The Renegade Reporters

by Elissa Brent Weissman

  “Van Ness Media sponsors our school news show,” Brielle explained. “Maria Van Ness made a special video just for our school. They’re letting us be the beta users for Van Ness Dream Journal. Everyone’s super excited. If we go reporting bad news about them, how do you think it will look?”

  Maya gaped at her. “Truthful?” she tried.

  “Maya’s right,” Ash said, determinedly peeling her semi-spotted banana. “We have to report it. All these people think what they put in this new program is private. But it’s not. Don’t you think they have a right to know?”

  “Honestly?” Brielle said with a frown. “I don’t think people care.”

  “They’d care if they knew!” Maya cried.

  Brielle shrugged. “Probably not. Google and TikTok and Instagram and YouTube, which our show is on—they’re all collecting and selling information about everyone, and nothing changes because nobody really cares. What will happen if we go live with our news?” Maya opened her mouth to respond, but Brielle cut her off with “What will really happen, Maya? Will people stop using Van Ness Media? Probably not. Will the three of us get in trouble? One hundred percent.”

  Ash hadn’t considered it that way. It felt like Brielle had thrown cold water at her. “We got kicked off The News at Nine because the dancing gym teacher video made Van Ness Media look bad,” she said nervously. “And this makes Van Ness Media look much worse.”

  “If I get kicked off The News at Nine,” Brielle added, “I might as well rip up my BSA application, and there goes my filmmaking career.”

  Maya looked like she was about to cry. But she didn’t. She sat up straighter and spoke firmly, looking Brielle right in the eye. “What’s the point of becoming a filmmaker if you’re not going to make videos that matter? And maybe you’re right, and people won’t care, but they at least have a right to know what’s happening.” She took a breath, but she wasn’t done. “I’m going to get our report out there somehow, even if I have to record and edit it myself.”

  Ash stared, speechless, at her best friend. Maya had always been there for her, silent but supportive, holding a camera so that Ash could talk to the world. Now Maya had found something she wanted to say—no, needed to say. It was only fair that Ash make sure she could say it.

  “I’m with you,” Ash said. “We’ll probably get in trouble, but we need to do it anyway.”

  Maya beamed and hugged Ash from the side. They both looked at Brielle.

  The editor sighed. She shook her head. But then she said, “All right. I’m with you too.” She held out her hands to ward off a hug, adding, “There’s no need to get all extra about it.”

  “Holy moly!” Maya cried, collapsing dramatically onto her lunchbox. “Thank goodness. There’s no way I could have done this on my own.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Reporters Report to Principal’s Office

  Deciding to report the news was one thing. Being able to report it was another. Brielle logged into Maya’s Van Ness Media account that night, but when she uploaded what she had of the report, the error messages started again, and it wasn’t long until Maya’s account was kicked out of the program, just like Brielle’s. When Brielle texted what happened, Ash tried to open the Movie Maker app on her phone, but it wouldn’t even load. ACCOUNT ERROR, the screen said. CONTACT NETWORK ADMINISTRATOR.

  The girls brought their issues to Ms. Chung first thing the next morning, and Friday, ten minutes before school ended, all three of them were called down to the principal’s office. The last time Ash and Maya were in the principal’s office was in May, right after the video of Coach Kelly had gone viral, and Ash had known a big punishment was coming. The look on Mr. Carver’s face now made it clear that he had not forgotten about what happened last school year, and a punishment might be coming again. Ash didn’t know why he’d be angry with them now, but she still got the heavy feeling through her body that she’d gotten in May. It might have even been worse, because Brielle had warned that they’d get in trouble, and here they were, including Brielle.

  “Ms. Chung spoke with someone at Van Ness Media today,” Mr. Carver said. “According to them, all three of your accounts have been”—he glanced at a Post-it note on his desk—“temporarily suspended for violating the terms of service.”

  Mr. Carver could have said their accounts had accidentally unleashed an ancient curse, Ash was so shocked and scared. This meant the error messages weren’t just a coincidence, and they weren’t because the files were too big. It had to be what the files contained.

  Was it against the rules to use Van Ness Media to say negative things about Van Ness Media? Did it say that in the terms of service? Ash had no idea, because the terms of service document was just as long and incomprehensible as the privacy policy.

  “Given your history,” Mr. Carver said sternly, looking at Ash and then Maya, “I would have thought you’d know better than to record inappropriate videos again.”

  “We didn’t record anything inappropriate,” Ash promised.

  “Then why is our educational media provider saying you violated their rules?”

  The three girls looked at one another, and Mr. Carver clearly took that as an admission of guilt. “I know Van Ness programs are fun, but that doesn’t mean there are no rules. Students must adhere to their terms of service.”

  “Do you know what the terms of service say,” Ash asked, her reporter instincts taking over, “or who agreed to them?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Miss Simon-Hockheimer.”

  “I’m not—I’m just—” Ash didn’t know how to phrase her question without sounding like she was talking back, but she desperately needed to ask it. “Do you know who agreed to the terms of service? Because, um, a friend of mine tried to sign up at home, and an adult had to approve it.”

  “I—I don’t know,” the principal said, clearly caught off guard by the question. “Someone from the district headquarters, I suppose. You’d have to talk to North Avenue.” Then he stopped, seeming to remember that he was in charge of this meeting, not Ash. “The point,” he said firmly, “is that you must use the software appropriately. I don’t know what you put in your Van Ness Media accounts, but it must have been pretty serious to warrant this action. We’ve never had this happen before in all the years we’ve been using this software.”

  Maya started to cry. Ash took her hand, letting the news sink in.

  “So,” Brielle said quietly, “Van Ness Media decided to shut down our accounts because of what we put in them?”

  “Correct,” Mr. Carver said. “Ms. Chung will set you up with temporary guest accounts that you can use until this matter is sorted, but you must use them for your school assignments and nothing else. Is that clear?”

  Maya was still crying, so Mr. Carver handed her a tissue.

  “Van Ness Media knows what we were working on because they’re tracking everything we do!” Ash blurted. “They’re the ones who should be in trouble. They locked us out of our accounts because—”

  “Miss Simon-Hockheimer,” the principal said sharply, cutting her off. “You are in sixth grade now. It’s time to start taking responsibility for your own actions. Last year, you tried to blame the incident with Coach Kelly on everyone but yourself. Now you’re trying to blame this on Van Ness Media.”

  “They’re selling our information to advertisers!” Ash said desperately, jumping up.

  Ash’s team all nodded, but Mr. Carver shook his head. “Van Ness Media software is free of advertising.”

  “It’s true,” Brielle pleaded. “If you look at what we were working on, you’ll see.”

  “All of your files are under review at Van Ness Media,” the principal replied, “while they decide if you violated the terms of service.”

  Maya let out a shaky breath.

  “They won’t let you see what we were working on?” Ash asked, slowly lowering herself b
ack into her chair. She could almost laugh, it was so outrageous.

  “I’m not sure I want to, to be frank. They don’t think anyone should see what you were ‘working on,’ and I’m sure they have a good reason.”

  Yeah, Ash thought. Because they don’t want anyone to know what we know. Especially not school principals.

  The bell rang. School was over. Apparently, so was this meeting. Mr. Carver walked to the door and opened it.

  “Ms. Chung will have your temporary usernames and passwords tomorrow. If you don’t use them appropriately, you will not only be suspended from Van Ness Media. You could be suspended from school.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Surprise Sighting in Park

  The Renegade Reporters stood in the middle of the hallway while kids poured past them on their way out of school. It was Friday, which meant Brielle didn’t have The News at Nine, but now they couldn’t work on The Underground News either. They walked, zombie-like, to get their backpacks and then outside. Ash texted Olive to say they’d be late, and the three girls wandered silently around the neighborhood until they found themselves at Federal Hill Park.

  It was a cool, cloudy day. The wind on the hill only added to their negative energy. The playground was nearly empty, so the three girls sat on the swings, which hung too low for them to actually swing, making it a fitting place to wallow in disillusionment.

  “He didn’t let us explain,” Brielle said. “He didn’t even want to look at our video.”

  “They’re spying on us,” Maya said, “and they’re selling our personal information, and now they’re going to stop us from reporting it.”

  “They say they want kids to create things,” Ash said, “but they won’t let us create anything important. Are we just supposed to report on stupid stuff like the dog poo bandit?”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, the tops of their shoes scraping the ground and Maya letting out the occasional sniffle. Ash looked at the city skyline. That usually cheered her up, but today the buildings were wrapped in clouds, which made them look as gray as she felt.

  A dog appeared on the edge of the playground. It stopped by the fence and barked, making all three girls look up. It was a Saint Bernard, huge and white with a brown patch that made it look like it was wrapped in a blanket. The dog barked again and ran around to the flag pole. Ash felt a jolt of recognition. She’d seen that dog before: in that exact spot, in the photo on the Van Ness Media website. The photo where Maria Van Ness had posed with her own Saint Bernard. And again in Harry’s “exclusive” video. The one in which Maria Van Ness announced Van Ness Dream Journal.

  “Bernard!” came a woman’s voice from behind the fence. “Come here, Bernard.”

  The dog barked and ran back around. A woman’s body rose up over the hill. Her silver hair appeared first. Then her glasses. Her black scarf. Black jacket. Black leggings. Black sneakers.

  Ash grabbed her friends’ hands and squeezed them hard. There was no mistaking it. The woman was Maria Van Ness.

  “Holy moly,” Maya whispered. “What do we do?”

  “Keep facing this way,” Ash whispered back. “Don’t let her see our faces.”

  “Good boy,” the CEO said to Bernard. “Go play.”

  The dog took off around the path, and Maria Van Ness walked up to the fence that surrounded the playground. She leaned against it, not even five feet from the swings, and said, “What a dreary day.”

  Ash was suddenly consumed with so much anger, she could barely contain it. Maria Van Ness was complaining about this day? After what she’d just done to Ash and Maya and Brielle? After what she was doing to all the kids at John Dos Passos and across the country? She thought she had the right to expose what all those kids believed they were doing in private, but the minute someone got close to exposing what she was doing in private, she tried to shut them up? Well, she couldn’t shut Ash up in real life.

  “I’m going to talk to her,” Ash declared.

  “Are you serious?” Brielle asked.

  Ash stood up from her swing.

  “Wait!” Maya said. “Give me your phone.”

  It took a second for Ash to realize what Maya was going to do. Then she looked at Brielle, who nodded. Ash marveled at her friends’ bravery. “Here,” she said, handing over the phone to the camerawoman.

  “Stay close to her, Maya,” the director said quietly. “And try to talk loud, Ash, because of the wind.”

  The anchor nodded, her heart pounding. Maria Van Ness had walked around the path and taken a seat on a bench overlooking Harbor East, her own company’s headquarters viewable across the water. She couldn’t have asked Maya to set up a better shot.

  “Here we go,” Ash said. She set purposefully across the grass until she was standing right behind the CEO. Maya got into position and pressed record. Brielle mouthed, “Go.”

  “Maria Van Ness?” Ash said loudly.

  The CEO turned around.

  “We’re the Renegade Reporters with The Underground News. Is the information kids put in Van Ness Media software kept private?”

  CHAPTER 27

  EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW:

  Maria Van Ness

  “Excuse me?” the CEO said.

  “You claim you make money by selling software, not your users’ attention spans. But our investigation suggests that that’s not true. How do you respond?”

  Maria Van Ness narrowed her eyes behind her glasses. She looked from Ash to Brielle to Maya to the phone she was holding. “Turn that off, please,” Maria Van Ness said.

  Maya’s lip trembled, but she kept recording.

  The CEO rose from the bench and turned to face the news crew. She was tall, and she held her head high and her shoulders back. “Stop recording,” she said calmly but firmly. Her tone reminded Ash that before Maria Van Ness became a software mogul, she was a teacher. The anchor realized she could use that information.

  “You used to be a teacher,” Ash said. “In an interview with CNN, you said that’s why you started Van Ness Media, because you saw how much advertising kids were exposed to in educational software, and you thought you could do better.”

  The CEO raised her eyebrows. She was clearly impressed that Ash had watched her interview. Impressed enough that she seemed to put aside her concern about being recorded. “That’s right,” Maria Van Ness said. “Advertising was everywhere in those programs. I could see that that was where online software was moving. Parents didn’t care about the ads, and kids barely even noticed.”

  “But you said kids are very susceptible to advertising.”

  “Oh yes.” Maria Van Ness sat down and placed an arm on the back of the bench, settling into the interview. “Developing brains are very impressionable. That’s why they’re so valuable to advertisers.”

  “Valuable,” Ash repeated. “Like, worth a lot of money.”

  “Indeed.”

  Ash took a deep breath. “Is that why Van Ness Media gives kids’ information to advertisers?”

  “To make money?” Maria Van Ness laughed. “All companies want to make money.”

  Ash held her breath. It wasn’t a confession, but it wasn’t a denial either. “Including yours?” she pressed. “You said you could do better than those other companies.”

  “Of course I could,” the CEO replied, waving her hand as though shooing away a fly. “The products they were advertising were all wrong. Sugary cereals, toys for the wrong age group. I thought I’d stay out of the whole thing, but I couldn’t let such a valuable opportunity go to waste. I knew I could do better.”

  There it was. In all those interviews, Maria Van Ness made it sound like she’d wanted to protect kids from advertising, when she’d actually wanted to expose them to better, targeted advertising. And she had just admitted it. She’d confessed to everything they’d accused her of. Ash glanced quickly at her team and knew the
y’d all heard the same thing.

  “But, what about privacy?” Ash asked.

  Maria Van Ness’s eyes moved from Ash to Brielle to Maya, a look of recognition slowly washing over her. She stood up. “I know who you are. You’re that girl with the ‘news’ show.” She used her fingers to make quotes in the air around the word news. “Kind of funny to ask me about privacy,” the businesswoman continued, “when you’re a twelve-year-old with her own YouTube channel.”

  That caught Ash off guard. “That—that’s different,” she said. “I choose what to put on my TV show. I know people are going to watch it.”

  “Aren’t you the same girl who recorded that teacher in her underwear?” Maria Van Ness asked, like a teacher leading a discussion about a book. “Did she know people were going to watch that? Millions of people?”

  Ouch. “That . . . that was a mistake. But you . . .” Ash summoned her nerve and stood up straighter, hoping to mimic the CEO’s posture and confidence, but nothing else. “You’re lying to people. And you’re trying to stop us from telling the truth. The three of us—we all just got locked out of our Van Ness Media accounts for violating the terms of service.”

  “Well, that’s a shame.” The CEO frowned, her silver hair blowing in the wind. “I’m not lying to anyone. If you three were using Movie Maker, you agreed to the terms, and to the privacy policy. Not just you, but hundreds of thousands of users, all over the country. It’s all written down for everyone to see.” She walked around the bench, closer to Ash. “Listen, I make the best digital media software for the education market, hands down. Surely, you agree? I’d like to see you make your little show with a different editing program.” She smiled now and leaned against the back of the bench. “Kids use my creations to make things like—what is it?—The Undercover News. And I use their creations to fund the operation and grow the company. Everyone wins.”

  Ash was speechless. Maria Van Ness was serious. She truly didn’t think she was doing anything bad. In fact, she thought she was doing something good.