Just then, I heard a phone vibrate behind me and I heard the girl say, “Yeah, ok, I know you don’t like to text. Sorry, I forget.” She laughed, then said, “Some lame voiceover just told us to turn our phones off. Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.” She paused, then after a few moments, said, “Yeah, see you there. Hopefully I’ll get out of jail by then. I hope your dad gets it fixed.” She looked at me, rolled her eyes, and turned around. The conversation continued.
The first “station” was an oblong table where four ladies sat in blue t-shirts with the words “Tech in Action” printed on them. I waited until one of them called me up, stepped forward, and pulled an envelope that contained my paperwork out of my backpack. I read the lady’s nametag. Her name was Fran.
“Tess Turner,” she said, as the lady next to her checked my name off a list and began assembling yet more paperwork which she handed to me, along with a blue folder.
“Keep all your orientation materials in this,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder without looking at me. “Make sure you read everything thoroughly. Station 2 is over there.” She gestured to her right, and I glanced over her shoulder, where I noticed a group of students passing through two vertical poles, about four feet apart, that resembled an airport metal detector. A short, fat man in uniform waved a wand over each person then signaled them through. I felt a little lurch in my stomach.
I wanted to ask, “What’s that?” but I figured it was pointless. I’d find out soon enough, and besides, people were waiting. I gathered my folder, stuffed it in my backpack, and shuffled to the next station.
The man in uniform also had a nametag and it said “Ernie.”
“Hi Ernie,” I said.
He looked bored. “Mornin,’” was all he said.
There was one student in front of me, and nothing was happening. So instead of just standing there, I looked at Ernie and said. “I feel like I’m in the airport,” immediately feeling silly for saying it. The guy in front of me glanced back, shifted his feet.
Ernie gave me the same bored expression, indicating that he’d heard that same comment about a million times.
Just then, another Blue T-Shirt Lady jogged across the linoleum, wiping her hands on her khakis. “Thanks, Ernie,” she said, and then looked at the guy in front of me. “Had to visit the little girl’s room.” Little girl’s room? I thought. Do people really still say that?
By then, more students had gotten in line behind me. I didn’t recognize a single face. A few people looked at me, though, like they thought they knew me. But then they just looked away.
“Welcome,” she said. “The device before you is called an Accu-Read. It’s a scan recognition system that records and stores your dental profile for proper identification and entry into the campus system. Think of it as an anatomical password that allows you access not only into the physical campus, but also the virtual campus.”
She paused, as if expecting a barrage of questions. Personally, I had about a hundred of them, but I wasn’t about to speak up first. When no one said anything, she continued. “The system is currently in setup mode, during which each student is profiled and entered into the system. The first thing you need to do is locate the silver card located inside the blue folder given to you at Station 1. That card contains your personal information, name, address, year in school, etc. You will then be asked to step through the vertical profilers and slip the card into the slot located on your right. You will then hear three short beeps. On the third beep, you will be instructed to look into the lens positioned on the podium directly in front of you and smile. The system will automatically scan your dental profile and log it into the database. Again, today, we are in setup mode. The procedure will be very similar when you come to log on the first day of school. The only difference is that there will actually be six Accu-Read stations instead of just one, and you will hear a fourth beep for entry. If you are denied entry, you will hear a buzzer instead of a beep. If there are no questions, we'll get started with the set up. ”
I heard a few mumbles, some restless groans. The thought of having to smile into a machine every day to get into school was really annoying.
Some guy in the back piped up, “We have to do this every day?”
Blue T-Shirt Lady smiled patiently. “Yes, but believe me, it’s a small inconvenience compared to all the benefits of the system.”
“Like what?” Someone else scoffed under her breath. Suddenly, everyone was speaking at once.
“Hold on, hold on,” she said. “That’s why you’re here today. You’re going to find out about all the neat stuff during orientation class. Right now, we have to move. You sir,” she pointed at the guy in front of me. “Step forward.”
“Dang prison,” someone muttered.
When it was my turn, I stepped up, held my card ready, and inserted it. I heard three beeps and looked straight ahead, smiled.
Feeling a little nervous and disturbed by the morning’s events, I was relieved to find that Station 3 was quick and painless, and that the next stop was a classroom where I could sit down. The classroom was a brightly lit computer lab, and it was already half full of students. I walked in and the instructor at the front told me to sit wherever I wanted, so I went straight to the empty row in the back. A few students glanced at me, but most of them were already engrossed in their computers, web browsing, and checking e-mail. A few of them had headphones on. They seem to take their technology very seriously around here, I thought, feeling even more like a fish out of water. After all, it was just last year that I’d gotten my very first computer.
I chose a computer and sat down, taking out my notebook and glasses. I didn’t really like them, but they made me look smarter. At least if I felt nervous or confused, I wouldn’t look like I was. I glanced to the front of the room and noticed the login and password was written on the board. I pulled out the keyboard, ready to key in the login information, but the system had already logged me in. Oh well, I thought, maybe someone already logged this one in and then moved to another seat.
A few more students trickled in, and finally, the instructor stood up and instructed everyone to log on, that we would begin in five minutes. But I wasn’t paying much attention to her; I was busy watching the guy who’d just dashed in the door and was making his way toward me. The first thing I noticed was how tall he was, and then I started to get nervous because I thought he was going to sit right next to me and start talking to me, and I really did not want to talk to anybody—especially not a cute guy who looked like he might actually be taller than me. I stared at my blank computer screen―looking up just in time to see him flash a smile.
I smiled back, nodded, and opened my mouth to say hello when all of a sudden, he looked over and recognized another friend two rows over … a cute girl with short, stylish hair and a strappy tank top. Figures.
The girl waved him over, patting the empty chair next to her. I was staring at my computer screen, trying to seem uninterested. When I glanced up, the girl was twirling her hair, her mouth drawn up in a mock pout. She waved him over again.
He looked at me briefly, shrugged apologetically, and dashed over next to the girl when the instructor’s back was turned. I watched them chat quietly, heads close, and sighed. I was actually glad he hadn’t sat down by me after all. What the heck would I have said to him anyway?
Just then, a girl with a long brown ponytail and glasses sat down next to me.
“Hi, I’m Christy. Christy Barnes. Remember?”
She sort of looked familiar, but I couldn’t say for sure. “We sat next to each other in second grade. I remember you.”
“Oh yeah,” I lied. “Christy. How’s it going?”
“Everyone calls me Cricket,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Hi Cricket,” I said, shaking her extended hand.
“Nice to meet you—again,” she said with a
broad smile. “It won’t take long for you to find your way around,” she said, eyeing me up and down with a quick appraisal. “Ooh, love your shoes! Way cool.”
A picture of Dani, running up to me, her hair in ponytails, shorter than me. I love your shoes, she’d said.
And just like that, I’d made a friend. The same way I’d met Dani. It was a good sign. I smiled. “Thanks!”
A Dream
After orientation, Cricket and I stood on the front steps to the school, waiting for our parents. We watched as most of our classmates went straight for the parking lot to get in their cars. The end of the month couldn’t come soon enough—when I would finally have my license and could drive myself to and from school. Cricket already had her license, but her parents refused to let her take the car. I hoped I could convince my parents to let me—after all, they were anxious for me to feel normal again, too.
Cricket tossed a piece of gum in her mouth, offered me some. She chewed loudly, shrugging. “Well that was ultra-boring,” she said, popping her gum. “I can’ believe we have to go through that scanner thing every day. How lame is that? It’s like we’re criminals or something.”
The sun felt really hot after being in a cool, dim building all day, and it was so bright it made my eyes ache. I put on my sunglasses and nodded in agreement. “Maybe it won’t be so bad once we get used to it. And the homework download thing was cool,” I said.
Cricket rolled her eyes. “They’ll probably just use it as an excuse to give us more. I mean, technology, by definition, means increased productivity, right? And that’s pretty much what we’re here for.”
I couldn’t argue with her logic, but I laughed. “No, we’re here to become educated, well-rounded citizens, right?”
“Don’t you mean robots?” Cricket said with a sardonic smile.
It was official. I decided then and there that I was going to like Cricket. She was smart, but a little on the quirky side. “Hey, robots are cool,” I said.
Cricket snickered. “They are cool.”
“Way,” I said.
Just then, Tall Guy bounded out of the building with Strappy Tank Girl. At the sidewalk, they separated. He went to the bicycle rack, started fiddling with the lock. She joined a circle of girls. I could have sworn he glanced in our direction once, but it was probably just my mind playing tricks again. Still, I watched him intently from behind my sunglasses, making sure to keep my head turned toward Cricket. But Cricket was watching him, too.
“Such a shame,” Cricket said “All that hotness wasted.”
“What do you mean?” Hot is an understatement.
“That’s Zach Webb. He’s a senior. Totally cute but uber weird.” She said, shaking her head. “I mean, he doesn’t speak.”
“So maybe he’s shy,” I said with a shrug.
“Or maybe he’s a vampire,” Cricket said, grabbing my arm with an evil grin, bearing her teeth.
“Yeah, right. He’s probably just not used to it here yet.”
“Ooh, that’s it!” Cricket said, snapping her gum. “He’s an alien. A non-adapted alien. You’ve solved the mystery.”
“Oh stop. He looks normal to me,” I said, watching as Zach got on his bike, glancing in our direction briefly. “And he is sort of cute.”
Nearby, three girls were standing in a tight circle laughing, twirling their hair. Strappy Tank Girl glanced over her shoulder toward Zach and rolled her eyes. The Beautiful People. Zach didn’t seem to care; in fact, he actually looked bored. I couldn’t figure out why Strappy Tank was practically in his lap inside the classroom, and now it was like she didn’t even know who he was. I felt sort of sorry for him, except he looked so apathetic and relaxed; I decided not to waste my time. He stood there for minute, hands on the grips of his bike. Then he looked at us—a definite glance.
“He doesn’t look that interested anyway. If you ask me.”
“Well, he’s like uber smart and she’s the biggest flake in school. Not exactly a match made in heaven.”
“He’s smart?” I asked.
Cricket turned dramatically and nudged me with an elbow. “You like him. Aw. Zach and Tess… has a nice ring to it.”
My cheeks burned. “I just asked if he was smart, that’s all.”
“He’s way smart. A virtual twelve on the Weird O’ Meter,” Cricket said. “But I gotta admit he’s cute,” she added, with a sigh.
“Way cute,” I blurted out.
Cricket gasped, nudged me again. “I knew it. You do like him.”
Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut? I thought. “I just said he was cute,” I repeated.
“You know, denial is the first sign of a problem,” she said, with mock authority. “Hey, there’s my mom,” she said, starting down the stairs. “Call me if you wanna get together before school starts or something,” she said. “I’m free whenever. I get sooo bored stuck at home with my mom.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I replied. “My parents drive me crazy.”
Those girls were still standing in a circle near the bike rack as Cricket jogged by them. One of them made a chirping sound. I cringed. What a bunch of brats, I thought. Cricket didn’t skip a beat, zipping past. “Get a life,” she called out. I silently cheered her on. Way to go, Cricket, way to go.
When I saw my mom’s white van pulling into the lane, I realized I was going to have to pass by the Beautiful People, too. I gauged how far to the left I could walk without making my avoidance obvious. But Cricket had inspired me, and I plopped my hat on my head and walked straight toward them instead. I was so busy being cocky that I didn’t notice, at first, that Zach was walking toward me, smiling. The others stood laughing and talking. One of the girls placed her hand on her hip, her mouth open to say something. He must be just going back in to get something he forgot, I thought. As he got closer, he smiled and opened his mouth to say something at the exact moment that I felt someone whiz by and bump my arm. My folder and all its contents lay scattered on the ground. I bent down to pick them up, noticing someone else close by with his hand on my folder. I stood up. It was another guy in one of those blue shirts with a nametag that read 'Alex, Student Volunteer.'
“I’m sorry. Are you ok?” He asked as he handed me the papers.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” I looked around for Zach, but he had disappeared.
Alex smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Talk about embarrassing. I kept walking toward the curb where my mom was waiting. Alex followed alongside. As we passed by the Beautiful People, one of the girls looked over her shoulder and said, “Hey Alex, great job today!” She curled up her lip and glared at me, then turned away.
One of the guys reached out and punched Alex jovially on the arm. “Brown noser!”
“Yeah, when you’re stuck here on the last day of school, I’ll be on the river,” Alex said.
The girls giggled. “No doubt,” one of them said.
“As Student Body President, I get the last day of school off for volunteering throughout the year—in exchange for my speech at graduation, of course,” Alex explained as we neared the curb. “Senior float trip.”
“You’re a senior?”
“Yep, on my way out. How about you?”
“Sophomore.”
“You’re new, right?”
“Well, sort of, yeah….”
“I’ll show you around sometime if you want,” he said, jogging down the sidewalk. “Just look me up on Facebook,” he replied. “My e-mail’s there.”
“Thanks,” I called out. I smiled, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. I had made not one, but two friends in one day. And, the Beautiful People obviously liked Alex. He was a good person to have on my side.
For some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about Zach, even as I sat at my computer desk that night, browsing Alex’s FB page. Was he coming to talk to me
outside the school earlier that day? No way. Why would he walk up to a complete stranger? That sort of stuff never happens to me. Zach was cute, though … utterly gorgeous if you want to know the truth. He looked familiar, somehow, but I wasn't sure why. I sighed. He probably has a girlfriend, someone as smart and good looking as he was. Someone as tall as he was. That’s why he seemed so lonely and mysterious. He would never be interested in me, I thought. His girlfriend was probably one of those really nice girls that wore skirts all the time and was in a million volunteer clubs or something. I could never compete with that. I twirled my long, black hair, feeling it slide through my fingers. I was already dreading the first day of school. But at least I had already met two people. I could tell Cricket and I were going to be good friends and Alex seemed pretty cool, too.
I thought about e-mailing Alex, but I was really tired and thinking about Cricket just made me think about Dani. That just made me want to cry, so I closed out Facebook, with my measly 25 friends, and decided to go to bed early.
That night, I couldn’t help myself. I drifted off daydreaming about Zach, which eventually turned into yet another dream:
I was sitting at the food court table at the mall, behind my sunglasses, except they were three times the normal size. For a split second, I saw myself from afar, like an out of body experience or something, sitting there with my wiry hair, looking like a big bug. I drummed my fingers on the table, bored. Some guy at the table next to me had his head practically buried in a laptop. I could see the top of his totally bald head. Then I saw him. Zach. He was dressed in a plain white t-shirt, dark pants, dark sunglasses, towering over a table full of people, gesturing as they all listened intently. He looked worried, concerned, as if looking for something or someone. His movements became more and more dramatic. He threw up his hands and then put his head down as if to think deeply.
My ears popped, and my head pounded. A flash of light. Then it was like I saw him in my mind’s eye. I could see what was in his mind.
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