Miss Communication

by Jennifer L. Holm

  Finally, I was ready for my close-up!

  “Now, we should start by relaxing and stretching your face muscles so you can smile properly. Do what I do.”

  She smiled as widely as she possibly could, showing all her teeth and moving her chin backward and forward, up and down. She then moved her lips from side to side so much that I thought they might fall off her face. Next, she moved her eyebrows and forehead right, left, up, and down.

  Who knew there was so much prep work to get a natural smile?

  After ten more minutes of practicing my smile, Penny announced that I was looking good.

  “Let’s get started,” she said.

  She looked through her camera and started snapping.

  “Give me a bunch of different looks,” she told me.

  When we were all done, Penny uploaded the images to her computer. We picked out the shot I liked the best, and Penny went into editorial mode.

  “This is what they do with the images of models in fashion magazines,” she explained.

  She began airbrushing, tweaking, lightening, darkening, and slimming until she had everything absolutely perfect.

  I couldn’t believe it! I looked just like a model!

  I couldn’t BELIEVE how fabulous I looked.

  “Penny, you’re a genius!” I told her as I uploaded my new profile pic to the SoFamous app.

  “Magnifique!” she replied, giving me a high five. We treated ourselves to a chocolate milk to celebrate our success.

  Suddenly, my phone rang. Was it a talent agency? Modeling scout? Every person who had ever been mean to me calling to apologize and beg for my forgiveness?

  I looked down. It was Gramps.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Babymouse! Someone hacked your SoFamous account! They just uploaded a photo of a strange Frenchwoman to your profile.”

  “That’s me, Gramps,” I said.

  Le sigh.

  By the time Monday rolled around, I was happy to go back to school because I still felt so glamorous. Sure, it had taken a half hour to remove all the makeup when I got home from Penny’s, but it was a small price to pay for all the fun we had and how beautiful I felt.

  RINGGGG!

  Time for gym class.

  We all changed into our totally NOT magnifique gym uniforms and filed into the gymnasium.

  Our gym teacher, Ms. DiMaggio, blew her whistle. “All right, everyone. Today we’re going to take a break and watch a movie.”

  Everyone cheered.

  “Just kidding!” she continued. “We’re running laps. Start stretching.”

  We got down on the floor mats and began to stretch.

  I groaned. “I hate running laps.”

  “Running laps isn’t so bad with the GymIsSuperFun app,” Georgie whispered next to me, showing me his phone.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s an app that tells you how fast you’re running,” he replied.

  “Cool!”

  “Babymouse! Georgie!” Ms. DiMaggio yelled. “Less talking, more stretching!”

  I thought about what Georgie had said as I struggled to reach my toes. I still had barely any apps on my phone.

  “What other apps do you have, Georgie?” I whispered.

  “Hmm. Well, if you’re talking about health and fitness, you can also get BreatheApp. It tells you if you’re breathing. And BloodApp, which tells you if your blood is flowing. And BrainApp, which tells you if your brain is thinking.”

  “So, basically, these apps tell me if I’m ALIVE?”

  “No, no. That would be AliveApp. Totally different. That’s a premium app you pay for.”

  I needed to get these apps ASAPP! Er, ASAP.

  * * *

  By the time I got back to the locker room, I felt like I was going to collapse. I decided to catch my breath while I looked at some other apps. I pulled up the Whiz BangTM app shop on my phone but was immediately overwhelmed by choices.

  Felicia looked over my shoulder.

  “I know what app you should get, Babymouse,” she said.

  “Really? Which one?” I asked.

  “An app for perfect whiskers!” Felicia said.

  Argh. That made me mad. But also kind of curious about whether that was a real thing….I would have to look into it once my whiskers grew back.

  * * *

  Later that day, I was at my locker between classes when I got a random text. It was the unidentified texter again! I shook my head in frustration. I still had no idea who it was!

  I couldn’t believe it! (Not about that sandwich. That I could believe.) MY PHONE WAS GONE. It was tragic. My mind raced through all the magical moments we had had together, like a montage. (A very short montage, but still…)

  I was already having separation anxiety. What would I do? And more importantly, what would I tell my parents?

  * * *

  As soon as I got home, I went on my computer to see if I could find an app to find a lost phone.

  T wo days had passed, and I still couldn’t find my phone. And what was worse—the apps that find your phone apparently only work if you download them BEFORE you lose it. What is the point in that?

  HOW COULD I LIVE WITHOUT A PHONE?! (Well, except for all the time in my life I had previously lived without a phone….)

  I had to get a new one ASAP. I would just have to come clean to my parents and beg for forgiveness.

  My mom was at her desk.

  “Mom, can I talk to you?” I asked.

  “Sure, what’s up?” she replied.

  “What would you do if you lost something that was very expensive, and very important to you, and that you promised not to lose in the first place?” I figured if I kept it vague, she wouldn’t suspect anything.

  “You lost your phone already?” she asked.

  How could she possibly know? I swear she was a mind reader!

  “I think my locker ate it,” I admitted.

  “That’s disappointing, Babymouse. Having a phone is a big responsibility. If you want a new one, you’ll have to pay for it yourself.”

  Le sigh.

  I logged on to the computer to take a look at my bank balance.

  Ugh. It was worse than I thought, but I’d have to figure something out. I was going crazy without my phone. My fingers were shaking. My hands and heart felt so empty. (I had been secretly carrying around my calculator just to have something to keep me company. I think that remote-control experiment really messed with my head.)

  I opened a new tab, and typed in the Whiz BangTM website to see how much a new phone would cost.

  FREE! Now, that I could afford!

  I begged my mom to take me to the store. She agreed, but only after I promised to finish my homework and clean my room. I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to do my chores.

  * * *

  My mom took Squeak and me to the Whiz BangTM store later that night. Just my luck, the exact same employee was working.

  “Hey! I remember you,” she said. “Weren’t you just here?”

  “Yes,” I replied, embarrassed. “I lost my phone, and I need a new one.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but the good news is we have lots of exciting new models that came RIGHT AFTER you purchased your last phone!”

  “New models? Oooh! Tell me more!”

  “We’ve just introduced the new Whiz BangTM Oversize Mini,” the saleswoman said.

  “I’ll take it!”

  “A Whiz Bang™ Oversize Mini?” my mom asked. “So it’s a larger version of the Mini? Wouldn’t that just be the same as the original?”

  The saleswoman and I both had a good laugh. Mothers can be so embarrassing sometimes.

  “Ma’am, these are completely di
fferent models,” she explained. “The Whiz Bang™ Oversize Mini is larger than the Whiz Bang™ Oversize Mini Mini but not quite as large as the Whiz Bang™ Oversize Oversize Mini. Let me show you.”

  She pulled out a tray from under the counter.

  “See, Mom.” I pointed to their various awesome features. “They are all totally different.”

  “Whatever you say, Babymouse,” she said. “It’s your money, so it’s up to you.”

  Here was my chance to impress everyone with my online research and savvy as a consumer. I picked out the Whiz BangTM Oversize Mini, which was the one I had wanted originally.

  “What color would you like?” the saleswoman asked.

  “Do you have pink?”

  “Do we have pink?” she laughed. “Of course we have pink! We have pink pink, off-pink, sunrise pink, sunset pink, flamingo pink, pink champagne, and bubble gum pink.”

  “Bubble gum, please.” I wanted to keep it classic. Old-school pink.

  “How much is it?” my mom asked.

  “Great news!” continued the saleswoman. “We’re running a special right now, so your total is the low, low price of ninety dollars.” Then, under her breath, she added, “Excluding taxes and fees, of course.”

  “Ninety dollars?! But the website said it would be free,” I said, shocked.

  “Oh, you must not have read the fine print. The phone is free only for new customers with a thirty-two month contract,” she said. “You already have a contract with us, and you aren’t due for an upgrade for at least another year.”

  Argh. That definitely complicated things.

  “If you don’t have the money, Babymouse,” Squeak said, “I could lend it to you.”

  “That’s so sweet, Squeak!” Mom said. “What a nice thing to do for your sister.”

  As it turned out, the phone was over a hundred dollars with taxes and fees, which really makes me wonder why people say “talk is cheap.”

  “Thanks for lending me the money, Squeak,” I said. “So, what’s the catch?”

  “Let’s just say there’s some fine print,” he said with a smile.

  In the end, I agreed to let him borrow the phone and to do his chores until I paid him back. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he also made me promise to give him fifty percent of my next Halloween candy stash.

  Typical -$ -$ -$

  * * *

  It was annoying to have to cough up all that cash, but it felt GREAT to have a phone again. This time around, I wouldn’t let my Whiz BangTM out of my sight (even more than the first time)! And I was going to keep my Precious safe.

  So the first thing I did was go online to look at phone cases. I thought this would be a pretty easy task, but, boy, was I wrong! There were hundreds—maybe even thousands—of different cases! And each one had all these cool special features.

  There were shatterproof ones, which were so strong that you could drop your phone off the top of the Eiffel Tower without it breaking. There were waterproof cases, which were guaranteed to protect your phone under ten thousand leagues of water. There were glow-in-the-dark cases, which made finding your phone at night a snap. There were Velcro cases, which could keep your phone in place in your purse or backpack.

  They even had a phone case “glove,” which stuck to your hand so you never needed to put your phone down. I seriously considered that one, but there were some pretty big everyday drawbacks, TBH.

  Then there was one SUPER-AWESOME PHONE CASE that had all of the above, plus a small pair of scissors, flashlight, USB drive, can opener, key ring, tweezers, and nail file. And it had koalas on the cover!

  Koalas!!!!!!

  Who could resist such cuteness?

  Not me.

  On the bus the next morning, I overheard some older girls in front of me talking about videos that were trending online.

  “Did you see that new SkaterBoi video on Tubular?” the first girl asked.

  “It was so good! He’s my favorite!” said the second. “I could watch his videos all day!”

  “Yeah. It’s crazy to think he went viral overnight,” said the first girl. “Can you imagine what that’s like?”

  “Seriously,” said the second. “One day you’re just a normal kid, and the next day you’re a celebrity heartthrob.”

  “I hear he’s going to have his own television show,” the first girl said.

  “Maybe he’ll get a movie deal?” the second one suggested hopefully.

  I hadn’t heard of SkaterBoi, but if these cool older girls were into him, I should definitely check him out. I did a search on Tubular, a video-sharing site. It turned out SkaterBoi was a teenage skateboarder with an insane number of followers. (And I did a quick search—none were clowns.)

  He had a bunch of silly videos of himself doing random things, like skateboarding down a busy city street saying “Hi!” to people. I looked at the comments section below that video.

  Hmm. These girls were really into this guy. That gave me an idea. Maybe the best way for me to become popular was to do something silly, post it on Tubular, and go viral overnight, just like SkaterBoi.

  It was true that I had some experience* as a film director.

  So I decided to shoot a video. What did I have to lose, right? But I needed something to set me apart from the millions of other videos online. In the biz, they call that a “hook.”

  I spent the whole school day trying to come up with creative ideas.

  After a while, I decided I would follow SkaterBoi’s example and record myself saying one thing over and over again.

  But what to say?…Hmm…

  * * *

  I needed some inspiration. I wanted my hook to be classic. Old-school.

  So I looked through my mom’s photo albums. Some of them were from the previous century—the 1970s. (Talk about ancient history!)

  One thing was for certain: people sure dressed weird in the olden days.

  “Who’s this, Mom?” I asked, pointing to a picture.

  “That’s your grandfather,” she said.

  “He was pretty groovy back in the day,” she added.

  Groovy? Talk about an old-school-cool word!

  “Do you want a cupcake?” she asked.

  “That would be groovy,” I said.

  And just like that, I had my hook.

  * * *

  Now all I needed was the perfect location to film my video. Without a location scout, I had to make do with places around my neighborhood—ones I could walk to pretty easily.

  Once I finished filming, I made a fun movie. Then I created a Tubular account (BabymouseXO) and started uploading the video. I waited impatiently.

  10%…20%…30%…40%…50%…60%…70%…80%…90%…

  KNOCK, KNOCK.

  Someone was at my bedroom door.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Squeak,” came the muffled reply.

  “What do you want?”

  He opened the door. “I want to borrow your phone.”

  “Not now, Squeak. I’m uploading a video to Tubular.”

  “Huh?”

  Sigh. “It’s a video-streaming site. You can make movies for people to follow.”

  “Cool!” he said, inviting himself right in. “Will you show me how?”

  I didn’t want to be bothered, but he had just lent me all that money for the phone. I reluctantly agreed and quickly went over the basics with him.

  “Can I borrow your phone tonight?” he asked.

  “Ugh,” I responded.

  “Please?” he asked. “Remember our deal?”

  “Okay, but I need it back first thing tomorrow morning. I mean it.”

  “You got it,” he said.

  Instead of surfing the Web and texting friends, I treated myself to a g
ood, old-fashioned night of pampering. I needed to look great for my big celebrity debut the next day! I daydreamed about how amazing it would be to become famous overnight. The celebrity endorsement and appearance requests would pour in. Everyone would want me to come to parties, benefits, and award shows, just to stand in the middle of a sparkly stage with hot lights and say “Groovy.”

  * * *

  The following morning, I went down for breakfast.

  “Good morning, family,” I announced grandly. “Do you have my phone, Squeak?”

  “Morning, Babymouse,” Mom said. “I’m happy to see you’re sharing with your brother.”

  “Right here!” Squeak smiled at me and passed over my phone.

  The weird thing was, when I got to school, I immediately did feel like a celebrity.

  “There she is!” I heard a girl say.

  “I can’t believe that’s her,” said a boy I didn’t know.

  People were whispering, texting each other, and snapping photos of me from all angles. It was exciting, but also a little weird. I guessed I had better get used to the paparazzi if this was going to become my new life.

  Wilson was waiting for me at my locker. He waved me down frantically.

  “Don’t worry, Wilson. Even though I’m famous now, I will still make time for the little people,” I assured him.

  “Yeah,” he said. “About that. You really may want to rethink that video.”