Nathan stared at the screen for a long time.
“You seem to be at a loss for words,” Allie said. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen. Allie wasn’t even sure he’d blinked. “That’s kind of a new thing for you.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Why are you doing this for me?” he finally asked.
“I’d do anything for my friends,” Allie said with a shrug. “And what can I say? I keep trying to get rid of you, but you just keep coming back. Always in that number one spot.”
Allie rested her lunch tray against one hip and used her free hand to check her jeans pocket. Yep. Her phone was still there. Just like it had been two minutes earlier.
Relax, she told herself. It’s all good.
As Allie walked to the old oak tree, she looked around the quad. Every once in a while, she’d hear a bloop and see two people walk toward each other and quietly tap their phones together, but it wasn’t like last week. Most people had already reclicked. Now they were forming new groups like “Mercer + Steinbeck” and planning new leaderboard parties after school at the mall, so they could click with kids in nearby towns.
Mr. Mohr stopped as he passed by her. “Congratulations, Ms. Navarro,” he said. “Ms. Slade told me you were brilliant at the Games for Good competition.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mohr. But…I didn’t compete. And I didn’t win.”
He kept walking. “I know that, too.”
Allie smiled to herself and continued to her table. When she arrived, Emma and Zoe scooted over to make room, and she sat down between them. Then she looked across the table at Maddie. And then at Chris, who was sitting next to her. He whispered something in her ear, and Maddie blushed and scooted closer to him.
Allie pressed her hands flat against the table. “Best. Street. Team. Ever.”
“It’s working?” Maddie asked.
“Perfectly. I’ve heard people talking about Built in every one of my classes today, and when I saw Nathan before school started this morning, he said his user base skyrocketed overnight.”
“Is he out here?” Emma asked, scanning the quad. “I’m dying to show him my neighborhood. I’ve already built twelve houses and my karma points are going through the roof!” She laughed loudly. “No pun intended.”
Allie scanned the quad. Nathan wasn’t sitting at any of the tables. He wasn’t over on the grass near the parking lot. She glanced behind her. She could see Cory and Mark sitting at one of the tables next to the basketball court, but he wasn’t with them, either.
“Oh, there’s Ajay,” Zoe said. “I’m going to go say hi.”
Allie watched her walk away, still trying to figure out why Nathan wasn’t out in the quad. He had no reason to be in the lab. But she had a sinking feeling he was. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she stood, leaving her lunch on the table.
She turned on her heel and started walking through the quad. A bunch of people stopped her along the way.
“It’s better than ever,” one guy said.
“I’m so glad it’s fixed,” a girl at another table told her.
“That was the longest weekend ever!” another girl said. “Please don’t let that happen again.” She laughed and gave Allie a high five.
“I won’t,” Allie said.
Then Allie felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and found Claire Friedman standing there, bouncing in place. “I’m so glad you’re my seven again! And I love the new groups feature. Very cool.”
“Thanks,” Allie said.
“Do you want to sit with us?” she asked as she pointed over at her table. “My friends are dying to meet you.”
But Allie gestured in the opposite direction. “Maybe another time. I need to find someone.”
Claire took off, and Allie continued on. As grateful as she was to have so many happy users, she knew there were plenty of unhappy former users, too. Tucked into her backpack, she had a printed list of everyone who had downloaded and deleted Click’d, and she was on a personal mission to find each one and apologize before the week was over.
Allie opened the door to the computer lab. She hoped she wouldn’t see Nathan there, but she spotted him right away, hanging out with Agnes. He had his headphones over his ears, head-bobbing in time with the music.
She fell into the seat next to him, and he wrapped his headphones around the back of his neck.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked.
“Watching,” he said as he pointed at his monitor. Allie scooted her chair closer. He had a bird’s-eye view of the whole game. He could see all the players running around the neighborhood with their avatar names in little bubbles above their heads. There were hundreds of them.
“These aren’t test characters.” He tapped his finger on the glass. “Real, actual people are making them move and build and buy things.” He turned to her. “There are real people playing my game. Can you believe that?”
“Yeah, I can totally believe that.”
“And look at this.” Nathan switched screens and his browser filled with news stories he’d collected from a Google search. She read the headlines.
Playing for Good
Teens Change the Game
What a Difference a Game Makes
“These articles have been coming in all day, and every single one includes screenshots and the download link for Built.”
He opened an article that included a photo of the developers onstage, side by side, and Allie felt another pang of sadness. She wished so badly that she could have been up there with them. If she’d only let Nathan help her back in the lab on Friday, he might have noticed her mistake. The two of them might have had it fixed by lunchtime. She might have been in that picture.
But there was no sense thinking about it now.
Nathan seemed to read her mind, or maybe he caught the expression on her face, because he closed the window quickly and said, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Allie shook it off. “It’s okay. Really.” She tipped her chin toward the monitor. “How many downloads?”
Nathan switched back to his game and pointed to the number in the corner. “Seven hundred sixty-four.”
The two of them sat there for a few minutes, watching his screen, completely mesmerized by a group of players gathered around one house, working together to paint it bright blue.
“Hey,” Allie said. “I know you’re thrilled that real people are playing Built, but do you know where else there are real people?” She tipped her head toward the door. “Outside. In the quad. There’s also this thing called sun.” She formed a circle with her hands. “Big yellow thing. Hangs out in the sky during the day. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
Nathan kicked his heels up on the desk, crossed one ankle over the other, and leaned back against the wall. “Eh…sun, shmun. I like it in here. It’s quiet. And we have snacks.” He reached for his bag of microwave popcorn and stuffed a handful into his mouth.
Allie took the bag away and set it on her side of the table, out of his reach.
“You need to get out of here, Nathan. Go to the quad. Find your friends. Trust me on this.” She gestured toward the door again.
He shook his head. “No thanks.”
Allie leaned in closer. “Why not?”
He didn’t say anything for almost a full minute. And then he shrugged. “I don’t even know where I’d go.”
Allie felt like her heart might break into a million little pieces.
“I saw Cory and Mark on my way here. They’re down on the blacktop, sitting at a table next to the basketball courts.”
He forced a laugh. “And what am I supposed to do, sit down and join them?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Because I’ve barely talked to them in over a year. We say hi in the halls and stuff, but it’s not like I can sit down and start chatting like we’re all old friends.”
“But you are old friends. You’ve known them all your life. You’ll see. Once you s
it down it will be easy. Maybe you’ll bloop and Click’d will break the ice. And if you don’t, just ask them about their weekends. Tell them about yours. Show them your game, tell them about the competition, and talk about all your new users and the news coverage you’re getting today. You’re famous! You’re like Zayn, but better. You’re Naaaate.” She drew out the name and he turned toward her and smiled.
“You make it sound easy,” he said.
“It will be. I promise.” Allie rested her elbows on her knees and leaned in closer to him. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
Nathan sighed as he took off his headphones and dropped them on his desk. “Fine.”
He followed Allie out of the lab and into the hallway. They walked in silence until they reached the quad, and then they stood under the awning in the shade, scanning the scene. Allie spotted Cory and Mark, still at the same table on the blacktop.
“See, they’re right down there,” she said, but when she looked over at Nathan, all the color seemed to have drained from his face, making him look like he had twice as many freckles as usual.
“Lunch is almost over now. I’ll go up to them tomorrow.” He started to walk away, but Allie grabbed his arm.
“There’s still fifteen minutes.” She wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. “Nate.” He locked his eyes on her. “You can do this.”
“I’m ridiculously nervous.” He held his hand out in front of him, and she could see it trembling.
Allie rested her hand on the back of his. She wrapped her fingers around it.
“On the count of three,” she said.
He drew in a breath. “One.”
“Two.”
“Three,” he said, and she dropped his hand.
“Go.”
She watched him walk across the quad and down the steps that led to the blacktop. He ran his hand through his hair a few times and adjusted his T-shirt. At one point, he stopped, and she wondered if he was going to turn around and chicken out. But he kept walking.
When he got close enough, he stopped. He said something, and Cory and Mark turned around. They smiled. And then they scooted over to make room between them.
Some dads teach their kids how to build a car; mine taught me how to build a computer. Back in Silicon Valley in the early ’80s, my dad oversaw and often worked on assembly lines, manually building the very first PCs. He often brought his work home with him, and when he did, I got to help (and make a little extra money). We’d spend hours out in the garage at night and on weekends, where he taught me how to crimp wires, solder them to the motherboard, and then test each connection to be sure it passed quality control. It wasn’t easy. My hands hurt after a while. And it was beyond frustrating when a component would fail and I’d have to take it apart and start all over. But honestly…I loved the work. And when he gave me a brand-new IBM 5150 and told me I’d built it, I was bursting with pride. So, thank you, Dad, for putting a soldering iron in your eleven-year-old daughter’s hands. You not only taught me how to build things, you taught me how to fail. And how to start over. And how to keep going until I eventually got it right.
I’ve wanted to write a book that celebrated my inner geek for so many years! In addition to my dad, I need to thank a few other important geeks in my life, like Ed Niehaus, who gave me my first job in public relations and taught me how to merge my love of writing with my love for all things tech-y. Thanks to Molly Davis and Stacy Peña, two of the smartest people I’ve ever met, for going on a great big adventure with me to start a business all our own. Every single day, I’m proud of what we built together. And to Mike, my very favorite geek in the whole world. We never would have met if it weren’t for our shared fascination with the tech world, so for all the amazing and life-changing experiences this industry has given me, I’m most thankful that it gave me the love of my life.
My kids inspire all my stories, but I see them in the pages of this one more than any of the others. I’d describe Allie and Nathan as strong, determined, bighearted, big-thinking, funny, and most importantly, kind. It’s no coincidence that I’d use those same words to describe my kids. Aidan and Lauren: Thank you for being exactly who you are. I love every little thing about you.
I’ve had a blast writing this book, and that’s largely because I got to work with a bunch of wise and wonderful people throughout the process. Huge thanks and barrels of popcorn to everyone at Disney Hyperion, especially Julie Rosenberg, for her brilliant insights, clear guidance, and superhuman patience; Hannah Allaman, for her many ideas that made this book much better; and to Emily Meehan, for her unwavering support and enthusiasm every step of the way. I’m not sure how I got so lucky to work with the three of you, but I never take it for granted.
The graphics throughout this book made it especially tricky to copyedit, but Mark Amundsen, Rebecca Behrens, Dan Kaufman, and Guy Cunningham paid close attention to every single detail. Thank you for caring about the big and little things.
Everyone on the marketing team is sharp, kind, and so much fun to work with. Thank you to Elke Villa, Holly Nagel, Maggie Penn, Sadie Hillier, and Andrew Sansone for all you do. Special thanks to Dina Sherman, who so passionately shares my novels with teachers and librarians—and thanks to those teachers and librarians who, in turn, so passionately share them with readers. You’re all rock stars.
I’m so grateful to my hardworking publicists Seale Ballenger and Cassie McGinty, for shouting from the rooftops about Click’d, and to Phil Caminiti for designing this super-fun cover that makes me smile every time I see it.
Now that my agent, Caryn Wiseman, and I have been together for six years and five books, I can say with absolute certainty that I couldn’t possibly do this work without her. I’m grateful for all she does, and so proud to be part of the Andrea Brown Literary Agency family.
And last but never least, special thanks to my young readers. Every time I meet you online or in the real world, you impress and inspire me. It’s an absolute privilege to write for you. Thank you for reading my stories.
Turn the page to try out some
fun coding activities from
Code.org!
BINARY BRACELETS
INTRODUCTION
Wires carry information through computers in the form of electricity. Most computers communicate information using a set of two options, like “on” and “off,” or “positive” and “negative.” This is called a “binary” language. Everything a computer does is represented through a set of information coded in binary. In this activity, you can use two colors of beads to represent your name using the Binary Decoder Key included below.
MATERIALS
Thread
Two colors of seed beads
(enough to use eight for each letter of your name)
DIRECTIONS
Sort your beads by color.
Choose one color to represent the black squares (off) and one color to represent the white squares (on) in the Binary Decoder Key.
Find the first letter of your first name in the key and follow the pattern by putting the beads on the thread in the order shown on the key, while pinching one end of the thread to keep the beads in place.
Repeat step three until you’ve spelled out your entire name in binary.
Tie both ends of the thread together to keep the beads on your binary bracelet in place.
You’ve just learned how to store your name to your wrist, just like a computer stores information to its drives! If you’d like, you can make bracelets or necklaces featuring any word or phrase.
This activity is adapted with permission from a lesson by Code.org that is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. The original version can be found here: https://code.org/curriculum/course2/14/Teacher
DICE RACE GAME
INTRODUCTION
An algorithm is a list of steps that you can follow to finish a task. Computers need algorithms and programs to show them how to do even simple things that
we can do without thinking about them. Because of that, it can be challenging to describe something that comes naturally to you in enough detail for a computer to replicate. To begin to understand how that’s done, you can use algorithms to help describe things that people do every day. In this two-person activity, you can create an algorithm to describe how to play the Dice Race Game.
MATERIALS
Dice
Pens or pencils
Paper
DIRECTIONS
Copy the below diagram onto a sheet of paper. Leave enough room at the bottom to write your own algorithm.
Both players start the game with no points. They each take turns rolling the dice and recording the total of their roll, adding the new number to their old score each turn. The highest score after three turns wins!
Play a couple rounds of the Dice Race game. As you’re playing, think about how you would describe everything you’re doing. What would it look like from the computer’s point of view?
Once you’re done playing, write down your own algorithm for how a computer might run the game and compare it with your partner’s algorithm. How are they similar, and how are they different? Work together to create one algorithm that you and your partner think best describes the Dice Race.
This activity is adapted with permission from a lesson by Code.org that is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. The original version can be found here: https://code.org/curriculum/course3/10/Teacher
For more lessons, activities, and information about coding, visit Code.org.
TAMARA IRELAND STONE
(www.TamaraIrelandStone.com) is the author of Time and Time Again, a collection of her two novels Time Between Us and Time After Time, and the New York Times best seller Every Last Word. A Silicon Valley native, she has worked in the technology industry all her life, first testing Atari game boards in her parents’ garage, and later, cofounding a woman-owned marketing strategy firm where she worked with some of the world’s largest software companies. She enjoys skiing, hiking, and spending time with her husband and two children. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.
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