Click Here (to find out how i survived seventh grade) (22 page)

Creamed Corn

Jilly and I avoided each other as if we had mono. We both waited until the last possible minute on Monday to get to the bus stop so we wouldn’t have to be near each other. I sat with Rosie, and Jilly sat with Bus Boy (I couldn’t think of him as Jon).

“You’ll kiss and make up,” Rosie said when I told her about the BFB (Best Friend Blowout).

“I’m not going to be the first,” I said. My monster sob session the night before had cleaned out all the sad stuff. Now I was just mad. “I was right and she was wrong and there’s no way I’m going to apologize.”

Rosie nodded. “And she’s sitting up there thinking the same thing.” “There’s no way she could ever think she was right if she really thought about it.” I was already planning a JILL-O-RAMA page for my personal website. I would list all of the times she had made me do things I didn’t want to do, and include a “Click here” to see who agreed with me or with her.

“Don’t make yourself crazy,” Rosie said. “It’ll work out.” Rosie crossed one leg over her knee. “My mom always says that no one can make a fool out of you without your permission.”

I thought about this. “Exactly. Jilly made a decision to be foolish and stop being my friend. I didn’t make her.”

“No, you didn’t. Just like she never made you try out for the play, or walk to her house first, even though your house is closer to the bus stop.”

I sighed deeply. “I know.” I hated thinking about that. After my big speech to Jilly, the last several years rolled through my mind and I saw all the things I’d done for Jilly that I didn’t want to do, all the times I’d been too afraid to say something for fear she’d stop being my friend.

But I also remembered the fun times. Like when we hid under the covers with flashlights and looked at
How to Talk to Your Child About Sex
, laughing at the pictures. Or when she surprised me on my birthday with a new WNBA basketball. Or when she sprained her ankle and I did her fingernails without her asking me, even though normally I can’t sit still long enough to do stuff like that.

“People always say to stand up for yourself,” I said. “But when I finally did, I lost my best friend.”

“She’ll come back,” Rosie said.

“And if she doesn’t?”

Rosie looked at me, then out the window. I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

When we got to school, Rosie stood up and gave me a friendly punch in the arm. “Remember, you’ve got to be a corncob tomorrow night. And you’ve got an Intranet to launch.”

“I know.” That was the only thing keeping me from running screaming from the house and back to Jilly’s doorstep, where I wanted to scream and shout and yell at her for being so stupid. But there was still a ton to do before we could actually click PUBLISH on Wednesday, so the Scream Fest would have to wait. I was spending every extra hour I could after school in the computer lab.

“I’ve still got three sections to create,” Tyler said to me when I got to the lab that afternoon. His voice cracked with anxiety. “How can I get them done in time?”

“My interviews still aren’t ready,” I said. “And Rosie’s group keeps having their images disappear. It’s a nightmare.” I looked around the room, where kids were clicking frantically, running to other computers, pulling Mr. Arnett or Ms. Moreno over for a consultation. We all felt the pressure. People had been talking about it for the last two weeks, waiting excitedly for the Intranet to go live. Terminals were being installed at different locations throughout the school so kids could access it without having to go into a classroom or to the lab. It was a BIG deal and we all knew we needed to deliver.

And I could never get to my own stuff because people were always asking me for help.

“We can do it,” I said to Tyler, knowing that no matter how long I stayed here, I’d still have to work at home tonight and tomorrow night to get it all finished.

The night of the grand performance of
A Harvest to Remember
, I was desperate for it to be over so I could copy the last of my files to the MBMS Intranet. I had been up until almost midnight the night before, adding the last of the faculty interviews and editing the web logs. With the disc safely tucked inside my backpack, I was ready to upload it to the server. I had trouble concentrating on the play and I thought I might spontaneously start boiling in my costume, melting into Erin soup before I could escape. But I stayed alert, breathing a sigh of relief after I said “I can’t heeaarr you” with my hand cupped to my ear. Now it was smooth sailing. I just had a few more songs to sing with the Vegetable Medley.

When the play was over, my parents hugged and congratulated me. Chris made corn jokes but said he liked it.

“Even Worthington was pretty good.”

“Yeah. She was.” It was true. She might be a snot, but she was a good actress. Almost as good as Jilly.

“Jilly was great,” he added, as if reading my mind. I kept quiet. Only Mom knew about our fight, but she hadn’t said anything since I’d had to explain my red and puffy eyes the morning after the BFB.

“Did you see Amanda?” I asked quietly. She had shown up with that same boy she was kissing outside the library.

Chris shrugged. “Old news.”

I scanned the gym for Jilly and her parents but couldn’t see them with everyone milling around. They were probably backstage taking pictures of the Star. She hadn’t made eye contact with me once during the play, which she’d done all through rehearsals. But I couldn’t worry about that now. After the cast party I had to upload my files and make some final adjustments. I had an Intranet to launch tomorrow.

As my family continued to talk about the play, I saw a pair of arms waving frantically across the gym. Tyler.

“Everything is basically ready,” Tyler said, out of breath as he hustled over. “We need your disc.”

I turned to my mom. “My backpack’s in my locker. I’ll meet you guys back in the drama room for the party.”

“I can get it,” Tyler said. “Go to the party.” I shook my head, which meant shaking the entire cob. I wasn’t about to give him my locker combination. I liked the poem, but who knew what other strange declaration of love he might put in there? Besides, I had to change anyway.

“I’ll get it,” I said. “It won’t take long.” We left the gymnasium and headed down the hall, Tyler several strides ahead of me. I made him turn his back while I dialed my combination, then pulled out my backpack. I reached in the front pocket and shoved the disc at Tyler. “I’ll come by after the party to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Okay. I’ll walk back partway with you.” As we shuffled back toward the drama room, I heard someone running behind us.
Wham!
I fell forward, my right arm pinned beneath me. Pain shot through my forearm and I cried out, feeling a little lightheaded.

“Watch where you’re going, Corn dog.” Serena’s voice seemed far away.

“You’re the one who bumped into her.” Tyler’s voice seemed equally far.

I tried to move but I was twisted inside my costume, my arm still pinned, the eyeholes now on the side of my head. “Corn dog?” Serena said. And then, “Erin?”

“My arm,” I said. “It really hurts.”

I could feel someone kneeling beside me.

“It might be broken,” Tyler said.

“Oh, God,” Serena said. The next thing I heard was footsteps running, running away until I couldn’t hear anything except my hot breath inside my costume.

“It looks like she has a slight fracture,” the doctor said as she stepped into the room, holding an X-ray. My parents stood by the examination table, and Chris sat in a chair flipping through
Sports Illustrated.
My brother was obviously deeply concerned about my injury.

“Great.” I looked down at my throbbing arm. “Serena just barreled right into me,” I told my parents. “Then she told
me
to watch where I was going.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Mom said, “she felt really bad about it. She called us here to check on you.”

“It doesn’t make me feel better,” I said. “She’s probably worried I’m going to sue her. She’s trying to butter us up.”

“Now, Erin.”

I glanced at her. “Did anyone else call?”

Mom shook her head. “No, honey. I’m afraid not.” She knew I meant Jilly.

I sighed and looked at the doctor. “Do I have to have a cast?” “Yes, you do, young lady,” the doctor said. “It’ll be on for a few weeks.” She turned to my parents. “You should keep her home tomorrow. It will probably still be painful and she should rest.”

“I can’t rest,” I said. “I have an Intranet to launch.”

“It’ll have to launch without you,” said the doctor. “You need to stay home.”

I looked to my parents for help, but they had turned into the Not Understanding Parents again. Funny, but this time I wanted to go to school.

“Sorry, Erin,” my dad said. “We know this was important to you.” “No, you don’t,” I practically shouted, then cringed as a sharp pain shot up my arm. “You have no idea how hard I worked on this. I’m the leader. I know the most of anybody. I designed the whole layout. It’s
my
Intranet.” I knew I sounded like a baby, but they couldn’t possibly understand how much it meant for me to be there. This was something I’d signed up for and done all by myself. Without Jilly. It was all mine. And now this doctor and my parents were going to take it away from me.

“I’m going to school tomorrow,” I said through clenched teeth. “It’s the last day before the Thanksgiving break. It’s launch day.”

The doctor exchanged a look with my parents. “Let’s get that cast on.”

I woke up the next morning with my arm still throbbing. For a drowsy moment I forgot what had happened and almost whacked myself in the head with my cast when I raised my arm. I shook my head as I caught sight of the alien Chris had drawn on the yellow gauze-like plaster. Its big black eyes stared back at me. “The Intranet was
my
thing,” I told the alien. “Most of the ideas were mine and Mark’s. I was supposed to be there to click
PUBLISH.
”

The alien didn’t say a word. I rolled my eyes at it and sat up in bed.

“You’re finally awake.” Mom came in carrying a glass of water and a pill. “I turned off all the ringers on the phones so they wouldn’t disturb you and I wouldn’t be tempted to answer and get distracted.”

“You turned off my alarm.” I looked at her accusingly as I took the pill and glass from her. I glanced at the clock. 11:00
A.M.
They’d clicked PUBLISH at 9:00
A.M.
The whole school had probably accessed a computer and seen all my hard work. And I wasn’t there.

“Actually it went off and you slept through it. Thank goodness. I should have checked it last night.” She brushed my hair off my forehead. “How’s your arm?”

“Still hurts,” I admitted. “Did you check messages?” I wondered if anyone had called to tell me about the launch. Rosie would have. And Tyler. Maybe even Mark. Not Jilly, of course. She could care less, I’m sure.

Mom shook her head. “I’ll bring the phone in and you can check them yourself.”

I nodded.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” She crossed over to my dresser and pulled a jewel case off the top. “I found this in a stack of books next to the computer this morning.” She smiled as she held it out. “I don’t think they can publish to your Intranet without this.”

I took the case from her.
Erin’s stuff
, I had printed neatly across the case.
PRIVATE.

“I bet they postponed the entire thing, honey. Don’t you feel better now?”

“Thanks, Mom, but this is —” I stopped. Something on the disc, which I could see through the smoked plastic cover, caught my eye. I grasped the edges of the case, my fingers trembling. Slowly, I lifted the lid.

MBMS Intranet
was written clearly across the silver surface of the disc.

My heart stopped beating. I had put the discs in the wrong cases. I had given Tyler the wrong disc to upload to the server.

My personal, private, no-one-will-see-but-me web page had been published for the entire MBMS population.

chapter 22

OMIK (Open Mouth, Insert Keyboard)

OH. MY. GOD.

I spent the next half hour hyperventilating. I kept closing my eyes and opening them again, each time hoping the disc in my hands would say
Erin’s Stuff — PRIVATE.
I must have done this twenty times before the reality sunk in. This meant that Mark Sacks, the Cutest Boy in the Universe, had read in my private blog that I thought he was the cutest boy in the universe. That I wanted to kiss him, or maybe even his feet. And I’d called him a hot tamale. He knew everything about me. He must think I’m the stupidest girl in the world.

And I wrote about PILLOW KISSING.

OH. MY. GOD.

Wait a minute. Someone must have caught the mistake. They wouldn’t just publish it without checking my content. Or maybe they had decided to wait for me. My heart slowed down. Of course. I was getting freaked out for nothing. They were waiting for me or if not, the teachers checked. Everything would be all right. Right?

Wrong. Dead wrong. Twenty minutes later my hands stopped shaking long enough for me to check voice mail. There were fifty-seven messages. Fifty-seven. Fifty-seven people calling after my private thoughts were broadcast all over the school. Fifty-seven people I hadn’t known were calling because Mom had turned all the ringers off. I guess I was glad I found out about the disc switch before I checked our messages.