On Thursday at the Voice office, Michael and I pulled up our files that we’d saved on the desktop at school and at home. Jessica also backed up everyone’s files weekly. Last year we had a near meltdown when we first put the Voice online. There was a power outage just before we were going to post our first online issue, and in one split second we lost everything. We were able to cobble together the issue from e-mailed files and our notes, but it was almost disastrous. So ever since then, we all kept duplicate files and a main weekly Voice backup. I wondered if Jessica was remembering to do that, but it wasn’t really my place to check up on her. Was there a part of me that wanted her to make a mistake? I knew that wasn’t right, but the way she acted like she thought she had the responsibility of Mr. Trigg got on my last nerve.
I wrote the lead and started on the “who” and “what” paragraphs. Most articles had to answer the five W’s—who, what, where, when, and why—and also how. Michael started playing around with some of the “who” and “where” and inserted our quotes. We had quotes now from a lot of teachers. We were both surprised at how much they wanted to participate, not only in the text-free day, but in the input. My math teacher, Mr. Rinaldi, said that he’d enjoyed the text-free day. “I could use more days without all that beeping and buzzing. It’s incredibly distracting, which is why we need rules and limitations for it.” Michael’s language arts teacher was much more pro-texting and said she was considering integrating text messages into her classroom. “We could set up ‘live response’ systems. It could add a whole new and exciting level of communication that kids would really respond to.”
My favorite was from my science teacher, Mrs. Fuller. She said, “I don’t think texting is bad as long as it’s used in productive ways. I could blast-text my students reminders about important tests coming up and due dates. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em! It’s an important piece of technology, and it’s not going away.”
I personally thought she was on the money. Texting definitely wasn’t going away. We needed to work together as a school on better ways to use and handle it, instead of just blocking out something that was only going to have a bigger presence in the future.
As Michael and I were busy piecing things together, Jessica Kelly came in and waved hi to me and Michael.
“How’s it going?” she asked, coming over. She stopped at our computers and leaned over my shoulder, reading the screen. Susannah, the old editor in chief, never did that. She read our pieces when we sent them to her. It was an unwritten writer code that you never read someone’s stuff without asking. I was tempted to cover the screen with my hand. New Editor in Chief Wins Most-Annoying-Person Award. What was she doing? I saw Michael’s shoulders stiffen a bit as Jessica read.
“Is that your lead?” she asked, pointing to my first line on the screen.
“Yes,” I said. What else would it be? I thought.
“Hmmm,” she said, and kept reading.
“What?” I asked, trying not to sound furious, which I was quickly becoming.
“Maybe something with a little more punch?” she said, and then gave what I thought was a fake smile to both of us. “But good work, guys. Keep it coming.” She sat down at another computer across the room. Michael and I looked at each other. I made sure she couldn’t see me, then rolled my eyes.
“Okay, so . . . where were we?” Michael said in an energetic tone, trying to keep us positive and focused. I decided to type a message to him at the bottom of the page, since she would hear me if I said anything to him.
What is up with her? Is it me, or is she a LOT more annoying than Susannah? I typed really fast, then nudged him so he’d look.
He read it and nodded. She is, he wrote. But she has kept things superorganized. She has half the paper up and edited already. Susannah was always rushing to catch up at the last minute.
I’d still take S over her any day, I typed, watched him read, and then erased it all, so she’d never see it. I slumped back in my seat and crossed my arms. Yeah, I’ll give her a lead with more punch! Michael squeezed my shoulder. I smiled and looked at his blue eyes and relaxed a bit. Maybe Jessica was a pain, but anything that caused a reason for Michael to squeeze my shoulder was fine with me.
“Want to call it quits for now? We can e-mail this to ourselves and work on it at home. I think we have a solid rough draft here,” he said. I noticed he looked at Jessica and said “rough draft” just a little extra loud. She kept her eyes glued to her screen and typed fast, as if her life depended on it. “And honestly,” Michael now said in almost a whisper, leaning close to me, “this isn’t more than a puff piece. We’re not babies. We know we’re not supposed to text during class. I’m not a big fan of texting, but my older brother Tommy is—so what? He knows enough when to stop.”
I ran my fingers through my hair to smooth out any frizzes. I found myself doing that more often since I’d seen Jeff’s unretouched photo of me. I knew this article wasn’t hard news, but I wouldn’t call it a puff piece. “I don’t know,” I said to Michael. “I feel like the more feedback we get from people, the more it seems like they actually are distracted by texting, both in and out of school. I think it’s an important topic to open up.”
“I’m kind of ready to be done and move on to other subjects.”
I just shrugged. I didn’t want to say anything else about it. I wasn’t in the mood for an argument. We already had some conflict about the Photoshop issue. Maybe if I added some things into the article to add a little weight to everything, beyond just how people can’t stop texting for twenty-four hours, he’d come over to my side.
That night I worked hard on the article and thought about our conversation. Maybe he was right, but I was surprised he still felt that way, since I found the article becoming only more relevant the deeper I got into it. Why wasn’t he having the same experience? How could he not see that texting was a pretty charged issue? I Googled around and tried to find some research that supported my hunch. What came up were tons of articles about the dangers of texting while driving. There were some very scary statistics correlating texting and serious accidents, certainly not something to be taken lightly. There were also lots of statistics about how young adults text more than any other population. I also found out that many schools ban phones altogether because if they’re in the building, kids will find a way to sneak texts. Many teachers and administrators said that when kids are texting in the school, they are simply not paying attention. I cited some of this information to add weight to the piece and hoped Michael would see that this was a pretty important topic.
I also gritted my teeth and rewrote my lead, which now read, Strict new texting rules at Cherry Valley have put a damper on students’ phone usage and mood in recent weeks, instead of The administration at Cherry Valley enforced strict texting rules to the dismay of the student body in recent weeks. I have to admit I liked it better, but I wish Jessica had given us feedback after the whole article was done. I always do a rewrite before I post my article. And the number-one rule for an editor in chief, or anyone who gets to weigh in on my writing—ask first! That’s what annoyed me the most. I can take some feedback, especially when it makes the article better. I got up and stretched and walked into the kitchen for some hot chocolate. I took out the milk and chocolate powder and stirred it together. Then I put it in the microwave and waited as the kitchen started to smell sweet and chocolaty.
“Mmmm,” Mom said, coming in. “Making hot chocolate?”
“Yeah. You want some?” I asked. The microwave beeped. I took my mug out, being careful that I didn’t burn myself. It was really hot, so I poured in a bit more milk and stirred it with my spoon.
“No thanks. I’ll just make myself some tea,” she said, filling up the teapot with water. “How’s it going? You’ve been closed up in your room all evening.”
“Good, actually. I’ve made a lot of headway on the texting article. I’m surprised how many people could barely last twenty-four-hours without texting. Even some of the teachers!”
Mom leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. “I can kind of understand that. I remember when I worked without even e-mail. I had to call people on the phone all the time for every question I had. E-mail and texts are certainly convenient, but there was something really nice about hearing people’s voices. I also saved up my questions so I’d have one productive phone call. Can you even imagine?” she said, her eyes twinkling with sarcasm.
“Have to say, I can’t. But I like calling people sometimes, like when I have to talk something out with Hailey. I don’t want to type everything out, you know?”
“I do know,” Mom said, pouring herself a steaming cup of tea.
“Michael thinks it’s no big deal. At first I thought he was right, but now I’m finding out some really alarming stuff. Not just about how much it can distract you in the classroom, but on the road too.”
Mom’s eyes widened, and she nodded quickly as she swallowed her tea. “Yes,” she said when she finally swallowed. “I never wanted to tell you this, but about two years ago I got a ticket for using my phone in the car. I wasn’t texting, just talking to someone. But that’s the last time I ever did that. It was a really stupid thing to do, and I’m glad I got a ticket. Maybe it’s good I’m telling you this so you know how serious it is. It probably saved me from getting into an accident.”
Whoa. Hold the phone. Girl Finds Out Mother Can Be Just as Stupid as Teenagers. I swallowed hard. It was scary to think of Mom doing something dangerous on the road.
“I’m glad you told me. And I’m glad you don’t do that anymore.”
“I don’t, and I hope you and Allie will get how dangerous it is to use the phone while driving. I’ve drilled it into your sister’s head a million times since she started driving, but let me know if you ever see her do it. That’ll be a time when it’s okay to tattle.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I said, grinning. I finished my hot chocolate and went back into my room. I had a lot of energy. Working on the article had charged me up and it was only nine o’clock. I thought about messaging Hailey, but after the talk with Mom, I was in the mood to actually hear her voice. I went to the den, curled up on the couch, and dialed the phone.
“Are you okay?” she said when she got on the phone.
“Yeah, sorry to call so late,” I said, and wondered if I should have texted or messaged her instead.
“No, no. I’m up, barely,” she said, and yawned. Hailey was more of a morning person. Me, I usually got a second wind after nine. But then I wasn’t happy in the morning.
“So I saw this fantastic photo of you that Jeff took,” I said, stretching my legs out on the couch, knowing that bit of information would perk her right up.
“Really? At the ice-cream shop?” she said, her voice lifting.
“Well, those were good. But there was one he took of you in the hallway and it is a really good picture, but he made it extra good.”
“What do you mean?” Hailey asked.
“He touched it up with Photoshop,” I replied.
“Oh,” she said, and paused. Then she continued. “That’s kind of weird.” She lowered her voice as if someone else were listening to her. “So how good do I look?”
“Ha!” I cried. “This from a person who’s always telling me to stop worrying about my hair. And I have pretty good hair. I thought you didn’t really care how you look.”
“Of course I care how I look—I just don’t want to waste hours every day fiddling around with makeup and clothes, you know? I have more important things to do. But if someone makes me look extra great and I didn’t even have to do anything, now, that I wanna see.”
I laughed. “You’re one of a kind, Hailey!”
“Yeah, especially Photoshopped.”
“No,” I said, now serious. “Not the Photoshopped version. The real Hailey is my favorite version,” I said, and I meant it. “You know, Jeff did one of me too, and I have to say, I looked pretty awesome, especially my hair.”
“See? You loved it,” Hailey said.
“Well yeah, I do look good in a weird sort of way. And guess what? I think Michael almost asked Jeff for a copy in front of me.” I cleared my throat. “The Photoshopped version. Not the other one.”
“Interesting. Well, the good side is that at least he wanted a photo of you looking extra fine,” Hailey said. “Can’t blame him for that.”
“I guess not,” I responded, but I still wasn’t sure if I liked this whole idea of Photoshopping school newspaper photos. It didn’t feel, well, honest. What would Hailey think if I gave her a photo of Frank with his ears shrunk and his hair lightened? If she thought the picture was cute, it wouldn’t matter, because that’s not who he really was. As I said in my Dear Know-It-All letter, If he asks you to cut your hair, he doesn’t make the cut.
Was this like Michael wanting me to cut my hair, so to speak?