short story
Stayed home sick. Read an entire book (Beastly) and got to get an early release copy of Crescendo (sequel to the amazing Hush, Hush) and MET Becca Fitzpatrick. She said she admired me for my job and not to give up submitting. I went to the writer's group last week with a super short kid book and got good reviews and feedback. Here's submission this week.
Title: Open Book
Genre: YA, angst, short story
WC: 4228
Warnings: none, some mild language
My life is an open book. Or at least that’s the title of my blog. Yes, I’m one of those people. Member of the digital age, spoiled white American, whiny teenager. I am all of that and so much more. Well, I guess I’m not all of that. Although I would be classified as upper-middle class demographically speaking, I did have to get an after school job giving popcorn to wannabes and horn dogs from my school five nights a week to buy my laptop and pay for my car. My parents want to teach me responsibility and the value of a dollar, though sometimes I wish they’d just give me the dollar. After seeing the pampered princesses walking into Riverside Theater on a Friday night clutching their Coach bags and stuffing Lexus keys into their Tommy Hilfiger jeans, completely unaware of anything that doesn’t center around their own selfish desires and thoughts, I totally get where my parents are coming from, though that still doesn’t stop the resentment from building knowing I’m not, nor will I be, like one of those people in my class.
I’m a loner. I’m not bad looking, at least I don’t think so, but I’m not anything special. I’m pretty skinny with dark hair that I keep long and brown eyes. I drive a 1998 Chevy Cavalier, not really turning heads as I drive around the Riverside High School parking lot. Most people think that the type of car they drive defines them. I think my car says that I wanted something to get me from here to there that wouldn’t break down every five minutes, well, most days it won’t break down every five minutes. Anyway, most people have me pegged as the loner, or a nerd, which suits me fine at school. But there is so much more to me than that. At night, when I am at home in my room, I have a whole different persona. I wasn’t just Krysten Mason: popcorn extraordinaire, high school loner, uncool car driver, Junior without Daddy’s credit card. I was Lala2009. At home in my room, my real personality comes out every time I sign in to my blog.
Tonight I was walking up to my room after a long shift at work. I was supposed to be off at 10:30, but I didn’t end up getting finished with everything until 11:30. I had some calculus homework to start on, but I could do that during first period. Besides, 11:50 at night was too late to start math homework. It was only two problems and math is my strongest subject. My parents were upstairs already, probably watching some crime drama rerun or the news. I stepped into my room and shut the door. After tossing my shoes into the closet, I sat down on my bed and pulled my laptop off of the night stand. I could go into details about machine specs, but I won’t bore you with the nerdiness. Let’s just say it’s top of the line with a web cam so I can record movies or video blog, which I promised my readers I would start doing, but when you come home covered in butter and gunk, starring in my own movie doesn’t sound so hot.
I opened up the laptop and logged in to my Wordpress site. I thought about using Xanga as my blog home, but I really appreciated the customization and professionalism Wordpress offered. My page loaded and I opened a new post. After a few moments of organizing my thoughts, I began to write.
Subject: Just another day in Paradise
Marcy Winkler gave a presentation in class today about the wrongs of Euthanasia. Ironic that a girl suspected of having an abortion Freshman year would share such an opinion. Sorry if that sounds judgmental, perhaps Marcy is a fine human being and learned from her mistakes, but the issue of abortion vs. euthanasia amuses me. How is a life within the womb so different from one without? Personally, I say to each his own, but some people have some very strong opposing thoughts on the subject.
On a lighter note, Brad poured too much butter into the popcorn machine today. The rancid burning smell invaded the whole theater. When we tried to dump it, a solid block of molten kernels and seeds poured out onto the rest of the popcorn. I would have thought the smoke would have caused the smoke detectors to go off, but alas, my evening adventure consisted solely of cleaning up after the newbie.
Well, I’m not really feeling it tonight so I am going to sign off of here. I’ll try to post something more meaningful tomorrow.
I pushed the submit button and stared at the screen for a moment. I contemplated deleting that post. It was sub par. I always tried to put something meaningful into my writing, even if sometimes it felt forced and like a chore. I knew so long as I made myself do it and put in the time, when brilliance struck those that stuck it out through the dark days would be excited to claim they knew Lala2009 before she hit it big. Besides, if I wanted to be an author someday, I would have to stick it out and hone my craft. Some people kept diaries, I let anyone who happened across my website see what my day to day life, hopes, and dreams were like. Besides, the idea of creating a following larger than 6 people who read and commented on my blog regularly was a little exciting. Being big on the internet wasn’t really that big a deal to me. It was like claiming to be someone or something’s number one fan. But in my small corner of existence, it was nice to imagine that there could be someone out there reading my blog, getting some insight into what it’s like being a teenager in Middle America.
The next afternoon I sat in my science class, twirling a pencil between my hands. My best friend Aaron was staring at me, willing me to pay attention, but being surrounded by posers as some failed scientist droned on and on about mitosis made me want to drive hot spoons into my eyes. Seriously what was the point? What was I going to learn about life and science in the next two years that I didn’t already know, or at least learn from a real professional rather than the excuse for baby-sitting public education has become? There’s a good blog post, though it may piss off all of my teachers if they found it, I thought, Public Education: Farce in Faculty. I liked it and started to smile as I stared at my pencil.
“Krysten, I don’t see how leaving my question hanging is amusing,” the man at the front of the room said. If only he knew how I was tearing him and his profession down in my head. “Perhaps some time in the office would help-“
“Krysten Mason, please report to the main office.”
“Looks like someone beat you to it Mr. M,” I said as I gathered my stuff.
Aaron looked up quizzically at me. I shrugged and headed out. It was weird walking the halls alone, empty. It was a different sort of invisibility then the type I’d been dealing with in this school. Aloneness not caused by popularity or finances, but complete solidarity as I made my way to the front office while the rest of the drones tried to soak up some sort of knowledge from the poser professionals. Another blog post, Posing Professionals: how educators mirror the environment they are in. I needed to write these down.
I opened the door to the office to see a frazzled looking secretary behind a desk. “I’m Krysten. There was an announcement.”
“Oh thank God you’re here. We were about to send security to find you. Ms. Henderson wants to see you in her office right away.” She stood up and looked me up and down. “Bless you child, you’re going to be on film looking like that? Teenagers today…” she shook her head as she opened the door and motioned me inside.
“There she is! Our bright and shining star!” Ms. Henderson practically shouted in her sing song way across the room. She stood up and rushed toward me, grabbing and shaking my hand vigorously. “Karen these men are from MTV! Apparently your blog has been chosen as a finalist for the ‘You Don’t Really Know Me’ series appearing this fall. They’re going to be filming you and putting it online so people can vote. It’ll look fabulous for our school to be represented.”
I stood there staring as she kept shaking my hand. I swear my arm felt like it had been dislocated. “Ms. Henderson, my name’s Krysten.”
“Oh yes, of course darling. Well these people were just coming to-“
“Excuse me Ms. Henderson, but allow me to introduce myself,” A woman in a gray suit stepped forward and removed Ms. Henderson’s claw from my arm. “I’m Samantha Ray, the producer. We know you entered your blog in our social action ring and have been keeping an eye on it. As Ms. Henderson said you’ve been selected for a month long webisode series for people to vote and decide if your blog will be a showcase in our new series. We have some paperwork for you to fill out, then we’ll head back home to talk to mom and dad about all this. What do you think?”
It’s ironic that I run a blog about all of the sarcastic comments I keep to myself and I couldn’t think of anything to say with a camera and captive audience write in front of me. It’s like the kids who sing in the shower to no one instead of putting themselves out there. So what does genius me respond in the face of national coverage and having real social commentary out there for the world to see? “So, I’m gonna be on TV?”
Samantha laughed. “Well the viewers will have to decide that, but potentially, yes, Krysten, you will be on TV.”
“I didn’t know anyone was reading my stuff.”
“Well you had some pretty important readers seeing as I am here. Your snarky and witty commentary is just the sort of edgy teen angst MTV is looking for. People are tired of whiny rich kids. They want something real. And you, my dear, are as real as they come.” Samantha smiled a million watt grin as she looked into the camera.
“Oh yes, Cathy is such an interesting person at this school. We all love her because she’s just so intuitive.” Ms. Henderson said as she came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “We are just so excited to have her as part of our learning community, and you all to be showcasing one of our best and brightest.”
I’m pretty sure my face was one of restrained horror and agony because the cameraman chortled behind his camera that I am going to lovingly refer to as the facemask.
“If you don’t mind Ms. Henderson, we’d like to talk to Krysten one on one as she gives us a short tour of the school. We’ll be checked out by passing period.”
“Yes, yes, that’s wonderful. It was a pleasure meeting you.” The producer and cameraman were then assaulted by more vigorous handshaking before we escaped into the hall.
“So here’s the deal K, mind if I call you K?” The producer was off down the hallway with facemask in tow as I tried to match their pace. “You’ve got this great angsty blog with a Mean Girls-esque feel but intelligent like Juno. So we’re going to be following you around basically 24/7 then going back and dubbing in some of your satirical comments. Will your parents be home this evening? I have reservations for 6 at Chateau Sangreal, fabulous food according to Urban Spoon at six and I expect to see you there. Josh make sure you get some wide angles of this staircase. It’ll make a great opening. Sound good, K?”
I stood there completely blown away by her speed then managed to blurt out, “Uh,” like a moron.
“Fabulous. Here’s my card, cell is listed on the bottom if you get lost. Ciao!” And as quickly as the blonde tornado had descended down onto Riverside High School she was gone with her entourage in tow. I stared at the card a minute, letting everything sink in, then wandered back to my class. I ignored Mr. M as I made my way back to my seat and sat down next to Aaron.
As Mr. M tried to get people back on track, the bell rang and the students all filtered out into the hallway.
“What was that about?” Aaron asked as he gathered his things.
I tried to collect my thoughts, but everything was so mixed up in my brain. “Apparently MTV has been reading my blog and entered me into some contest to have it on some special show. They’re going to follow me around for a couple of week and make webisodes, then the blogger with the most votes will get their own special.”
Aaron’s dark eyes looked like they were going to bug out of their perfectly shaped sockets. His lips turned up into a huge smile and he scooped me up, which was saying something as he is quite a bit taller and broader than I am. Ever wonder what it was like to have a real life bear hug? Hang out with Aaron and get him excited about something. “That is so awesome Krysten! I can’t believe it! All of those rants finally amounted to something.” He set me down and stared at me for a moment, his hands staying on my waist. I smiled at him then he let me go and ran a hand through his curly mop of hair.
“Yeah, it’s cool but I’m totally nervous. Would it be totally awkward to have my best friend come with me and my parents for a business dinner tonight?”
Aaron beamed. “I’d thought you'd never ask. And when you become a major star, don’t forget the little people.”
I laughed and punched him in the arm as we made our way to class through the sea of students flooding the halls.
The next morning I woke up extra early to try and make myself presentable. I took a leave of absence from the theater, which did not make boss lady happy but oh well, and was now trying to make my ridiculously straight blonde hair do something. Finally I relented, put on some eyeliner, and pulled on a black sweater dress. Perfect outer wear for the daytime student nighttime social commentator. I ran downstairs, shouted a hasty good-bye to my mom and ran out to the bucket to drive to school.
My parents were totally on board, mom naturally thought scholarships and dad was all like notoriety for the win. It was weird. Aaron was his normal supportive self, which may be why I thought no one else read my blog and was so hard on myself since Aaron thought everything I wrote was great, and although constant adoration is a plus it’s hard to get a judge if it’s really good or Aaron was just being my best friend. Apparently it was good.
But nothing could have prepared me for the huge crowd that was outside of school when I arrived. News crews, groups of students, parents, a mad rush of screamers all meandering about outside the school. Aaron was standing off to the side of the parking lot in our normal meeting spot. But as I stepped out of my car and walked over to him someone shouted “That’s her!” and the mad gathering of people descended on me. I’m pretty sure this is what Simba felt when all those crazy wildebeests were chasing him, only there was no Mufasa to save me.
“Krysten, you’re my best friend!”
“Can we eat lunch?”
“Our viewers would like to know your site url!”
“Where did you get those boots?”
“Krysten!”
“Krysten!”
I wanted to scream and run back to the bucket, but I kept trying to push through the sea of flashes, screams, and microphones. I felt a hand grip my shoulder and turned feeling so afraid and vulnerable, but it was Aaron pushing people aside and dragging me up to the main entrance. We got inside, the press stayed out, and stopped against the stairwell breathing hard.
“That was intense,” I said.
“I can’t believe you didn’t expect this. It was all over the news.” Aaron gasped.
“How was I supposed to know? We were at dinner till late,” I cried in defense.
“I should have warned you. I’m really sorry. Are you ok?” His hand ran down my arm where he had dragged me to safety.
“I’m cool, just shaken up. Aaron is officially promoted to bodyguard extraordinaire. Now let’s get to homeroom.” Aaron smiled and walked me to my class as people started to filter in.
“The two Musketeers,” I said and pounded fists.
“See you at lunch,” and with a beaming smile he was gone.
Sadly I entered my homeroom, a collection of the most popular bimbos and stereotypes during their early morning preening. I was early so I could get a seat in the invisible section at the back.
Man was I surprised when Sara Martinez walked right up to me clutching her Coach bag. “Hey Krysten, cool boots,” she said pulling up a desk near me.
I smiled awkwardly and pulled out a notebook to doodle.
“Some of the girls and I were talking, and we’d really like it if you ate lunch with us today.”
I gave her a half smile and rolled my eyes. But my snarky and pessimistic attitude took a huge blow when Sara stood up after the bell rang.
“I’d just like to say how great it is to have someone so smart and independent in our group. Krysten is an inspiration to all of us and I would love if she would read to us some selections from her writing.”
I stared at her then let out my now famous “Uh.”
“It’s ok if you’re nervous. I talked to Ms. Walker and she gave me this really awesome piece you wrote for English,” Sara cleared her throat. “’Looking at Moby Dick from this perspective, all of us should do well enough to find an insurmountable task to focus on and obsess about so as no life or moment can go without meaning.’ I wish I could find something so passionate to talk about. So today’s brag bag is Krysten and how wrong we’ve been to overlook her for the genius she is.”
I sat dumbstruck staring at her legs as the other 10 girls in the class rose clapping.
“I would feel more than privileged to talk about Hamlet and social commentary from our age group at lunch. That is, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for not being more accepting of you.”
I wanted to cry. For the first time in years, people were looking at me for answers and ideas. I wasn’t invisible; people were just scared to talk to me. “I’d love to.” I said.
Aaron was not so happy. I mean he wasn’t mad, but he did point out that they haven’t given a rat about what I said in class or wrote for the paper or blog until today. I told him it’d be another social experiment, to which he rolled his eyes and walked off.
For two weeks the camera followed me as I interacted with the social elite. Boys asked me out! The girls made me over. And Aaron just kinda hung out in the background and talked to me online after school.
By the time the film crew was wrapping up, they were a bit disappointed at the robot that I had transformed into. Perfectly manicured nails, make-up, hair, and accessories is what they saw, and it was taking a toll on my commentary. But nothing sunk in until Samantha and my parents sat me down.
“I just want you to know the polls are not in your favor, chica. People don’t want to see a robot and prep being accepted. It’s not called how to become the world, but how to change it. Everything is suffering from this portrayal, and you were the strongest candidate,” Samantha said.
“We’ve also noticed a change in your grades and behavior. What happened to the witty intelligent daughter we supported and cared for? Nothing could shake you, but now you are different down to your core, sweetheart. Where is the strength and independence we had known from you?” My mom said.
Dad smiled sweetly from the couch and said he loved his pumpkin.
“I’m the same. You all just can’t accept that I have friends and I’m happy.” I stormed off upstairs and got online to tell my new friends. Christy said my parents were so out of date and probably jealous because they were never popular. Sara had to go because her boyfriend just showed up. Alex, mister flirt and most popular guy in school, wanted to know if his new hairstyle was cool enough for TV.
All of a sudden I realized that they were right. I had become the poser I hated. I messaged Aaron for the first time in over a week.
“So you remembered I exist? I’m not going to cause social suicide by maintaining a relationship? Oh wait, online is secret, just like you secretly poked fun at the lemmings you became.”
“Ok Aaron, I deserved that. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and see if you could help me figure out how to make this all right.”
“You need to admit what you did in a real way,” he said.
“How?” I asked.
“Video blog who you are really are, and out all of the crap you’ve done.”
“But that is social suicide!” I whined.
“You need to reveal what happened when you went to the dark side; how shallow and stupid they all are. Otherwise you are just as bad as all the rest, and not the woman I thought you were.”
And then it hit me. None of those people gave a crap about me. Aaron tried to save me, supported me, and was the only person I could depend on. I treated him like dirt and he was still here, telling me how to make it all better. I couldn’t let him go down alone. Two musketeers, right?
“I’ve got this,” and signed out.
I pushed record and settled down in front of the screen.
“So this is the first video blog of Krysten Mason, big time poser and wannabe. I always valued that I was different, edgy, and sarcastic. Then I got a little bit of attention of some popular people and slipped down into the same behavior as them. I am the epitome of peer pressure and I’m ashamed. Once I said that everyone should find something to obsess over, but I don’t think that everyone obsessing about the same thing is worth it. I wanted to be the change, but then I became the status quo. What I’m telling you, after this Odysseus journey into the bowels of the Underworld, is that to sell your soul for superficial friendships might seem like fun, what makes someone special is their ability to go against the grain, to swim upstream, and to stand out in their invisibility. I’ve learned a lot about who I am and who my friends are, and in reality, I’m a bigger jerk than anyone else because in my heart I knew exactly what I was doing.
“I want to apologize to my parents and readers who have not been getting what my vision states: social commentary on the status quo from someone with a brain. But most importantly I need to apologize to the one person who saw me when I was invisible. Aaron, if you’re watching this and can find it in your heart to forgive me, I-“ but a knock on my door had me getting up with the camera rolling.
Aaron stepped into my room and turned the camera. “I’ve sat and waited for things to happen for too long, and I’ve realized that just sitting here will not make any change. I’m taking this moment to admit that I love Krysten Mason for her smart aleck, rude, sarcastic comments. But, I didn’t realize how fragile and tenuous our relationship could be. Krysten, I promise I will never let you lose yourself again, and as your unofficial official bodyguard I will protect from all the demons of this world, including yourself.” In one swift movement he leaned up from the bed and the camera, pulled me close, and pressed his lips to mine in a moment of passion and acceptance I had been looking for in all the wrong places.
When he let me go, I smiled and stared into his eyes, and with one quick movement, pushed post.
Title: Open Book
Genre: YA, angst, short story
WC: 4228
Warnings: none, some mild language
My life is an open book. Or at least that’s the title of my blog. Yes, I’m one of those people. Member of the digital age, spoiled white American, whiny teenager. I am all of that and so much more. Well, I guess I’m not all of that. Although I would be classified as upper-middle class demographically speaking, I did have to get an after school job giving popcorn to wannabes and horn dogs from my school five nights a week to buy my laptop and pay for my car. My parents want to teach me responsibility and the value of a dollar, though sometimes I wish they’d just give me the dollar. After seeing the pampered princesses walking into Riverside Theater on a Friday night clutching their Coach bags and stuffing Lexus keys into their Tommy Hilfiger jeans, completely unaware of anything that doesn’t center around their own selfish desires and thoughts, I totally get where my parents are coming from, though that still doesn’t stop the resentment from building knowing I’m not, nor will I be, like one of those people in my class.
I’m a loner. I’m not bad looking, at least I don’t think so, but I’m not anything special. I’m pretty skinny with dark hair that I keep long and brown eyes. I drive a 1998 Chevy Cavalier, not really turning heads as I drive around the Riverside High School parking lot. Most people think that the type of car they drive defines them. I think my car says that I wanted something to get me from here to there that wouldn’t break down every five minutes, well, most days it won’t break down every five minutes. Anyway, most people have me pegged as the loner, or a nerd, which suits me fine at school. But there is so much more to me than that. At night, when I am at home in my room, I have a whole different persona. I wasn’t just Krysten Mason: popcorn extraordinaire, high school loner, uncool car driver, Junior without Daddy’s credit card. I was Lala2009. At home in my room, my real personality comes out every time I sign in to my blog.
Tonight I was walking up to my room after a long shift at work. I was supposed to be off at 10:30, but I didn’t end up getting finished with everything until 11:30. I had some calculus homework to start on, but I could do that during first period. Besides, 11:50 at night was too late to start math homework. It was only two problems and math is my strongest subject. My parents were upstairs already, probably watching some crime drama rerun or the news. I stepped into my room and shut the door. After tossing my shoes into the closet, I sat down on my bed and pulled my laptop off of the night stand. I could go into details about machine specs, but I won’t bore you with the nerdiness. Let’s just say it’s top of the line with a web cam so I can record movies or video blog, which I promised my readers I would start doing, but when you come home covered in butter and gunk, starring in my own movie doesn’t sound so hot.
I opened up the laptop and logged in to my Wordpress site. I thought about using Xanga as my blog home, but I really appreciated the customization and professionalism Wordpress offered. My page loaded and I opened a new post. After a few moments of organizing my thoughts, I began to write.
Subject: Just another day in Paradise
Marcy Winkler gave a presentation in class today about the wrongs of Euthanasia. Ironic that a girl suspected of having an abortion Freshman year would share such an opinion. Sorry if that sounds judgmental, perhaps Marcy is a fine human being and learned from her mistakes, but the issue of abortion vs. euthanasia amuses me. How is a life within the womb so different from one without? Personally, I say to each his own, but some people have some very strong opposing thoughts on the subject.
On a lighter note, Brad poured too much butter into the popcorn machine today. The rancid burning smell invaded the whole theater. When we tried to dump it, a solid block of molten kernels and seeds poured out onto the rest of the popcorn. I would have thought the smoke would have caused the smoke detectors to go off, but alas, my evening adventure consisted solely of cleaning up after the newbie.
Well, I’m not really feeling it tonight so I am going to sign off of here. I’ll try to post something more meaningful tomorrow.
I pushed the submit button and stared at the screen for a moment. I contemplated deleting that post. It was sub par. I always tried to put something meaningful into my writing, even if sometimes it felt forced and like a chore. I knew so long as I made myself do it and put in the time, when brilliance struck those that stuck it out through the dark days would be excited to claim they knew Lala2009 before she hit it big. Besides, if I wanted to be an author someday, I would have to stick it out and hone my craft. Some people kept diaries, I let anyone who happened across my website see what my day to day life, hopes, and dreams were like. Besides, the idea of creating a following larger than 6 people who read and commented on my blog regularly was a little exciting. Being big on the internet wasn’t really that big a deal to me. It was like claiming to be someone or something’s number one fan. But in my small corner of existence, it was nice to imagine that there could be someone out there reading my blog, getting some insight into what it’s like being a teenager in Middle America.
The next afternoon I sat in my science class, twirling a pencil between my hands. My best friend Aaron was staring at me, willing me to pay attention, but being surrounded by posers as some failed scientist droned on and on about mitosis made me want to drive hot spoons into my eyes. Seriously what was the point? What was I going to learn about life and science in the next two years that I didn’t already know, or at least learn from a real professional rather than the excuse for baby-sitting public education has become? There’s a good blog post, though it may piss off all of my teachers if they found it, I thought, Public Education: Farce in Faculty. I liked it and started to smile as I stared at my pencil.
“Krysten, I don’t see how leaving my question hanging is amusing,” the man at the front of the room said. If only he knew how I was tearing him and his profession down in my head. “Perhaps some time in the office would help-“
“Krysten Mason, please report to the main office.”
“Looks like someone beat you to it Mr. M,” I said as I gathered my stuff.
Aaron looked up quizzically at me. I shrugged and headed out. It was weird walking the halls alone, empty. It was a different sort of invisibility then the type I’d been dealing with in this school. Aloneness not caused by popularity or finances, but complete solidarity as I made my way to the front office while the rest of the drones tried to soak up some sort of knowledge from the poser professionals. Another blog post, Posing Professionals: how educators mirror the environment they are in. I needed to write these down.
I opened the door to the office to see a frazzled looking secretary behind a desk. “I’m Krysten. There was an announcement.”
“Oh thank God you’re here. We were about to send security to find you. Ms. Henderson wants to see you in her office right away.” She stood up and looked me up and down. “Bless you child, you’re going to be on film looking like that? Teenagers today…” she shook her head as she opened the door and motioned me inside.
“There she is! Our bright and shining star!” Ms. Henderson practically shouted in her sing song way across the room. She stood up and rushed toward me, grabbing and shaking my hand vigorously. “Karen these men are from MTV! Apparently your blog has been chosen as a finalist for the ‘You Don’t Really Know Me’ series appearing this fall. They’re going to be filming you and putting it online so people can vote. It’ll look fabulous for our school to be represented.”
I stood there staring as she kept shaking my hand. I swear my arm felt like it had been dislocated. “Ms. Henderson, my name’s Krysten.”
“Oh yes, of course darling. Well these people were just coming to-“
“Excuse me Ms. Henderson, but allow me to introduce myself,” A woman in a gray suit stepped forward and removed Ms. Henderson’s claw from my arm. “I’m Samantha Ray, the producer. We know you entered your blog in our social action ring and have been keeping an eye on it. As Ms. Henderson said you’ve been selected for a month long webisode series for people to vote and decide if your blog will be a showcase in our new series. We have some paperwork for you to fill out, then we’ll head back home to talk to mom and dad about all this. What do you think?”
It’s ironic that I run a blog about all of the sarcastic comments I keep to myself and I couldn’t think of anything to say with a camera and captive audience write in front of me. It’s like the kids who sing in the shower to no one instead of putting themselves out there. So what does genius me respond in the face of national coverage and having real social commentary out there for the world to see? “So, I’m gonna be on TV?”
Samantha laughed. “Well the viewers will have to decide that, but potentially, yes, Krysten, you will be on TV.”
“I didn’t know anyone was reading my stuff.”
“Well you had some pretty important readers seeing as I am here. Your snarky and witty commentary is just the sort of edgy teen angst MTV is looking for. People are tired of whiny rich kids. They want something real. And you, my dear, are as real as they come.” Samantha smiled a million watt grin as she looked into the camera.
“Oh yes, Cathy is such an interesting person at this school. We all love her because she’s just so intuitive.” Ms. Henderson said as she came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “We are just so excited to have her as part of our learning community, and you all to be showcasing one of our best and brightest.”
I’m pretty sure my face was one of restrained horror and agony because the cameraman chortled behind his camera that I am going to lovingly refer to as the facemask.
“If you don’t mind Ms. Henderson, we’d like to talk to Krysten one on one as she gives us a short tour of the school. We’ll be checked out by passing period.”
“Yes, yes, that’s wonderful. It was a pleasure meeting you.” The producer and cameraman were then assaulted by more vigorous handshaking before we escaped into the hall.
“So here’s the deal K, mind if I call you K?” The producer was off down the hallway with facemask in tow as I tried to match their pace. “You’ve got this great angsty blog with a Mean Girls-esque feel but intelligent like Juno. So we’re going to be following you around basically 24/7 then going back and dubbing in some of your satirical comments. Will your parents be home this evening? I have reservations for 6 at Chateau Sangreal, fabulous food according to Urban Spoon at six and I expect to see you there. Josh make sure you get some wide angles of this staircase. It’ll make a great opening. Sound good, K?”
I stood there completely blown away by her speed then managed to blurt out, “Uh,” like a moron.
“Fabulous. Here’s my card, cell is listed on the bottom if you get lost. Ciao!” And as quickly as the blonde tornado had descended down onto Riverside High School she was gone with her entourage in tow. I stared at the card a minute, letting everything sink in, then wandered back to my class. I ignored Mr. M as I made my way back to my seat and sat down next to Aaron.
As Mr. M tried to get people back on track, the bell rang and the students all filtered out into the hallway.
“What was that about?” Aaron asked as he gathered his things.
I tried to collect my thoughts, but everything was so mixed up in my brain. “Apparently MTV has been reading my blog and entered me into some contest to have it on some special show. They’re going to follow me around for a couple of week and make webisodes, then the blogger with the most votes will get their own special.”
Aaron’s dark eyes looked like they were going to bug out of their perfectly shaped sockets. His lips turned up into a huge smile and he scooped me up, which was saying something as he is quite a bit taller and broader than I am. Ever wonder what it was like to have a real life bear hug? Hang out with Aaron and get him excited about something. “That is so awesome Krysten! I can’t believe it! All of those rants finally amounted to something.” He set me down and stared at me for a moment, his hands staying on my waist. I smiled at him then he let me go and ran a hand through his curly mop of hair.
“Yeah, it’s cool but I’m totally nervous. Would it be totally awkward to have my best friend come with me and my parents for a business dinner tonight?”
Aaron beamed. “I’d thought you'd never ask. And when you become a major star, don’t forget the little people.”
I laughed and punched him in the arm as we made our way to class through the sea of students flooding the halls.
The next morning I woke up extra early to try and make myself presentable. I took a leave of absence from the theater, which did not make boss lady happy but oh well, and was now trying to make my ridiculously straight blonde hair do something. Finally I relented, put on some eyeliner, and pulled on a black sweater dress. Perfect outer wear for the daytime student nighttime social commentator. I ran downstairs, shouted a hasty good-bye to my mom and ran out to the bucket to drive to school.
My parents were totally on board, mom naturally thought scholarships and dad was all like notoriety for the win. It was weird. Aaron was his normal supportive self, which may be why I thought no one else read my blog and was so hard on myself since Aaron thought everything I wrote was great, and although constant adoration is a plus it’s hard to get a judge if it’s really good or Aaron was just being my best friend. Apparently it was good.
But nothing could have prepared me for the huge crowd that was outside of school when I arrived. News crews, groups of students, parents, a mad rush of screamers all meandering about outside the school. Aaron was standing off to the side of the parking lot in our normal meeting spot. But as I stepped out of my car and walked over to him someone shouted “That’s her!” and the mad gathering of people descended on me. I’m pretty sure this is what Simba felt when all those crazy wildebeests were chasing him, only there was no Mufasa to save me.
“Krysten, you’re my best friend!”
“Can we eat lunch?”
“Our viewers would like to know your site url!”
“Where did you get those boots?”
“Krysten!”
“Krysten!”
I wanted to scream and run back to the bucket, but I kept trying to push through the sea of flashes, screams, and microphones. I felt a hand grip my shoulder and turned feeling so afraid and vulnerable, but it was Aaron pushing people aside and dragging me up to the main entrance. We got inside, the press stayed out, and stopped against the stairwell breathing hard.
“That was intense,” I said.
“I can’t believe you didn’t expect this. It was all over the news.” Aaron gasped.
“How was I supposed to know? We were at dinner till late,” I cried in defense.
“I should have warned you. I’m really sorry. Are you ok?” His hand ran down my arm where he had dragged me to safety.
“I’m cool, just shaken up. Aaron is officially promoted to bodyguard extraordinaire. Now let’s get to homeroom.” Aaron smiled and walked me to my class as people started to filter in.
“The two Musketeers,” I said and pounded fists.
“See you at lunch,” and with a beaming smile he was gone.
Sadly I entered my homeroom, a collection of the most popular bimbos and stereotypes during their early morning preening. I was early so I could get a seat in the invisible section at the back.
Man was I surprised when Sara Martinez walked right up to me clutching her Coach bag. “Hey Krysten, cool boots,” she said pulling up a desk near me.
I smiled awkwardly and pulled out a notebook to doodle.
“Some of the girls and I were talking, and we’d really like it if you ate lunch with us today.”
I gave her a half smile and rolled my eyes. But my snarky and pessimistic attitude took a huge blow when Sara stood up after the bell rang.
“I’d just like to say how great it is to have someone so smart and independent in our group. Krysten is an inspiration to all of us and I would love if she would read to us some selections from her writing.”
I stared at her then let out my now famous “Uh.”
“It’s ok if you’re nervous. I talked to Ms. Walker and she gave me this really awesome piece you wrote for English,” Sara cleared her throat. “’Looking at Moby Dick from this perspective, all of us should do well enough to find an insurmountable task to focus on and obsess about so as no life or moment can go without meaning.’ I wish I could find something so passionate to talk about. So today’s brag bag is Krysten and how wrong we’ve been to overlook her for the genius she is.”
I sat dumbstruck staring at her legs as the other 10 girls in the class rose clapping.
“I would feel more than privileged to talk about Hamlet and social commentary from our age group at lunch. That is, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for not being more accepting of you.”
I wanted to cry. For the first time in years, people were looking at me for answers and ideas. I wasn’t invisible; people were just scared to talk to me. “I’d love to.” I said.
Aaron was not so happy. I mean he wasn’t mad, but he did point out that they haven’t given a rat about what I said in class or wrote for the paper or blog until today. I told him it’d be another social experiment, to which he rolled his eyes and walked off.
For two weeks the camera followed me as I interacted with the social elite. Boys asked me out! The girls made me over. And Aaron just kinda hung out in the background and talked to me online after school.
By the time the film crew was wrapping up, they were a bit disappointed at the robot that I had transformed into. Perfectly manicured nails, make-up, hair, and accessories is what they saw, and it was taking a toll on my commentary. But nothing sunk in until Samantha and my parents sat me down.
“I just want you to know the polls are not in your favor, chica. People don’t want to see a robot and prep being accepted. It’s not called how to become the world, but how to change it. Everything is suffering from this portrayal, and you were the strongest candidate,” Samantha said.
“We’ve also noticed a change in your grades and behavior. What happened to the witty intelligent daughter we supported and cared for? Nothing could shake you, but now you are different down to your core, sweetheart. Where is the strength and independence we had known from you?” My mom said.
Dad smiled sweetly from the couch and said he loved his pumpkin.
“I’m the same. You all just can’t accept that I have friends and I’m happy.” I stormed off upstairs and got online to tell my new friends. Christy said my parents were so out of date and probably jealous because they were never popular. Sara had to go because her boyfriend just showed up. Alex, mister flirt and most popular guy in school, wanted to know if his new hairstyle was cool enough for TV.
All of a sudden I realized that they were right. I had become the poser I hated. I messaged Aaron for the first time in over a week.
“So you remembered I exist? I’m not going to cause social suicide by maintaining a relationship? Oh wait, online is secret, just like you secretly poked fun at the lemmings you became.”
“Ok Aaron, I deserved that. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and see if you could help me figure out how to make this all right.”
“You need to admit what you did in a real way,” he said.
“How?” I asked.
“Video blog who you are really are, and out all of the crap you’ve done.”
“But that is social suicide!” I whined.
“You need to reveal what happened when you went to the dark side; how shallow and stupid they all are. Otherwise you are just as bad as all the rest, and not the woman I thought you were.”
And then it hit me. None of those people gave a crap about me. Aaron tried to save me, supported me, and was the only person I could depend on. I treated him like dirt and he was still here, telling me how to make it all better. I couldn’t let him go down alone. Two musketeers, right?
“I’ve got this,” and signed out.
I pushed record and settled down in front of the screen.
“So this is the first video blog of Krysten Mason, big time poser and wannabe. I always valued that I was different, edgy, and sarcastic. Then I got a little bit of attention of some popular people and slipped down into the same behavior as them. I am the epitome of peer pressure and I’m ashamed. Once I said that everyone should find something to obsess over, but I don’t think that everyone obsessing about the same thing is worth it. I wanted to be the change, but then I became the status quo. What I’m telling you, after this Odysseus journey into the bowels of the Underworld, is that to sell your soul for superficial friendships might seem like fun, what makes someone special is their ability to go against the grain, to swim upstream, and to stand out in their invisibility. I’ve learned a lot about who I am and who my friends are, and in reality, I’m a bigger jerk than anyone else because in my heart I knew exactly what I was doing.
“I want to apologize to my parents and readers who have not been getting what my vision states: social commentary on the status quo from someone with a brain. But most importantly I need to apologize to the one person who saw me when I was invisible. Aaron, if you’re watching this and can find it in your heart to forgive me, I-“ but a knock on my door had me getting up with the camera rolling.
Aaron stepped into my room and turned the camera. “I’ve sat and waited for things to happen for too long, and I’ve realized that just sitting here will not make any change. I’m taking this moment to admit that I love Krysten Mason for her smart aleck, rude, sarcastic comments. But, I didn’t realize how fragile and tenuous our relationship could be. Krysten, I promise I will never let you lose yourself again, and as your unofficial official bodyguard I will protect from all the demons of this world, including yourself.” In one swift movement he leaned up from the bed and the camera, pulled me close, and pressed his lips to mine in a moment of passion and acceptance I had been looking for in all the wrong places.
When he let me go, I smiled and stared into his eyes, and with one quick movement, pushed post.