Access Denied (and other eighth grade error messages) (13 page)

SO THIS WAS WHAT IT was like to have someone like you back. I loved knowing Blake was thinking about me and I could also see
why Jilly was obsessed with texting. I grabbed her phone whenever I saw her because Blake had started texting me on it. Just
little stuff like
wassup?
and
test in lit kicked my butt
because of course he couldn’t say other stuff with Jilly able to read it. He saved that for IM and e-mail.

Can’t wait 2 c u again
he said in his last e-mail.
Let’s do something this weekend. How about DQ? We can ride our bikes.

I was pretty sure I was walking on air, even though my Chucks touched the floor.

When he called after school on Monday to ask about getting together on Saturday, I admitted my parents wouldn’t let me
date
date until I was older.

“No worries,” he said. “Jon and Jilly are in.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling a little disappointed. Even if I couldn’t, didn’t he want to be with me alone? “Great.”

“We’ll come to your house before we go so I can charm your mom again.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure.”

Blake Thornton was beyond cool.

After we hung up, the phone rang immediately. Caller ID told me it was Mark.

“How about some hoops this weekend?”

“Sure,” I said, then guilt pricked at me. Should I play basketball with Mark now that I was going out with Blake?
Were
we going out? No one had used the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” but we had kissed so that must mean something, right?
I had no idea since this was the first time someone I liked liked me back. Maybe I should talk to Blake about it. But was
it too soon to talk about that kind of stuff? We’d only been together twice, and one of those was at Jilly’s when we met.
Would he think I was pushing too hard with the relationship? Or would he be mad if I said nothing and he found out later I
was with Mark. Maybe I should—

“Earth to E.” Mark’s voice jarred me back. “Come in, E.”

“Sorry,” I murmured. “I’m a little distracted.”

“I noticed,” Mark said. “Everything okay?”

No, it’s not,
I wanted to say.
I met this guy and he’s really cute and we made out two times (but who’s counting?) and I really like him and he likes me
and it’s amazing to have someone I like like me back and even though I don’t like you that way anymore and you have a girlfriend,
it still feels weird to tell you.

“Just—some stuff,” I said finally.

“Stuff,” Mark said. “Anything to do with that guy you went bowling with on Friday?”

“What?” How did he find out? And why hadn’t he said something sooner?

“Jilly mentioned it at school today,” Mark said, as if reading my mind. “I thought you went shopping for software with your
mom.”

“Well, I was going to and then this came up and—” I stopped. I was digging a hole. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess I just felt
weird talking about it.”

“Why? I talk to you about Kara.”

“I know,” I said, “but I don’t really know what it is yet.”

“You like this guy?” Mark asked. “What’s his name—Blaze? Bronze?”

“Blake,” I said, laughing. I couldn’t tell if Mark was goofing up his name on purpose or not but it was nice to have it out
there. “I don’t know. I just met him.”

“Are you going out with him again?”

“What’s with the twenty questions?”

Mark laughed. “Just giving back some of what you do to me. ‘How’s Kara? Did you guys get together over the weekend? What color
was her lip gloss?’ ”

I snorted. “I never asked you about her lip gloss,” I said. “I’m surprised you even know what that is.”

“It’s that stuff you put on your eyelids, right?”

“You’re hilarious, Sacks. Why don’t you put some lip gloss on your big toe.”

“I just might, Miss I-Have-a-Boyfriend.”

“I don’t,” I said quickly. “At least, not yet.”

“Kara’s calling on the other line,” Mark said. “I can let it go to voice mail.”

“No, go ahead and talk to her. I need to get off anyway.”

After I hung up, I headed downstairs to find my mom. I hated the way my stomach clenched every time I needed to ask her something
now. It never used to be like this. But then again,
she
never used to be like this—worried, a little suspicious. I didn’t know what her problem was but I wished she’d get over it
so I could have some fun.

“You’re riding your bikes?” She said it as if I’d told her we were going to skydive to get to DQ—without parachutes.

“Yeah,” I said. “You know, those things with two wheels I’ve been riding since I was six?”

She gave me her don’t-get-smart-with-me look.

I sighed. “They’ll come here first so we can all ride together. Blake wants to say hello.”

Finally, a smile. “Well, that’s nice. I think it’s fine but no stopping along the way. Straight there and straight back. All
right?”

What did she think we were going to do, head to California? “All right.”

JILLY WOULDN’T HAVE BELIEVED IT, but I was more excited about starting I-Club than I was about the DQ double-date on Saturday.
As I stepped into the familiar computer lab that Thursday after school, I couldn’t help grinning. The clusters of computers,
the glowing monitors, the trackballs and mice neatly positioned beside each keyboard—it all gave me a jolt of excitement.
Even though we had our computers and technology elective in here twice a week, the room looked different somehow. Soon we’d
be creating web pages, links, and animated stuff, and all of it would go out on the Internet for everyone to see. I couldn’t
wait.

“Okay, people, settle down.” Ms. Moreno stood in front of her desk, a stack of papers clutched in her hand. Mr. Arnett, who
helped with I-Club, was flipping through software discs. I glanced around the room. Most of the old faces were back, including
Serena. Reede sat near the back, Tyler on one side of her, Steve on the other. She raised her chin in greeting and I nodded.

Mark appeared in the doorway, talking to someone over his shoulder. A hand clutched his and I pictured Kara just outside the
door. He said something to her and smiled. The hand released and he waved good-bye before coming inside, grinning at me as
he dropped into a seat at one of the computer clusters.

There were about five or six seventh graders huddled in the corner beneath the Rules for Safe Surfing poster. Behind them
was the familiar row of shelves holding books, manuals, and discs, all neatly stacked because I’d organized them myself last
year.

“Find a seat, everyone,” Ms. Moreno said. She rapped on the desktop and we quieted down. “We need to get our groups and get
to work. We have a lot to do if we want to have a fully functioning website on the Internet by February or March.”

“What about the Intranet?” someone asked. “Will that go away?”

“We’ll have both,” she said. “And we’ll need to maintain both. Some of what we have for the Intranet can be used on our Internet
website, which will help.” Her eyes fell to the back of the room. I glanced over my shoulder. The seventh graders were still
in a group, eying the empty seats, none of which were together. “You’ll have to split up,” Ms. Moreno said to them. “
Most
of the eighth graders don’t bite, though I can’t vouch for all of them.”

The class chuckled and the seventh graders made their way to available seats.

“Okay, these are the group leaders.” Ms. Moreno glanced down at her paper. “Erin Swift, Rosie Velarde, Mark Sacks, Jonathan
Parker, and Zach Lucas. Could each of you make sure you’re at a separate computer cluster and then—”

“Ms. Moreno.” Steve waved his arm high in the air.

“—when I read off the groups, please—”

“Ms. Moreno!”

Ms. Moreno sighed. “What is it, Steven?” She was the only one who called him Steven. I thought it was because she was trying
to make him sound older and more mature so he would act older and more mature. So far, it wasn’t working.

“You forgot to call my name to be a group leader.”

All the eighth graders broke out laughing.

“What?” Steve looked around at us, raising his hands in a question.

“Leader of what?” Rosie said. “Ways to get in trouble?”

We all laughed.

“Thank you, Steven,” Ms. Moreno said, “but I’ve already chosen the leaders.”

Steve pretended to pout while she had one of the seventh graders hand out the papers.

“I’ve divided up the categories for each group,” she said. “Group leaders, when I call your name, raise your hand so people
know who you are. Erin Swift, home page and look and feel of the site, and some miscellaneous pages. Erin’s group will be
Reede Harper, Scott Jensen, Joe Monahan, and Serena Worthington. Next leader is Mark Sacks, faculty and staff pages plus—”

I stopped listening. I had Reede “Silicon Valley Hot Makeover” Harper AND Serena in my group? I was feeling more comfortable
around Reede, but what if she knew way more than I did and thought I was a total idiot? She grew up with a techno guru. She
probably had a memory card embedded in her brain and wireless capabilities through her earlobe. And Serena? Well, even though
things seemed okay between us, I still wasn’t sure about her.

I scowled before turning back to my circle of computers where Reede, Scott, Joe, and Serena were gathering.

“So, Team Leader.” Serena plopped down next to Reede, leaning her face around the monitor. “What will it be this year? Baring
your butt instead of your soul?”

Scott shifted in his seat, staring down at his keyboard. He was an eighth grader and knew what Serena was talking about. Joe
was a seventh grader so he just looked clueless. Reede smirked at me and I raised my eyebrows in response.

“Funny, Serena,” I said, but she was looking at Reede and suddenly I got it. She wanted Reede to like her. She was using the
YOHE to get in good with Reede. I had an odd wave of pity for her. “I don’t think anyone wants to see my bare butt,” I said,
and everyone laughed. “And I’ll try to keep my soul to myself this year.”

“Except when you want to give it to a high school guy,” Reede said, jiggling her shoulders in an ooh-la-la gesture.

Serena whipped her head in my direction. “What high school guy?”

“It’s nothing,” I mumbled, wondering how Reede had found out about Blake.

“That’s not what I heard,” Reede said.

Serena was about to say something else when Ms. Moreno called us to attention.

“Let’s go over the handouts first,” she said, holding up a copy of the stapled papers we all had in front of us. We spent
the rest of the meeting discussing our game plan and making lists of the things we needed to do to get the website up and
running.

After the meeting, Mark, Tyler, and Rosie hung back while I got my stuff together.

“Some group you’ve got, Swift,” Mark said.

“Tell me about it.” I said. “I need to talk to Ms. Moreno.”

“Don’t worry,” Tyler said, “You’re Erin Swift, Webmaster of the Universe.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is it Opposite Day?”

He smiled. “It’s actually opposite of opposite day,” Tyler said, pointing at me. “You rule, Erin P. Swift.” He grinned wide.

Huh. Where did that cute dimple in his right cheek come from? How come I never noticed it when I had a crush on him at computer
camp?

I smiled and pointed back at him. “Thanks, Ty. I’ll catch you guys later.”

The room emptied, leaving Ms. Moreno and I alone. “Before you say anything, may I say something first?” she asked. Obviously
she knew why I’d stayed after everyone else was gone.

“I guess,” I said.

“I put Serena in your group because I think she—well, I think you could be a positive influence on her.”

I sighed. I just wanted to design the coolest school website ever. I didn’t want to have to be a positive influence on anyone.
It would be hard enough trying to be cool and competent in front of Reede.

And why do adults always do that anyway? Just when you’re brave enough to say what you really feel, they force you to do what
they want by giving you a compliment. It was some kind of twisted adult psychology and it was really annoying.

“And I put Reede in your group because she asked me to.”

“What?”

Ms. Moreno smiled. “I think her exact words were, ‘Erin Swift seems to be the computer and web expert around here. Can you
put me in her group?’ ”

“She called me an expert?” I hated how eager my voice sounded, as if Reede’s opinion was this big important thing. And yet,
I had to admit it was.

“She did,” Ms Moreno said. “I know you have a lot of ideas, too, but I think she’ll bring a lot to the website.”

I had more than a lot of ideas. I had an entire flowchart of the website, plus several mock-ups for the “look and feel,” since
Ms. Moreno hinted last year that I might be in charge of it. But I
did
feel a little better knowing Reede had told Ms. Moreno she wanted to work with me.

“I’m sure she will,” I said. I hoped she’d really add something and not just want to use all of her ideas and tell me what
to do.

MY PARENTS THOUGHT IT WAS wonderful that Ms. Moreno had “such confidence” in me to be a positive influence on Serena. I groaned
and told them it was all just a big conspiracy by the adults to praise me into doing what they wanted. They gave each other
the she’s-thirteen-and-we-have-to-expect-this look and my dad said they knew I’d do the right thing.

Argh. Sometimes I’d like to do the wrong thing, just to shake people up.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Jilly said after I explained everything on the phone that night. “What does Ms. Moreno think?
That you and Serena will suddenly be best friends?”

“I know.” Finally someone who got it. I dropped down on my bed. “I can’t believe I’m supposed to worry about Serena. I just
want to make a good website.”

“You’ll be great,” Jilly said. “Do you know what it’s going to look like yet?”