Katie Friedman Gives Up Texting! (14 page)

“You got my note?” I stammered.

“Yes, ma'am!”

My heart was racing in the usual I-can't-believe-I'm-talking-to-Jane-Plantero way. “I was really hoping to talk to you again. We're halfway through the week.”

“And how's it going?”

“Well, it's been pretty interesting so far.”

Jane let out a raspy chuckle. “I'll bet. Yup, Nareem's Papa gave me the note. How are things with ole Nareem, anyway?”

I took a deep breath. “Well, I should probably tell you—Nareem and I broke up. After the whole text thing. He's such an incredible person, though.”

“Well,” Jane said, “the heart wants what it wants.”

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. “The funny thing is, there's this other boy, who I have kind of a complicated relationship with. And he didn't give up his cellphone for the week. And in fact, it's become this thing at school, the kids who gave up their phones against the kids who didn't. And he's leading the other side. And it's really annoying.”

Jane laughed again, harder this time, and it ended with a coughing fit.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I'm fine,” she said, still chuckling and coughing a bit. “You join the rock 'n' roll club, you sign up for a lot of late nights. It's in the manual. Nothin' I can do about it.”

“Okay,” I said. I wanted to tell her to take care of herself, but didn't want to sound like a priss.

“Enough about me,” she answered. “Sounds like you've got a lot on your plate. And how about the song? 'Bout done with that baby yet?”

“I'm working on it,” I said, somewhat untruthfully.

“Well, work harder,” Jane said. “Don't you have a talent show coming up?”

“Saturday night. We have rehearsal Friday. I'll finish it by then, I promise.”

“Good girl.” I heard some muffled sounds—I think someone was saying something to Jane, and Jane answered—then she said to me, “Gotta fly. You take care. You're doing good.” And then there was a click.

I hung up the phone, thinking about what Jane said.
The heart wants what it wants
.

Well, right at that moment, my heart was thinking about CHICKMATE. And my heart didn't care that Becca and the rest of the girls in the band just wanted to play famous songs.

Some day, I was going to play
my
song.

 

35

THE HIGH POINT

Tiffany lived in one of those houses
that's way bigger than it needs to be. Does anyone really need a fifth bathroom? Or a third car in the garage? Or a first sitting room? I don't even know what a sitting room is. All I know is, no one ever sits in them.

But Tiffany's extra-huge house also meant that it was an amazing place for a barbecue. She had a pool, a tennis court, and even a croquet course that her dad set up.

Unfortunately, the Cavemen weren't using any of those things.

Instead, we were sitting on the (giant) porch, playing another game. This time, we each had to confess about a text we'd sent about someone in the group, behind their back.

The game was Tiffany's idea, so she went first. “I once sent a text about Celia,” she said. “It was when you started going out with Phil. I sent a text to Eliza that I thought he was just going out with you to make Eliza jealous.”

“Huh?” Phil said. “That's not true!”

“I remember that,” Eliza confirmed.

Celia looked surprised, but also a little proud.

“I'm really sorry,” Tiffany said. “It was really immature of me. You two are like the most awesome couple.”

“It's okay,” Celia told Tiffany. “I once sent a text to Jill Kerhsaw, saying that I thought your highlights looked fake.”

Tiffany's jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

Celia nodded and giggled.

“Uh-oh,” Hannah said. “Tiffany takes her hair very seriously.”

“I do not!” Tiffany said. “Well, maybe a little,” she added, giggling.

Eliza was the only one who didn't laugh at that. Looking very serious, she said, “I'll go next.” Then she turned to me. “Katie, I remember texting Amber and Tiffany that you could be really mean.”

To say I was caught off guard would be an understatement. “Huh?” I managed to stammer.

Hannah tried to rescue me. “Does anyone want to play pool volleyball?”

But nobody moved.

“We're being honest, right?” Eliza said. “No hiding behind phones or texts?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Eliza continued, “I think you always knew I liked Charlie Joe, and I think you thought it was funny that he didn't like me back, because he liked Hannah. And I heard that you made fun of me on text a lot, like about my asking you for help on homework and stuff, which really hurt my feelings and made me feel stupid. So I was wondering if it was true—if you ever sent mean texts to anyone about me.”

WOW.

There it was.

The most honest thing any of us had ever said to anyone else.

I turned red. Everyone waited to see if I would be honest back.

“I did,” I said finally. “I sent mean texts about you wanting my help with homework and not knowing the answer to something in class and stuff like that. But I never thought you were stupid, just lazy. Like you could get away with not working hard because you're pretty. And you're right. I did think it was funny that you liked goofy Charlie Joe Jackson, and he didn't like you back. I never thought about your feelings being hurt. I'm really sorry.”

DOUBLE WOW.

The porch was silent. The only sound you could hear was the sprinkler on the clay tennis court, whirring around, spraying water.

“It's okay,” Eliza said to me, finally. “I understand.” And we hugged.

“Wow, that was intense, you guys,” Ricky said.

“I can honestly say that wouldn't have happened if we had our phones,” Jake added.

Everyone else agreed.

“Burgers are ready!” yelled some adult.

We ate, and then we decided what the heck, we'd play some croquet after all. While whacking the ball around the lawn, I felt really tired, but happy. This was what Jane meant by communication and connection. The next two days were going to be even better, and then I could tell Jane we did it! Backstage tour, here we come!

And then came Thursday morning.

 

36

MISSING

I'd just gotten off the bus
and was on my way to homeroom when Hannah came running up to me.

“Katie! Come quick!”

“What? What happened?”

She didn't answer. But I could tell by her face that it wasn't good.

I followed her around the corner and down the hall, trying to figure out where she was going. Finally she began to slow down, and I realized we were by the lockers.

My
locker.

Just to remind you, I basically never go to my locker in school. I don't even
lock
my locker. Most kids don't. The lockers are too far away from the classrooms, and kids are far too lazy to drop stuff off there in between classes. We'd rather lug our entire lives around in our backpacks.

So I hadn't been to my locker in four days—the last time was when I put everyone's phones there.

Which is why when I saw the door swinging open and the bag of phones sticking out, a sick feeling came over me.

The feeling that said,
I should have locked my locker
.

I walked past a few kids who were standing around, grabbed the bag, looked inside, and breathed an immediate sigh of relief. The phones were still there!

I quickly scanned the rest of my locker. “I don't think anything's missing,” I said. “But then why would someone go into my locker?”

Hannah shook her head. “This is middle school that's why.”

I started to put the bag back, but Hannah put her hand on my arm. “Hold on. Maybe you should count them.”

“Count them?”

“Yup,” Hannah said. “I'm sure they're all there, but just to be sure.”

Another uneasy feeling came over me as I realized she was right. Just because someone hadn't stolen the bag didn't mean someone hadn't stolen
something
.

I counted.

Ten phones.

I counted again.

Ten phones again.

“One's missing,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Hannah's eyes went wide. “Are you sure?”

I counted again. “Yup, I'm sure. There are supposed to be eleven phones here. There are only ten.” I couldn't believe it, but I had to say it.

“Someone took a phone.”

Then I thought something almost funny. I thought,
I should text Eliza and tell her what's going on
.

I think that's what they call “irony.”

Hannah grabbed the bag from me and we counted the phones again. Then we turned every phone on to see whose they were, and we were able to figure out that it was Jake's phone that was missing.

“I can't believe it!” Hannah said. “Who would do this?”

“Who do you think?” By the look on Hannah's face I could tell she was thinking the same thing. Or should I say, the same person.

Charlie Joe.

 

37

WHO DID IT?

At lunch, we all tried
to make Jake feel better about his stolen phone. He was really quiet though, and didn't feel much like talking.

Meanwhile, we still hadn't solved the mystery, so things were getting tense.

When I asked Charlie Joe if he'd taken it, he was offended. “You're crazy,” he said. “I would never do something that predictable. Give me a little credit.”

When I thought about it, he was right. His schemes usually had a lot more imagination to them.

My attention turned to Pete Milano, but it turned out he wasn't in school that day. He was “sick,” which, amazingly enough, seemed to happen whenever there was a test he didn't want to take.

As usual, the Cavemen were all sitting together. Also as usual, the Phonies were one table over. They were yakking and texting about the phone theft.

“Phone-tastic news!” Timmy hollered.

“I've never had so much phone in my life!” crowed his annoying friend Eric.

“E.T. phone home?” asked Charlie Joe. Then he launched into a bad E.T. voice. “I would, but I can't find it!”

The whole cafeteria laughed, except our table. We sat there, glumly.

Finally Ricky smacked his hand on his tray, spilling some of his chocolate milk. “Enough! I'm sick of this. I want my phone back. I'm sick of being a Caveman. I want to be back with everyone else.”

“Me, too,” said Phil. Which meant Celia did, too, since they agreed on everything.

Amber eyed me suspiciously. “Katie, how do we know you didn't take your own phone back, too? Everyone knows you like Charlie Joe. Maybe you wanted to do some text flirting.”

Eliza looked at me with shocked eyes. “Wait a second,
you
like Charlie Joe?”

“Where have you been?” Jackie mumbled, giggling.

I felt my skin start to burn. “Me, like Charlie Joe? Ha! That's hilarious coming from you, Amber. You're just trying to protect Eliza, since you've worshipped the ground she's walked on for like five years.”

Amber's face turned the color of tomato juice. “I have
not
!”

“You
have
,
too
!”

“ENOUGH!” Hannah yelled, slamming her own hand on the table.

I suddenly felt ashamed. “I'm sorry,” I said to Amber. “This is stupid. We can't start fighting now. We're too close to the end of the week! Let's just be proud of what we're doing, and finish the week out strong.”

Ricky rolled his eyes. “Finish the week out strong,” he muttered. “Whatever.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Tiffany said. “It's not so great not having a phone, Katie. Sorry, but it's true. I know we've had some good conversations and everything but otherwise it's really kind of boring.”

A few heads nodded. I started to get nervous. I could probably convince Jane that one dropout was okay. But the whole thing looked like it was about to blow up.

“Only a few more days, you guys,” I said. “Then, at the talent show, we can celebrate. And just wait—soon after that, we're going to celebrate again, and it's going to be amazing, trust me. We just have to finish out the week. Trust me, it's going to be awesome.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Ricky.

“Yeah,
what's
going to be awesome?” echoed Jake.

Everybody looked at me. I wasn't sure what to say. Obviously I couldn't tell them about my deal with Jane, but I couldn't pretend I hadn't said it, either.

I tried to come up with something. “Um, I just meant that maybe we'll get some kind of award from the school or something.”