“Hey babe.” Deena kissed my cheek, wrapping a spindly arm around me in a quick hug. Everything about Deena was skinny. Her limbs were knotted together at the joints, jutting knees and elbows. I wasn’t sure how the ocean breeze didn’t carry her away. “This is it. Welcome to the big time.”
She gestured to an iridescent beach, where kids lounged on cushy pillows at long driftwood tables decorated with sea glass, white dahlias, and flickering votive candles like they were at some glamorous seaside resort instead of hanging at school. The salty air even smelled like coconut. The augmented reality probably sparkled with rainbows, but I hated wearing AMPs—contacts that exposed virtual overlays and made it possible to control the Networks with your eyes—because the excess imagery gave me a headache, so I’d never know.
“This place is so fancy,” I said, hugging her back.
“It’s all for the Networks. It will look totally different next week. Gotta keep the setting interesting for everyone’s feed,” she said. “Do you have Self-Awareness first?”
Flipping my wrist over, I swiped the screen sticker I wore instead of AMPs and studied my schedule. “Yep.”
“Me, too. Good. I’ll introduce you to Kylie and Lily,” she said as we started walking toward class. “You’re lucky. I’ve got them thinking they’re better off having you as an ally. I wish someone had done that for me.”
My stomach dropped. Having never been in a social situation with kids my own age, I was already in knots and didn’t need added pressure. I’d naively thought I would get to make my own first impression. “Why? They’ve never met me—how could they have already made up their minds about me?”
“You’re new. You’re pretty. And you had the highest debut price ever.” Eyelashes fluttering, she rolled her eyes. “They don’t have to know you to hate you.”
I frowned, dread seeping through me.
“Relax. You’re still going to be an actress, right?”
“The DNA scans all say so.” I shrugged. My parents were actors, so it made sense to follow in their footsteps. I’d never considered anything else.
“That’s good. None of us are actresses, so you won’t be competition.” Grabbing my hand, she pulled me to a stop. “It’s going to be okay. Just follow the rules and you’ll be fine.” She adjusted the strap on my romper so it tucked away the skin bulging near my armpit, wrinkling her nose like the sight of the tiny lump disgusted her.
“Rule number one: always hide your armpit flab?” I smiled, hoping for a glimpse of my old friend, the one I used to giggle over the Networks with at sleepovers, but her eyes remained flat.
“Be serious, Ella.” She flicked her hair over her bony shoulder. “Are you live right now?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I haven’t gone ‘live’ yet. I’m nervous about being ‘on’ all the time, and I’m afraid there’s going to be a major sell-off if my investors see how boring my life really is.” I double-checked the Life Stream icon on my wrist. Sure enough, it was set to private, promising the hundreds of cameras positioned around Intersection weren’t recording me straight to the Networks. “But my parents are on my case. I’ll be the star of my own Network movie soon enough.”