“How come you didn’t call before?” said Selena when I snuck in a call before Mom got home.
“I told you. I’m not even supposed to use the phone. And I got hung up on this socials project at the library with Cleo.”
“Who’s Cleo?”
“Just some girl.”
“What’s she like?” There was an edge in her voice.
“She’s okay. A bit weird, I guess.”
“Weird, how?”
“I don’t know. Just different.” I could have told her about Cleo’s hats and piercings and strange home life. But it felt disloyal. “Is Josie there?” I asked. “Let me talk to her. I don’t know when I can connect again.”
“She and Luca took off to check out some skateboards.”
“Are they going out?” I asked.
“Ye-es! Like for at least two weeks! You really are out of the loop.”
In the background, someone yelled for her to hurry up. “So what else is new?” I asked. “Selena?”
She was talking to someone else, away from the phone. Katya Blewett, I figured from the voice. “Selena?”
“Talk later, okay?” she said. “I’ve got to go.”
I looked at the dead phone in my hand.
I dumped it on the floor and pulled my covers over my head. I might have gone to sleep if Mom hadn’t stuck her head around the door. “Hi. Everything okay?”
I hadn’t heard her come in. I swung my legs down, kicking the phone under the bed. “Fine.”
“How was school?”
“Fine.”
Mom shrugged. “Now we’ve had our mandatory hello-how-are-you conversation, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
I waited to hear that she was downstairs before I grabbed the phone and dialed Cleo’s number.
“Hi. It’s me. Daria.”
“I could be your sponsor,” she said. “Like in AA? Dad had one. Now he sponsors other people. When they feel tempted to drink, they call, and he talks them through it. Though I guess in your case, being as you are a recovering techno-phile, you are not likely to call for help on the very instrument you’re withdrawing from. You think?”
I had to laugh. Cleo may be weird, but she was smart and funny.
“So what’s up?” she asked.
“I thought I’d give you a call,” I said. “I had to sneak the phone from downstairs. Now I have to figure out how to get it back without Mom seeing.”
“Is that why we’re whispering?” she whispered.
I told her about Josie and Luca. And Katya Blewett. Someone Selena had no time for before. Now they were hanging out together at the mall. I bet they could find room for her in Selena’s mom’s Kia.
“Well, people do move on, don’t they?” said Cleo. “I’ve left people behind each time we moved. You can’t stay friends forever with everyone you leave behind.”
“What about that ‘enough love to go around’ stuff you were on about?” I asked.
“That’s a load of crap.” She laughed. “Well, not really. But you’ve got me now. Selena has Justine. Josie has Luca. It all works out. So, of all the guys in school, who do you have your eye on?”
She was trying so hard, and I was sick of talking about Selena and Josie. And Daria makes three. “You mean here?” I asked.
“Of course here. Me, myself and I? I think Drew Galling has a nice face.”
“The chess freak?” I laughed. “You like his face? What about his arms? Or his shoulders or his chest?” I had never looked closely at any of them myself. “I’ll have to think about it,” I told her. “I’d better go before Mom sneaks up on me again.”
“Me too. How are you feeling, by the way? Remember to keep notes of all your symptoms.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do it as soon as I hang up.” Which I thought was pretty funny.
The phone was safely under my pillow when Mom put her head around the door again. “Dad’s home. Can you help with supper?”
The look she gave me reminded me of when I was at Nana’s a few weeks ago, on the phone to Josie. “Do you remember when we used to cook together?” Nana had asked. That made me think of the woman at the mall telling me about her grandsons always texting.
What was it Dad said? I wondered. Something about not being in the same room?
“Sure. I can help,” I said. I followed her downstairs and managed to sneak the phone back on its base without her noticing.
Seconds later, Dad came in and grabbed it. I followed him into the study. “What’s wrong with your cell?” I asked.
“Nothing. I just thought I’d try doing without my cell for a while. To keep you company in your suffering,” he said. Like it wasn’t his idea! “How’s it going, anyway?” he asked.
“Fine.”
He looked at me sideways, as if he suspected something.
“So how’s it going for you?” I asked.
He made a face. “Old habits die hard and all that. I keep thinking I’ve lost something. Keep patting my pocket.” He did it now.
I knew the feeling. “Cleo and I are doing our socials project on addiction to technology,” I told him. “Can I interview you about your withdrawal symptoms?”
“Me?” He held out a shaking hand. He made his head twitch, his tongue loll out of his mouth. “What withdrawal symptoms?” he asked.
“What is wrong with you?” asked Mom when I followed him into the kitchen.
“We’re comparing withdrawal symptoms.” Dad took the potato peeler from Mom. “I feel better with something in my hands. What about you, Daria?”
It was nice of Dad to let me know in his weird way that he understood what I was going through. I grabbed the placemats. “Me too. Who knows? I might even volunteer to do the dishes.” Or not.