of course that had turned into more endless scrolling until finally I’d managed to pull myself out of the hole and delete the app again.
Just breathe.
It was too early to eat breakfast and I felt way too anxious to even consider it. When I arrived at school, the hallways were deserted except for Luna standing right in the middle of the foyer with a huge grin on her face. She pulled out the stack of flyers and a roll of tape from her backpack. She handed me a pile of the neon-yellow papers and I read with trepidation.
DO YOU FEEL TRAPPED IN A SOCIAL MEDIA WORLD?
IS LIFE PASSING YOU BY WHILE YOU’RE ON THE PHONE?
LIVE YOUR LIFE—DON’T JUST POST ABOUT IT.
JOIN US FOR THE #OFFLINEOCTOBER CHALLENGE!
MEET US AT MUGS THIS WEDNESDAY AT 4 P.M. TO LEARN MORE!
The guilt stabbed my heart. “Wow,” I said. “You’re really going for it.”
“Yep.” Luna spread her arms and looked over her shoulder. I followed her gaze.
She had been busy. There were neon-yellow signs on every single door of every single classroom. On lockers. On the library windows. It was impressive. Even for Luna.
“It’s sad, but I really want to take a picture of all my hard work and post it on ChitChat,” she said with a laugh. “I guess it’s hardwired into our brains.”
I nodded, chewing on my lower lip.
Tell her you broke the vow.
She looked so happy. So excited. I couldn’t ruin it. Not now.
“Do you think people will want to take part in this?” I asked her carefully.
Luna nodded. “Definitely. People will be intrigued, at least. It’s like an invitation to an exclusive club.” She looked at me and added, “You can be there at Mugs on Wednesday afternoon, right? Caitlin already said she can come. I can’t do this without the two of you.”
My stomach clenched. I didn’t want to be part of a group project. When I finally got up the nerve to tell Luna and Caitlin that I’d gone on ChitChat, they would understand. Or at least I hoped they would. But if more and more kids were part of the vow? There was no way I wanted my failure to somehow become another public spectacle.
But how could I say no to Luna after all she’d done for me? “Sure, I’ll be there,” I said. It was the least I could do, considering my betrayal.
“Great. Can you put the rest of these up by the front entrance?” Luna asked me, handing me a roll of tape. “You’re taller than me, so maybe you can hang one up right over the door?”
“I’ll try,” I said. I went over to the entrance, but I wasn’t quite tall enough to reach above the door. So I found a stepladder to borrow in the janitor’s closet and stood on it, stretching my arms up with the flyer in hand. It was still hard to reach. Time was ticking. Students would pour into those front doors at any minute, and I was sure Luna wanted everything ready by then.
“Do you want some help with that?” I heard a voice behind me ask.
I turned carefully on the stepladder to see Isco standing there, an amused half smile on his face. I flushed. I hadn’t seen him at school since the day I met him at the animal shelter. Since we’d had that somewhat awkward encounter with the jumper cables. But I had learned that his full name was Francisco Rizal, and he was a senior.
I didn’t want Isco to think I was some damsel in distress, always in need of saving. But at the same time, he was taller than me and could probably get the flyer up there without any trouble.
“Okay,” I finally said.
He sauntered over and joined me on the stepladder. I handed him the flyer and the tape, and he posted the flyer quickly, right above the door.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“No problem,” he said. He read over the sign, his eyes bright with interest. “This sounds cool. Are you involved in it?”
I shrugged. “Sort of.”
I climbed down from the stepladder, and Isco followed. “Hey,” he said. “I’m working at the shelter after school today. Maybe I’ll see you there?”
“Maybe,” I said. I realized that going to the shelter would help keep me away from ChitChat. I waved to Isco and hurried off to return the stepladder to the janitor’s closet.
The halls were full of students by then. I heard someone say, “Cool hair.”
I turned and saw Tiffany Grimes, who sat next to me in English class. She smiled, opening her locker.
I ran my fingers through my hair nervously. “You think so?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling surprised. I’d only been expecting snide remarks on my hair, but Tiffany’s kindness gave me a boost.
After I returned the stepladder to the janitor’s closet, I went to rejoin Luna by her locker.
Luna was chatting excitedly with Ms. Spencer, the journalism teacher and newspaper advisor. I liked Ms. Spencer. She wore hardly any makeup, but still looked beautiful with clear brown skin, high cheekbones, and dark curly hair that was usually pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head and fastened with a stray pencil. I thought that looked particularly reporter-like. Just like in old movies. Now reporters would probably have to stick a phone in their hair and that wouldn’t look good at all. I especially liked her no-nonsense style of jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers. She looked like she was always ready to run out to a breaking story.
“I think this has all the makings of a great story,” I heard Ms. Spencer saying to Luna. She tapped the flyer Luna had handed to her. “As I like to say, anything can be news, but not everything is newsworthy.”
I saw the burst of pride on Luna’s face. “Thank you,” she said, but I could tell she wanted to say so much more. Praise from Ms. Spencer was hard to get, and that made it even more special.
Ms. Spencer’s tiny, all-knowing smile told me she knew exactly how much this compliment meant to Luna.
“I’ll let Tamar know you’re working on this piece,” Ms. Spencer said. “I’m sure she’ll be quite impressed.” She gave Luna a meaningful look, and I felt my heart jump. Did that mean Ms. Spencer thought Tamar might like this idea enough to make Luna the new editor in chief?
Luna’s eyes were sparkling. “I hope so,” she said. Suddenly, she caught my hand and held it. “The idea wouldn’t even exist without Annie,” she told Ms. Spencer proudly. “Her story is the most inspiring part of this whole offline challenge.”
The trust in her voice made my heart skip.
If only she knew.
After school, I went back to the shelter, and Isco didn’t seem surprised at all to see me. He printed my name on a blank name tag without even a reminder. Looking at the top of his head bent over the desk, I noticed how his hair was thick and dark and shiny. Then I kicked myself for noticing. Cute boys with good hair and big smiles only brought heartache. And I didn’t need any more of that.
When Isco finished writing, his pen rolled across the desk, and I reached for it, tipping over a potted plant in the process. I froze in horror as dirt spilled across the desk and onto the tiled white floor. I sank down onto my knees, scooping up the dirt with my hands and dumping huge handfuls back into the now-upright pot.
“I … That’s not necessary.” Isco peered at me over the top of the desk.
“I’m so sorry.” I kept working, flinging dirt desperately in the general direction of the pot, feeling the heat of embarrassment engulf my face. I wasn’t sure if I was sorry about the mess I’d made here, or the mess I was making by breaking the vow and not telling my friends.
Isco walked around the desk and reached for my dirty hands, making me stop. “Seriously, Annie. It’s no big deal. I’ll clean this up with the broom.”
I pulled my hands out of his grasp and wiped them on the back of my jeans. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ve had better days.”
“But you’re here now, so you can leave all the bad stuff out there,” he said, motioning toward the parking lot. “Do you want a new assignment?”
I shook my head. “I brought something for Rocco.”
“I like the pink streak,” he told me as he led me down the hall to Rocco’s kennel. “It suits you.”
“Oh,” I said, blushing. “Thanks.” I hadn’t blushed when Tiffany—and a couple other kids at school—had complimented my hair today. I shook my head, annoyed at myself.
Rocco seemed to recognize me immediately, picking up his head and immediately trotting over to the gate with his tail wagging enthusiastically. He sat down and pushed his soft brown snout through the opening for a scratch.
I stroked his nose, then squatted down to meet his eyes, crooning through the fence. “Hi, sweetie.”
Rocco’s tail waved even faster, thumping rhythmically on the concrete floor.
Isco smiled. “It’s okay if you read to him inside the kennel, but only if you’re comfortable. Give him some extra time and attention. Give him a chance. He needs you.”
And maybe I need him, too, I thought.
Isco headed back out to the front, and I settled down on the floor beside the gate and pulled out a new book. It was a picture book that I’d taken out from the library, about howler monkeys in Costa Rica. Rocco loved the pictures, and I tried to make the sound of the monkeys for him. He tilted his head, perking his ears and listening closely—and I almost thought he was laughing with his big, panting grin.
After a while, I decided it was time. I slipped inside the kennel to sit on the floor next to Rocco and read the book to him again. Small excited yips escaped his mouth every time I turned the page to a new picture.
After we were done, I stroked his soft nose, and he rested his head on top of my thigh. His breathing was deep and measured against my leg. I matched my breaths to his, feeling my heartbeat steady and slow. It was hard to believe a dog could express such different emotions. Right above his eyes were these movable bones—sort of like doggy eyebrows. When he was excited, they went up, and when his head was resting on my leg, his doggy eyebrows pulled down tight in concentration like he was listening intently to anything I might want to say. So I started talking.
“Someday I’m going to Costa Rica,” I told Rocco. He looked at me like he totally believed it. I chewed on the nail of my pinkie and told Rocco how I dreamed of jungles, beaches, cliffs, and sunsets.
“That’s almost what I’ve been missing most about ChitChat,” I explained. “The travel pictures. I love looking at them. Even now.” I stroked Rocco’s soft brown nose. “I don’t think that’s such a bad part of social media, is it?”
His tail thumped hard against the concrete in response.
I squirmed around on the concrete, then frowned down at Rocco. “It’s pretty bad that I’m breaking the vow, huh? But I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”
Rocco rolled his brown eyes up to meet mine. No judgment.
When your dad is bigger than life, you can’t help but be smaller. I don’t want to keep fighting to get above the water, but I think sometimes I’m drowning from all the attention heaped on him. Maybe that’s why I keep trying to do something people say I can’t? Iain McCloud is the huge center on the team. Anyway, he told me the other day at practice that he collects erasers. I asked him why and he said because he makes a lot of mistakes. The erasers make him feel like things are fixable. I liked that.
Cait
Isn’t everyone a part of everyone else?
—Budd Schulberg
On Wednesday afternoon at 4:00 p.m., Luna, Caitlin, and I gathered at Mugs to wait for others to join us for #OfflineOctober—or not. Luna had reserved a big table in the back and ordered the three of us our favorite drinks.
“Who do you think is coming?” Caitlin asked, sipping her latte.
“I’m not sure. There’s really no way to know,” Luna said. She pulled out her laptop and powered it up. “Only a few people told me they would be here, but hopefully word has spread more.”
Ever since Luna had put up the flyers, there’d been buzz throughout the hallways about “Offline October” and what it meant.
“If Mariah shows up, I’m leaving,” I said firmly.
“Me too,” Caitlin said.
“I don’t think she’ll be here,” Luna said. “It’s not her style to give up ChitChat for one day, much less a month.”
Just then, the door opened and Isco walked in. My eyes widened.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as he approached our table. He wore a faded blue T-shirt with an unzipped gray hoodie.
“I like coffee. I hear they sell it here.” He flashed me his big smile. “Besides, you know, I did see this flyer about a meeting here today. Thought I’d check it out.”
I couldn’t help but smile back, even though I was a little flustered to have him here.
“Welcome,” Luna said, gesturing to an open seat at the long table. “I’m Luna, by the way. This is Caitlin, and that’s Annie.”
Isco nodded. “Nice to meet you all. I’m Isco. Annie and I work together at the shelter.”
That made Caitlin look up from her drink. “What shelter?”
“Um,” I said. “I’ve been volunteering at the animal shelter … That was the thing I picked to do off the list.”
“Really?” Luna said with a this is all very interesting look on her face. I could tell she was dying to ask me why I hadn’t mentioned the shelter, or Isco.
I was relieved when two freshman girls came into the café and walked over to our table.
I recognized them mostly from their fashionista posts online, although I didn’t know them well. One wore a slouchy pink sweater over black leggings tucked into leopard-skin booties. The other paired her black Doc Martens boots with a white tank tucked into a daisy-patterned midi skirt. They sat whispering to each other in the chairs at the end of the table while Isco went to get coffee.
More people started to trickle in. Thankfully, there were no signs of Mariah, Jordyn, Jameson, or Milo. Davis and his boyfriend, Ben, showed up and sat down near Caitlin. Then a girl I didn’t recognize walked in. She was overweight, dressed all in black with thick black eyeliner, and wore deep purple eye shadow. The girl sat down in the chair beside the wall and looked like she wanted to disappear. My heart went out to her. I felt like she would get me.
“Hey. My name is Annie,” I said to her.
The girl nodded, then mumbled, “Jennifer.”
“Welcome,” I said.
Isco came back with his coffee. Now there was a total of nine kids settled self-consciously around the table. I looked around the g
roup, curious. Why would each of them want to leave ChitChat? Maybe they needed this break from their own self-consciousness and self-obsession just as much as I did.
I could tell Luna was ecstatic with the turnout. Her brown eyes were gleaming. Sure, Luna could write the article about just the three of us taking the vow, but that wouldn’t be good enough. Not for Luna. This story needed to be bigger. And this group of teenagers—all wide-eyed and uncomfortable—was just what she’d been looking for.
Luna stood up from her chair. “I want to thank everyone for coming. You are all interested in the offline challenge, yes?”
Most nodded. A few shrugged.
Luna continued. “I’m going to be documenting our journey for our school newspaper and I’d like to know a little more about why you’re taking the vow to leave ChitChat.”
The two fashionistas were already glancing to the side, knees jittering nervously up and down. One was chewing on a fingernail. The other looked like she was counting ceiling tiles. And then there was Caitlin, who kept clicking the top on her pen in and out and in and out.
Click. Click. Click.
I wanted to post a photo of just the circle of restless hands and feet. I would label it #withdrawal #missingChitChat #OfflineOctober.
“Okay, I’ll start,” Luna said. She held up her phone. “This,” she said, “is like a Wheel of Fortune. Every time you open ChitChat, you spin the wheel. Sometimes you receive a reward—a like, a follow, a message, a comment. Sometimes you don’t, but the times you do are enough to trigger a chemical reaction in your brain. So you come back again. And again. And again.”
“Like rats in an experiment?” Davis asked, wrinkling his nose.
Luna leaned forward and nodded. “Exactly. Your brain releases an actual chemical called dopamine.” Unsurprisingly, Luna had done her research. “That burst of dopamine makes your brain want to repeat whatever it was you did to give you that good feeling,” she went on. “It’s the same chemical that’s released in your body when you exercise or eat something delicious or have a successful social interaction.”