I spent so much time working on the project with Cleo over the next week that I barely had time to connect with Selena or Josie.
Sometimes, as Cleo and I hung out comparing notes or talking about school or movies or books, I sensed what things might have been like before TV and phones, in the dark ages before everyone was connected by technology.
That didn’t mean I didn’t miss technology. My hand still searched out my phone dozens of times a day.
One afternoon, Josie called our landline. Mom listened for a moment, frowning. Then she handed me the phone. “I think you’d better talk to her,” she said. “But make it short.”
“I tried calling you,” Josie sobbed. “I’ve left loads of texts.”
“I don’t have my phone, remember? Are you okay?”
“No. Yes. No. I don’t know.” She took a long, shaky breath. “It’s Luca. I like him. I mean, I really like him.”
“So?”
“It’s just. You know boys. He seems really hot for me too. Until he’s around his skateboard buddies. Then I hardly exist.”
“Did you have a fight?”
“Kind of.”
“What does ‘kind of’ mean? Did you, or didn’t you?”
“He told me he hated clingy girls. I wasn’t clinging, I…hang on, there’s another call.”
“Josie?”
She came back on the line. “That was Luca. I’m headed over there now. I’ll call you later, okay?”
I stared at the phone for a second. Then I handed the phone back to Mom without saying anything and headed upstairs.
There was no point trying to figure out what that had been about. Figuring out boys was hard enough. Figuring out Josie and a boy, forget it.
Maybe there was an upside to not being in constant contact!
I reread the Project Disconnect article I had downloaded. An entire school participated, even the teachers. Some university prof published a paper on the changes the teachers had noticed. Kids talking to each other. Spending more time in the library and at after-school clubs.
When I bring it up again to Cleo the next day, she said, “Don’t mention it, okay? It would be death to our popularity ratings.” Popularity ratings?
I gave her the notes I got from talking to Dad. She grabbed my hands. “Look at your nails! You’ve bitten them so far, they’re bleeding. Better add that to your list of withdrawal symptoms.”
I hadn’t even noticed I was doing it.
In class, Ms. Stryker checked her notes when I reported on our project. “I thought you and Cleo said you were doing homelessness.”
“We changed our minds.” Cleo said we as if it hadn’t all been her idea.
“That’s a pity,” said Stryker. “It’s an important subject.”
There goes our A, I thought.
“We’re doing that topic,” said Sara from across the room.
“We want permission to bring in a guest speaker,” added her partner Shauna.
Stryker frowned at her notes. “I have here that your project was to be about getting a first job.”
“A guy called Dennis lives in the bushes behind my dad’s business,” Sara explained. “My dad gives him stuff sometimes. Food. Blankets, when it got cold. Dennis agreed to come in and talk to the class.”
“All right, all right.” Stryker held up a hand to hush the chatter. “Sara and Shauna, that’s something you’ll have to clear with the vice-principal. Now, can we finish with the updates and get on to other work?”
“That’s what we need,” said Cleo on our way out of school. “A guest speaker. Maybe we can invite your dad.”
“We don’t need to invite him,” I told her. Like I was going to let my own father stand up in front of my classmates! I was almost as surprised as Cleo when the words came out of my mouth. “I can be the guest speaker.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ll present our report, like we planned. And then I’ll tell everyone what gave us the idea for the project.”
“That’s already part of the introduction.” “Not just about having my phone confiscated. But why.”
She took a step back and stared at me. “Like, about Caden? I thought you didn’t want to go into specifics.”
“We were going to use case studies anyway. The one about the guy who stepped into traffic because he was so busy on his phone. And the girl who didn’t hear the truck backing up when she was plugged into her iPod.”
“That’s different. No one knows those people,” said Cleo. “But they know you.”
“If we put a face to the risks, it will have more impact, won’t it? Like having a real live homeless person is sure to get everyone’s attention.”
“I guess that’s one way to make friends and influence people!” Cleo looked doubtful. “I can’t figure out if you are brave, stupid or suicidal.”