Teen, Inc. Read online

  Nate shrunk a little, disappointed. I felt bad. But then his eyes narrowed. “Why weren’t you on the bus?”

  “My alarm clock’s busted. I got a ride.”

  Lame. According to the 4Bs, the second lie always is. It says you don’t get really warmed up until the third or fourth. Nate didn’t notice anything weird about what I was saying, he was too busy noticing the bandage on my arm with its dollop of dark red still seeping through the cotton.

  “Wicked,” he said.

  I smiled, thinking here was an opportunity to use my own strategy, hiding in plain sight. “I cut it on a rusty fence while a cop was chasing me,” I said.

  “Yeah, right,” Nate said,

  His head twisted. “So how did it go?”

  “I fell into a river and got away.”

  “Not the fantasy, stupid. Saturday. Jenny. Project Hook-up.”

  I looked at the clock like it was later than it was and said, “Lunch” again in that noncommittal tone of voice.

  “Are you kidding me? Tell me, right now … unless … you messed it up, didn’t you? You totally messed it up.”

  Here at least I allowed myself a little genuine honesty. “Pretty much,” I said, nodding.

  Nate scrunched his mouth into a small O then asked, “So, what’d you do? Try to grope her or something?”

  I shook my head, relieved to be annoyed at him. “No! What about you? You ever use Caitlin’s chat-room handle now that you’ve had it forever?”

  He grabbed his heart and made his classic face-of-pain.

  “Touché, mein freunde,” he said, stumbling backward. “Touché.”

  The bell rang. He started walking backward down the hall. “I still want details. You owe me details. At lunch.”

  He disappeared into the “milling” crowd, leaving me feeling like I’d hurt him somehow. I should have told him. He’s my best friend after all, and Nancy was right when she said it wasn’t going to be a secret forever. Nate was just warped enough to think it was cool, anyway. But the 4Bs was ringing in my head: If No One Knows About It, It Isn’t Real.

  And I didn’t want any of it to be real.

  As I walked to homeroom, I came up with more lies, like an explanation for Tony, in case Nate or someone saw me driving home with him: He’s my long lost half-brother. He had amnesia after a car accident and just remembered who he was.

  Smooth, huh? I was becoming a great little 4B follower. I was even stupid enough to think for a minute or two that maybe Jenny wouldn’t remember what had happened, that somehow it would still be Friday for her, too.

  But it wasn’t. And there’s no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny, I hear, either. At least that’s what the memo said. Matt Bolton, my Team Leader before “Smiling” Al, never had the guts to tell me face-to-face. It’s not my joke but Matt was what they call a “seagull manager”—he flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything, then flies out.

  Ironically, I believe he was fired via memo.

  I continued to bask in the illusion of a normal day. In homeroom, the teacher didn’t make any announcements about me. She just took attendance and sent us on our merry way. I nodded at Tony as I passed him in the hall and he gave me a discreet thumbs-up.

  Math was my first class, then ancient history, so I thought I had a couple of hours of daydreaming to look forward to before Jenny and biology, but I was wrong about that, too. No sooner did I turn a corner, than I walked into her. We literally bumped foreheads. Her hair kind of flew forward into my face and I caught a whiff of fruity-smelling shampoo. Either that or she was eating one of those watermelon candies again.

  We both took a step back. I got a good look at her, thinking I should take it all in, because it might be my last chance to see her without hearing how she hated me. Looking down as I rubbed my head, I could see she was wearing capris and a pink shirt. The capris showed off her calves, which kind of made me dizzy on top of the rush of fear. Then I looked up at her pretty face, surprised to see how tired she looked.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “Oh,” I said back. Then I threw in a terrified, “hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Practically at the same time, we both said, “Are you okay?” Which I guess would have been adorable, if my throat hadn’t felt like it was crammed with pebbles and sand.

  Then she said it. “You’re the kid who was adopted by NECorp thirteen years ago, aren’t you?”

  I felt like I swallowed all the pebbles and they were sitting in my stomach. I felt like you’d have to put more clothes on me before I could even feel naked.

  “How’d you guess?” I asked. Realizing how stupid this was, I followed up with, “Was it all the lawyers at the house, or did you just Google my name?”

  She shrugged. “Both. There were a lot of baby pictures of you, then after about age five, nothing.”

  “People got bored with it, I guess.” I looked down the hall. Tony was pretending to hang some poster or something. I looked back at Jenny.

  “Did you tell anyone?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m not that uncool. But anyone can Google you. You didn’t even change your name. It’s not tough to figure out. What made you think you could keep it secret?”

  “Because you’ll only figure it out if you’re looking, and before today, no one had a reason to look. It’s called hiding in plain sight.”

  “You could’ve just told me.”

  “I could have?”

  “Well, no, probably not. I don’t think my dad would like it very much. But I’m sorry I freaked. It was so lame of me to run out. I just wasn’t expecting, you know …lawyers.”

  Looking back, I should have paid more attention to that crack about her dad, but I was deeply distracted by the fact that she was actually apologizing to me.

  “And … and … I’m sorry … that I am a freak.”

  That was an opening, see? I wanted her to say something like, “Oh Jaiden, you’re not a freak.”

  But she didn’t, instead she said, “Jaiden, it’s not your fault.”

  Could have been worse. At least she didn’t say, “Jaiden, it’s not your fault you’re a freak.” That would have really sucked.

  By now my heart was racing and my brain was zipping off in all sorts of directions. Mostly, I wanted to know if Jenny was really okay with me being who I am, or if this was just like one of those formal apologies and she’d also be sorry that she never wanted to be seen with me again.

  The most clever way of finding out was, of course, by asking:

  “So … what do you want to do about the bio project?”

  “I could tell Ms. Chrob who you are and ask for another partner on the grounds that it’s too freaky.”

  My eyes went wide. “Please … don’t.”

  She looked at me like I was crazy then giggled. “Of course I won’t! I’m sorry. I was just kidding.”

  Then, playfully, she punched me in the arm. Right in the bandage.

  “Ow!” I said. Because, you know, it hurt.

  She did a girly gasp and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see the bandage!”

  Right. How could she miss it? It was like a quarter of the length of my arm and had that dollop of blood on it. Then, out of nowhere, she started rubbing it with her hand and saying, “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Are you okay?”

  Which made me think maybe she just hit it so she’d have an excuse to touch me. I can dream, can’t I?

  I gave her a combination of a smile and a frown that I imagine made me look kind of cute. “So … still partners?”

  Still smiling, she nodded. “Yeah, but next time let’s meet at my house. Tomorrow after school?”

  I wanted her to say it again a couple of times. Not because I hadn’t heard her, just because I liked the way it sounded.

  “Sounds good,” I said. Feeling daring, I poked her on the shoulder. “I’ll have my people call your people.”

  It took her a few seconds before she got the joke, but then she flashed
a smile and whirled away.

  She knew I was watching her, because as she walked down the hall, she stuck her hand up and waved backward at me. That’s the kind of thing I’d never try in a million years, because if there wasn’t someone standing there watching you wave, you’d look pretty stupid. So she knew.

  As she passed Eyeballs, he looked at me and gave me another thumbs-up. It wasn’t even first period and the guy was already a pain.

  I was late for class, but as soon as it ended, I headed into the bathroom and flipped open my cell to call Nancy. You’re not allowed to use cell phones in the school except in an emergency. I think by emergency they mean if someone’s choking to death or some kids are shooting up the halls with rifles. For me, this counted, too.

  “This better not be about Anthony,” she said.

  “It’s not. And again, I am so sorry about the way I talked to you at the last meeting, but Jenny wants me to go to her house tomorrow to work on the bio project.”

  “That’s great, Jaiden,” Nancy said. She actually sounded pleased.

  I got to the point of the call: “Anthony. Can’t. Come.”

  “Jaiden, wait…”

  “No. No way is Tony coming. Look, I know you’ve got your job to worry about here, but there’s got to be something else we can do. Can’t you just find one of those collars you can put around my ankle so you can track me by computer?”

  There was silence for a while, then, “I don’t know if it’s legal, but I’ll look into it.”

  The line went dead. I clamped my hand into a fist and said, “Yes!”

  Of course then I started wondering if the collar would be small enough to hide under the cuff of my pants.

  It took forever to slog through second period, but bio was heaven. I got there early, sat right behind Jenny, and talked with her before class started. I think even the stuff Chrob was talking about may have been interesting, but I might have just been in a good mood. The next two periods were another slog, but then it was lunch.

  “What are you smiling about?” Nate said, throwing a fry at me. Deever cafeteria fries are soggy and heavy, not crisp and light like the ones at NECorp, so they don’t throw very well. It just sort of flopped onto the linoleum at my feet. “I thought you completely screwed up things with Jenny.”

  “I was totally wrong,” I said, sliding into the seat opposite him with my tray. I flicked a cheesy pasta elbow at him with my spork. Sporks give you much better accuracy and speed than a free throw. It landed in his hair near his right ear. Clearly, I was in the zone. “Things are going great. I’m going to her house tomorrow.”

  “It’s the Jade-master!” Nate beamed.

  “Nate, you know those bracelets they put around your ankle if you’re a prisoner, so they can track you?”

  “Yeah?” he said, swatting the piece of macaroni out of his hair.

  “How big are those things exactly?”

  Yeah, yeah, I didn’t tell him about NECorp or about running away and the cops, but by now I was figuring I would later on. I mean, here I was thinking my life was all over, and now everything was working out great.

  At the time, I didn’t realize this was all just the calm before the storm and Bob’s Big Book of Business wasn’t going to help me whether I did what it said, or not.

  I was going to be on my own.

  9

  BACK IN THE BLACK AND BLUE

  As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about a tracking device. Nancy assured me they could track me through my cell phone. I knew this was possible, there are even Web sites that do it for you, but I wasn’t sure if she knew that. Either way, I wasn’t going to mess with her, not after she was being so gracious.

  See, in an effort to bolster her case with Bungrin, she spent the afternoon reading some book about adolescence for idiots that said we needed freedom, but with limits, or we’d explode and become Goth-killer drug addicts. That was enough for her to stick, or maybe cling, to her theory that NECorp’s interference in my social life caused me to run away in the first place. If things were going fine with Jenny, I’d have a reason to stay. Don’t fix it if it’s not broken, right? So, she took it upon herself to let me sail solo.

  After school Tuesday, Eyeballs just drove off in his inconspicuous car, and I was all of a sudden free again. Or, as Ben had said, free as a man can be.

  But there I was, walking with Jenny. It was a great fall day, with a nice crisp wind blowing dried leaves all over the place. We took turns trying to stomp them out of midair, making them crunch beneath our sneakers. Jenny almost fell once and I had to catch her. Well, she probably wasn’t really falling and I probably didn’t really have to catch her, but it was still nice.

  Bumping shoulders, we walked through the field in back of the school, then out among the big suburban houses in the development. It all made the parking lot at the shopping center feel like another world, the weekend like a bad dream.

  Then, out of nowhere, she asked, “So what’s it like being raised by a corporation?”

  I wanted to say something intelligent. I thought about using my prepared speech for the eventual television interview. But instead, I just said, “I don’t know. What’s it like to be raised by two parents?”

  She looked a little disappointed, like she was trying to start an interesting conversation to get to know me better and I screwed it up.

  “I know my parents love me. They raised me by choice. NECorp doesn’t love you.”

  “No,” I said, “but I love Big Brother.”

  And she thought she wasn’t cool. I thought it would be funny, but after I heard myself say it, I realized it was cryptic and weird. This was confirmed a second later when Jenny scrunched her face and said, “Huh?”

  I rattled my brain and started kicking dead leaves.

  “I’m still raised by people, really. Corporations are made up of people, aren’t they?”

  I never in a million years thought I’d be defending NECorp, but Nancy had just put her job on the line so I could be here with Jenny, and, well, it was okay for me to hassle them, they were my parent corporation, after all. But Jenny was still sort of a stranger.

  She didn’t take it well.

  “The people don’t matter. They just serve the corporation, and the corporation only exists to make a profit.”

  I stopped kicking leaves and looked at her. I mean, there are arguments on both sides, right?

  “So they showed that documentary in your history class last week, too, huh?” I said.

  “Come on, Jaiden, do any of those people really care about you like a family, or are you just like a product to them?”

  I thought about Nancy and Bungrin, and Mr. Hammond. Then I thought about Ben.

  “Both,” I said. I’m not sure why her question made me incredibly antsy—I guess because it felt like she was implying there was something wrong with me because of how I was raised.

  I left it like that for a while, but I wanted to say something intelligent, so, yeah, I dug up one of those answers I made up for my television interview, and, about a half block later, went into my little sound byte.

  “Okay. It’s like I’m living inside this machine, and, yeah, I’m just a product to it, but so’s everyone else, because the machine can only see things as products. But there are people living with me inside the machine, and some of them care about me, and some of them know how to work the machine. I mean, it’s not all that different. Everyone’s a product in some way, right? It’s just that that’s not all we are.”

  She seemed surprised. And she didn’t say anything. I felt embarrassed about making such a weird speech, so I never asked what she thought.

  By then we were at this yard that was so totally covered with leaves you couldn’t see the front walk, like whoever owned the house didn’t even have a rake. I’m not used to lawns being a mess like that, everything at HQ is manicured by a huge staff, so I made a face at it, and I guess Jenny saw it, because, surprise, surprise, it was her house.

&nbs
p; Perfect. Things were going just great.

  “Dad likes to mulch them with the mower, but he gets so wrapped up in his work this time of year he forgets to mow,” she said.

  I didn’t really care, it just surprised me. As for her dad, I didn’t know if he worked so hard because they needed money, or because he loved what he did or because he was one of those type A workaholics, like Nancy.

  So I asked: “What’s your dad do?”

  Innocent question, yes? Fit right in with the flow of the conversation, didn’t it? Only, Jenny didn’t answer. She started walking really quickly up the hidden walk.

  “He’s working at home today,” she said. She said it the same way I’d said “lunch” to Nate earlier. As I walked up behind her, she stopped in her tracks and put her hand on my chest to stop me. It was very effective.

  “Jaiden, don’t mention anything about NECorp to my dad, okay?”

  “Sure! I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  Then she opened the door.

  The house itself wasn’t very different from NECorp’s corporate rental place. It pretty much had the same center-hall floor plan. What was different was the decor. I mean I expected it to look less like a hotel, which it did, but I didn’t expect it to have such a … well, you know how some houses have a color scheme, and if you’re really anal, everything, even the furniture and the napkins, match? This place didn’t have a color scheme so much as a theme, and if I had to give it a name, it would be anticorporate.

  It wasn’t really subtle either, like as soon as you walked in you were facing a poster on the wall that read, Corporation = Death.

  No, really. It gets better. Jenny pulled off her coat real quick and pulled me deeper inside. The main hall and the living room were likewise plastered with slogans:

  People, Not Profits

  Soulless Corporation Is Redundant

  Down with the Group Mind

  Enjoy Your Fascist Regime (I kinda liked that one)

  Corporations: You Can’t Live with Them and You Can Live Without Them