Cleo was wrong.
“An impressive piece of work.” Dad read Stryker’s comment below the A-minus on the report.
“We deserved an A,” Cleo said for the hundredth time.
“And we might have got one if we hadn’t screwed up on the PowerPoint presentation,” I said, being careful not to look at her.
“That’s right. Blame it on me.” When she shook her head, the strings on her hat flailed around her head.
“Didn’t your teacher tell you that you lost points because you depended on technology for a project on technology dependence? Not because you couldn’t make it work?” asked Mom.
“Isn’t that the same thing?” I asked.
“No. It’s not,” said Cleo. “Besides, we would have aced the project with a better speaker. I’m not saying you didn’t do a great job,” she said when she saw the look on my face. “But Dennis DeVos stood out. You, you’re just one of the crowd.”
I was, I realized. It had taken a few weeks—and hanging out with Cleo—to feel like I actually belonged here.
“A-minus is a good grade,” said Dad. “Technology aside, it sounds like you both did a great job.”
“To recognize your hard work on this, perhaps we could help with the fare to Calgary for spring break,” said Mom.
Dad nodded.
“Dee and I have plans,” said Cleo. “With a couple of other kids from school.”
Who knew that hanging out with Drew Galling could be a blast? Especially with Harrison making up the fourth. It turned out he was more than just a nice face.
“Dee?” asked Dad. “Daria is Dee now?”
“Cleo thinks it suits me.”
“I guess I’ll get used to it.” He left the room muttering, “Whatever is next? Piercings?”
He came back right away with my phone. “I think you’ve earned this back. I’m sure you’ve learned from all your recent research. Don’t you think?” he asked Mom.
I reached for the phone. Four weeks had sounded like such a long time.
Cleo grabbed it first. “It’s nicer than mine.”
“You don’t have a phone!” I said.
“Do too! I finally convinced Mom and Dad that they can’t live in the dark ages forever.” She passed me my phone and rooted in her bag. “See?” The phone she held out was an old one, as big as a brick. It probably dated back to pioneer times. “Recycled,” she said. “As you might expect.” She grinned at me. “Now we can connect anytime, unless Stryker has her way.”
Dad smiled slyly at me. “Oh. I’m sure clever girls like you can work something out.”
Did he know I had cheated? If so, there was no sign from Mom that he had told her.
While Cleo pressed buttons on her phone, I picked up mine from the table. It fitted my hand, as if it belonged there. I couldn’t help it. I turned it on.
Nineteen calls. Texts galore. My fingers itched to scroll through them.
Then I looked at Mom and Dad. They were frowning as they watched Cleo punch the keys of her phone, shake it, hold it up to her ear, glare at it.
I put my phone on the counter.
First call I would make would be to Cynthia. Maybe she would let me speak to Caden and Emerson to see if Caden’s hair was growing back and find out how Emmy did with her science project.
I could connect with Josie and Selena later.
I headed to the fridge for the tiramisu Cleo and I had made earlier. While we had mixed and poured, I had told her about the Cool Code of Conduct. She’d asked, “And how has that worked out for you lately?” All I could do was laugh.
She was still fiddling with her phone as I put dessert on the table and passed out forks. “Put that down,” I told Cleo. “I’ll help you figure it out later. But first, let’s eat.”