Disconnect

Copyright © 2012 Lois Peterson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Peterson, Lois J.,
1952-
Disconnect [electronic resource] / Lois Peterson.

(Orca currents)

Electronic monograph.
Issued also in print format.
ISBN
978-1-4598-0145-5
(PDF).--ISBN
978-1-4598-0146-2
(EPUB)

I. Title. II. Series: Orca currents (Online)
PS
8631
.E
832
D
58 2012            j
C
813'.6           
C
2012-902232-2

First published in the United States, 2012
Library of Congress Control Number:
2012938149

Summary:
Fourteen-year-old Daria's addiction to technology
creates serious problems in her life.

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

Cover photography by Getty Images

www.orcabook.com
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For teachers and students at the
South Surrey/White Rock Learning Centre.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

“Are you listening?”

I typed,
In case I forget later, GL with
the dance comp. Gotta go.

“Daria!”

“Okay. Okay!” I said as I hit
Send
and pocketed my phone.

“I told her you would go by after school,” my mother said. “To meet the kids.”

“Told who?” I asked through a mouthful of cereal. “What kids?”

I looked up from the table when I noticed the silence filling the kitchen. My mother's hands gripped the chair in front of her. Her eyes were closed.

“What?” I asked. So now she expected me to read her mind?

Mom opened her eyes. Her hands were white on the top of the chair. “Why do I waste my breath?” she hissed.

“What?” I asked again. I scooped up a spoonful of cereal and munched.

Mom sighed. “Cynthia Clarkson. A colleague of mine? I have told you about her.” My mother must be the only person who can spit through clenched teeth. “She has two children,” she said. “They need a babysitter.”

“Me?” Only twelve-year-olds babysat!

“This would be one way to earn the fare to see Selena and Josie at spring break,” she said.

“I want to work at the mall,” I told her. “In a clothes store, maybe. So I can get a discount.”

“You're too young to work in retail.”

My phone vibrated against my leg. I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the screen. Two messages.

“Leave that,” said Mom. “Listen to me for one minute.”

“I am listening.” One was a text from Josie.
Call S to wish her luck. PLS.
Shes driving me nuts.

Mom's hand shot out and batted the phone from my hand. It skittered across the table.

I grabbed it and wiped it on my shirt. “You could have smashed that!”

Suddenly my mother's face was so close I could see the pores on her nose. “Give me your attention,” she said. “For once.”

“Chill out, would you?” I checked the screen to make sure everything still worked.

“That's it. Forget it.” Mom shoved her chair hard against the table, causing my spoon to tip out of my bowl and clatter onto the floor. “I thought it would be a good idea,” she said. “Just forget it.”

“Mom!” Why did she have to overreact to everything?

“Never mind. I'll be late. Clean up that mess,” she said as she charged out.

I watched the door, expecting her to come back. She sometimes does that. She gets a second wind and starts in again at full rant.

When I heard Mom's footsteps thud up the stairs, I settled back in my chair. I quickly texted Josie back.
Did already. U kno S. Tell
her to imagine Im there watching. Take pics.

I closed my phone and stuck it in my pocket.

Babysitting! What was Mom thinking? Snotty kids. Reading stories. Doing puzzles! There had to be better ways to make the fare back to Calgary.

Chapter Two

I sat next to the window in case things got boring, and in the middle row to avoid getting noticed. I unpacked my books and binders and stacked them on my desk with my phone on top.

“Okay if I sit here?” asked a girl I'd never seen before. She was wearing a knitted hat with pink strings that hung down to her shoulders.

I shrugged.

The girl unloaded her bulging green bag and unpacked a load of stuff onto the desk. “I love the first day at a new school.” A silver ring in her bottom lip flickered. “I'm Cleo.” She stuck her hand across the aisle.

“Pleased to meet you.” I kept my own hands on my desk.

Cleo didn't seem to notice the snub. “And you are?”

“Daria. Rhymes with malaria.” Josie had pointed that out the day we met in grade two.

Cleo pulled a pen out. “I just moved to Delta. What's it like, then?”

“Boring.”

“I guess you'd feel that way if you always lived here,” said Cleo.

“We got here last month.”

“Maybe we should check out town together,” she said.

“I don't think so.” I picked up my phone and clicked through my messages.

“That's a cool phone,” said Cleo.

Cool? It was at least a year old.

I was reading another panicked text from Selena when the classroom noise died down. Bags thudded to the floor, chairs scraped and the talking subsided.

Mr. Jenks swung around from scribbling on the board. “I have your attention. Good.” He scanned the room. “Class. We have a new student joining us. This is Cleo Bennis.”

“Hello, all.” Cleo grinned and waved. You'd have thought she was the Queen.

Snickers came from behind her. A few kids muttered “Hi” as if they couldn't care less. But no one waved back.

Keep your head down and mind your own business, I thought. Works for me.

Cleo was right behind me as everyone swarmed out of the room after class. “So how about it?” she asked.

Going for gold!!! Wish u were here.

I looked up from Selena's message. “How about what?”

“Checking out the neighborhood?” Cleo's hat strings bobbed as she jostled her way through the door.

“I have to go straight home,” I told her. I sounded like a kindergarten kid, so I added, “I'm babysitting tonight.” As if.

Cleo's smile faded. “That's fine. Okay.”

I almost felt bad.

“What class have you got next?” Cheerful again. “I've got honors math.” She tapped her schedule against her cheek. “Where is room nineteen?”

“Second floor. Next to the girls' washroom. I'm headed the other way.” I pushed through the crowd, head down, my eyes on my phone screen.

I could feel Cleo watching me. But I didn't turn back.

At the Kave, a guy with green hair sneered, “We don't hire babies.” At Bookends, they asked for id. I told the McDonald's manager, whose name tag said his name was Cliff, that I was fifteen. He gave me an application form and told me to return it with my birth certificate.

It was the same in every store. Even to stock shelves, you had to be fifteen. I had seven months to go. I shoved the McDonald's paperwork into the nearest garbage can.

Back home, Josie and Selena and I hung out at the Chinook Center after school most days. We would share an iced cappuccino while we scoured the sales racks at The Gap and checked out the movies and
CD
s at HMV. Sometimes we did our homework at the food fair. We weren't total slackers.

When we started high school together, we came up with a Cool Code of Conduct. One: Keep your head down. If you're invisible, you can get away with almost anything. Two: Don't fail. It was like being a fish, Selena said. Slow down, and an eagle swoops down and grabs you. She's into nature big-time. Three: Stick together. High school—and life—are hard enough. The only way to survive is to stay connected.

Since my parents dragged me to Delta, the old rules worked. Especially number three. Even with a thousand kilometers between us, Selena, Josie and I were never out of touch.

When I checked my phone, I had three messages. One panicked one from Selena. Another from her. And one from Mom.

I checked that first. Selena's performance nerves were getting boring. It was always the same.

Home by 5. Pls.

Wots up?
I texted Mom back. Then started one to Selena.
Good luck. #? do I
have to say it? Break a leg etc.

I didn't notice the old lady until she barged into me. I grabbed her shopping cart to regain my balance. “Sorry.”

“It's my fault.” Two harsh dark lines were drawn above the woman's eyes where her eyebrows should have been. “My daughter said I wasn't ready,” she said. “But a short walk around the mall, I told her. How could that hurt?” One of her legs was encased in a blue Aircast.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No blood spilled.” The woman smiled. “Not bad news, I hope.”

“Pardon me?”

“You were so intent on your phone.” The woman eased herself down onto the bench.

“I was checking on my friends.”

“You're meeting up with them, I expect,” she said. “You better get on.”

“No. They're back in Calgary. One has a dance recital tonight. I was texting to wish her good luck.”

The woman nodded. “My grandsons do a lot of that. I hardly get a word out of them when they visit.”

Another text alert beeped. “I better get going,” I said.

“You go ahead. Nice to meet you.” The woman pulled her shopping cart close. “I'll just sit here for a bit.”

I was heading out the door by Safeway when I saw Cleo coming my way, loaded down with grocery bags. Striped mittens swung from her sleeves. “I thought you were babysitting,” she said.

I felt myself flush. “I'm headed there now.”

“I could walk you.”

“I'm in a bit of a rush.”