Chapter 2
Anna was back at computer C1-07 two
days later. She had peered into her Excite inbox several times since that
class period in which she wrote her first penpal letter to Katherine. She
saw that she had a message there, but she resisted the temptation to open
it. If she had opened it, read it, and replied to it, what would she do in
class? Now she was in class, and it was time to read her first message from
her Floridian penpal.
Anna read the first with a frown on her face. Katherine—Kate—sounded
so formal with the way she wrote. It was as if she didn’t want to
write, but she had to. That made sense, considering that both girls had been
forced into this by their classes, but at least Anna was stepping into it
with a positive attitude. She liked the idea of having a penpal. What if
Katherine—Kate! She had to get used to calling her Kate!—did not? That would
make for an awful friendship.
And what was this thing about her family? Her parents?
Did they not love her, like Anna’s did? Anna didn’t understand how a family
could be like that. She made note to ask in her return letter, hoping that
it wouldn’t cause trouble.
Anna read through the second paragraph and did not like
what she saw. G-d, Anna thought, she sounds stuck up! She had
to laugh at the joke in the third paragraph, though. She read through the
rest of the letter with no clear thoughts, until she got to the postscript.
The postscript. Anna read that twice. Kate was
toying with her, that was for certain. She didn’t trust Anna, that Anna could
tell. She would figure out what that site’s url address was. Kate wouldn’t
show her up. Later, a voice in her head told Anna. Write
your letter now, and pretend everything is okay!
Dear Kate,
I’m glad to have heard from you so soon! I saw that
you had sent me a return message that same day, but I didn’t open it for
fear that I wouldn’t have anything to do in class. Well, now I’m in class,
and I’ve read it.
Oh, well, if sports are your thing, fine by me! I don’t
particularly enjoy them, but if you do… what’s soccer like, anyway? I’ve
never actually paid that much attention to it. It’s not popular here. Is
it popular in Florida? Who cares about what’s popular, anyway? I sure don’t.
Only stupid people do. You know, the popular crowd. The preps. I hate those
people. I may sound like them at times, but I sure as anything am not one
of them. You didn’t think I was, did you?
Yeah, you should definitely try reading Tamora Pierce’s books.
There’s pretty clear and straight forward, as far as fantasy goes. I know
some people who don’t read fantasy, but absolutely love Tamora Pierce’s books.
You’ll love them; trust me. What books do you read? What authors do you recommend?
Oh, to find another reading friend! You wouldn’t believe what a pain it is
trying to get people here to read! Shove a book in their faces and they think
it’s a snake. Stupid people. I suppose I’m a bit too hyper for most of the
other avid readers. I have my friends, though. Or I’m making them. There’s
this one girl in my English class, Jenny Springer, who seems pretty nice.
She’s quiet as a mouse, that girl, but nice. There’s one girl in my homeroom
who is interesting, too. She’s hyper, but in the way of body rather than
in the way of words. I think her name is Emily something-or-other. There
are others, too, and of course, there are the others in the groups that these
girls are in. It should be nice, making new friends. Who are your friends?
What are they like?
Anna gulped. Here came the hard part. She hoped that springing
the family questioning on Kate wouldn’t make her angry. They had gotten off
to a rough start as it was, they didn’t need more trouble. Still, Anna had
to ask. She had to take a chance. She took a deep breath, hoped none of her
classmates noticed the worried look on her face, and continued writing.
What’s your family like? I left that out in my last
letter, did you notice? Mine’s pretty nice. The usual. Mother, father, me.
I suppose I like being an only child, but sometimes I get lonely. Wouldn’t
you get lonely being an only child? Or are you an only child? In that case,
you would know, and it would be changed from ‘wouln’t’ to ‘do.’ See, I know
my grammar about as well as the next girl. Well, actually, better. Most of
my classmates are idiots when it comes to grammar. Especially the one sitting
beside me, Alex Itkin. I think he does it on purpose, though. He’s the class
clown, but he doesn’t strike me as dumb. Actually, apart from him (boy, does
it kill me to say that) and a few others, I think my whole class is made
up of idiots. Not that that’s a nice thing to say, but…
As for your website—yes, I am up to the challenge. I will
find out the address of your website, and before the next letter, too. I
am not all silliness as you see here. I am smarter than I appear, Kate Smith.
Your penpal,
Anna Hamilton
Anna sat there and stared at the screen for a minute before
sending her e-mail. Her last paragraph was something different. Usually she
left that attitude, that part of her that said, “I know more than you think,
I’m not stupid, so don’t you dare mess with me,” for when she was dealing
with boys or in her head where it could do no harm. She was letting it show
here, and Kate would see it. How she would react was Kate’s problem, though.
Maybe she’d even like it—Kate seemed to have a spark of it, too. Anna hit
the send button, and off her letter went through cyberspace.
Anna sat in front of her computer that night at home.
It was time to figure out the url address of Kate’s website. She was determined
not to let Kate show her up, though she couldn’t figure out what the finding
of the website was supposed to cause. There was no skill involved in finding
out the url address, just guesswork.
Anna opened her Netscape browser and typed in the address
for Geocities. She looked at for a moment, and then went to the Advanced
Search part of the Member Pages Directory. She started out her search by
typing in the keywords “Kate Smith.” She had no luck. Her search brought
back seven thousand one hundred and ninety-three websites. The name of Kate
Smith was too common.
Still going by the name, Anna tried to fill in the
missing part of the website. In her search she saw that all Geocities sites
had www.geocities.com/ whatever the username was. Anna tried www.geocities.com/katesmith
along with using katherinesmith, ksmith, and kates. Of the four only katherinesmith
existed, and it hadn’t been built yet so there was no possible way it could
have been Kate’s. Besides, she said that she didn’t like the name Katherine.
Why would she use it for her website?
Anna wished that she knew more about websites. She had
wanted one for a long time, but she didn’t know the HTML language in order
to actually make a website. She had stayed away from the whole website hype,
so she didn’t know much about how people named them. She wished she had paid
attention to her website-building friends. She could have used that knowledge
right at that present moment.
She sat back for a moment. Creating a name for a website would
be just like creating a name for an e-mail account or an instant messenger
account, wouldn’t it be? In that case, she did know how things were named.
Different people had different styles, though. Anna could already see that
Kate didn’t use her name, so what did she use?
Her e-mail screenname, Anna thought all of a sudden. Yes,
she knew people who did that! Her friends from before she moved, Rachel and
Elizabeth, both used their e-mail screennames for everything: e-mail, instant
messenger, and websites. Hurriedly, Anna tried www.geocities.com/toughkat36.
It worked!
Anna looked at her penpal’s website carefully. Websites
went a long way towards showing the personality of a person, and Anna wanted
to know everything about her new penpal. Kate’s website definitely belonged
to Kate. It was orderly, and not very cheerful. A solid black hue served
as a background for blue lettering in the Batang font. Links to pages were
placed orderly.
The website showed little description of Kate. I am
a Floridian with an attitude and you do not want to mess with me is all
it said before showing a line of links. The links lead to things that Kate
had written. She said she was a writer, Anna thought.
Now I can see what she’s written.
The links were arranged in a table, its boarders invisible.
There were three columns and numerous rows in the table. The columns were
labeled. The left column was labeled Fiction. The middle column’s label declared
it to be Poetry. The right column was reserved for Miscellaneous pieces.
Anna read through the first fiction piece. It was
a short story, but not so short that it didn’t take Anna long to read it.
It took her a half an hour, at best. She was reading it carefully, hoping
to catch glimpses of Kate’s personality in it. The story was about a girl
who ran away from home and spent the time until she was of legal age in nature.
Kate obviously had an eye for the things around her. If the story indicated
correctly, Kate loved nature. That was something the two girls had in common.
Rather than take the time to read more of the fiction,
Anna jumped to the second column, the one that held Kate’s poetry. She said
that she wasn’t very good at poetry, but for someone who couldn’t write poetry,
she sure had a lot of it under her belt. Anna clicked on a poem titled Bubbles.
Bubbles
Little shimmering rainbowy balls
Reflecting what they see.
Holding students in awe
At their delicate appearances.
Floating down to death
On the tile floor.
If that wasn’t poetry to Anna’s eyes, she was one of Elizabeth’s
pink and purple poka dotted penguins! Kate could write poetry! Anna couldn’t
see why the girl doubted her skill… that poem was far from crappy as far
as Anna could tell, though she wasn’t a critic. About as good as Anna’s,
or even better, if she did say so herself. Kate had a way with words. Why
wouldn’t she admit to her skill? Anna would have to bring it up in her next
letter.
Anna looked at the poem again. It was pretty. Anna could
definitely see the bubbles when she read the poem. She saw the rainbows.
She saw the reflections in the bubbles as images were captured on their surfaces.
She saw the delicacy of the bubbles. She even saw the death on the floor.
That Kate saw death in something as beautiful as a bubble was not nice. If
she saw death in a bubble, what else did she see death in? How easily did
something remind Kate of death, and why? Anna sighed. She had yet another
question for her next letter to her new penpal. She had to fight off the
urge to send a letter to Kate right that instant. If she did, how could she
be guaranteed that she’d have something to do during class time? She couldn’t,
and she couldn’t stand to sit idle. No, she’d wait for her next English class.
She’d have to.
Anna then turned to the last column, the Miscellaneous
column. This seemed to hold anything that wasn’t fictional or poetry—school
papers, mainly, as far as Anna could tell. Essays. Book reports. That kind
of thing. Anna opened the first one, an essay about school uniforms. It was
a persuasive essay, as she had guessed it would be. Kate argued not against
school uniforms as most—including Anna—would, but for them. She handled herself
gracefully in her writing. The sentences were not choppy. She backed up all
her ideas with facts, either out of actual conducted surveys or her personal
experience. Anna had to admit that that girl proved her point. She came just
short of convincing Anna to turn around and vote for school uniforms at the
next school board meeting. Hmmm, Anna thought. I’ll have to do
an essay with an argument against her. This’ll be fun.
The essay once again proved Kate’s personality, in a way.
She was all for organization and neatness, that girl. She was straightforward
in debate. Lawyer material, Anna thought.
Anna sat back feeling proud of herself. She would show
Anna in her next letter that she wasn’t a ditz, and maybe she’d learn a bit
about her new friend. She didn’t like all this sneaking and thinking. It
wasn’t her style. She liked to have fun, and use her brain to have fun. Yes,
competitions were fun, but not this kind of competition. She didn’t want
to make an enemy of her new penpal before they even got to know each other.
She was glad that the dare was over. She could go back to being her usual,
happy, hyper, rambling self in her letters, and leave the serious thinking
in her head!
§
Kate looked at the computer screen where the e-mail message
that she had just received from Anna was displayed. Anna’s energy tired Kate
just from reading it. Didn’t it exhaust her? It would exhaust Kate. Maybe
her hyperness was Anna’s way of getting rid of all the pressure built up
in her life. Maybe it was her physical activity, like soccer was Kate’s.
It could sure burn a lot of calories, as Kate’s mother would say. She related
everything not academic to calories. If any woman was obsessed with weight,
it was Mrs. Smith.
Anna had accepted her website challenge. Good. Kate would
see just how well Anna used logic. Maybe, if she figured it out, she wasn’t
as pea brained as she seemed in her letters. Maybe there was actually some
brain behind that hyper, cheerful, rambling appearance that she gave off.
Kate didn’t like how Anna was asking questions about
Kate’s life. Her second letter, and already Anna was asking for personal
information from Kate. Kate frowned. Anna was digging in too deeply. Kate
doubted she knew that a simple question like “What is your family like?”
would be prying, but it was. Kate clicked to reply to the message, and fought
to control herself. Her message would not be completely friendly, but she
wouldn’t let herself snap at Anna, either.
Greetings, Anna.
You’re not going to find out about my family. That
is personal, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would not pry into
it. My family life is not like yours, and it is not any of your business.
My friends are nonexistent. Yes, miss popular, friendly,
social girl, I am without friends. Don’t pity me, either. I’m fine without
friends. I don’t need them. I have my writing and I have my books. I have
soccer, and I have academics. That is enough for me. I live like this. You
may not be able to, but I have the strength necessary to do it.
Kate shook her head. So much for not being mean. She didn’t
feel like thinking up a nicer way to put those things, though. Her friend
and family details were not things she could share with a person miles away
whom she had just met, and if Anna couldn’t handle that, too bad for her.
Kate had little sympathy for Anna if she was going to butt into her personal
business, especially so soon. She may someday feel comfortable with telling
Anna those things, but it wouldn’t be for a while. Kate doubted that it would
come at all. She sighed. Life was just a big sigh when it came to Anna and
her letters. She started typing again, moving on to easier to deal with subjects.
As for authors… I honestly can’t recommend any. I don’t
stick to one or two authors; I read around. I’ll pick up anything that sounds
interesting, and finish it whether I like it or not. Some books I suggest
are Dangerous Minds by LouAnne Johnson (I’m rereading that right now)
and Running Out of Time by Margaret Peterson Haddix. I’ve read both
multiple times, and they’re both worth a read.
It’s not so hard to get others to read, you just need to find
the right approach. Trust me, I help out at the library. All you have to
do is find out what sort of things they’re interested in, make a judge of
their personality, and send them into the section that has things they might
be interested in. Some come out empty handed, yes, but some emerge with a
pile of books they want to read, and a promise to come visit the library
weekly. It’s not so hard, once you get the hang of it.
No, soccer is not popular. That’s part of what makes it
so playable. Who wants to do something that’s popular? Popularity ruins a
thing. If soccer were popular, I don’t think I would have tried out for it
in the first place. It’s a good thing it isn’t popular. I need soccer, or
I’d go crazy.
It’s an easy sport, really. I don’t know how much you
know, so I’ll start at the beginning. The aim of the game is to score as
many goals as possible, and to keep the other team from scoring goals in
your goal. There are ideally twelve players on a team, but it can be played
with fewer—I think here a team has to have at least nine players on the field.
In basic soccer (up until you get around high school and the pros), there
are four positions: goalie, defense, midfield, and offense. The goalie, as
in any sport, keeps the ball out of the goal. The goalie’s the only player
who can use his or her hands. The defensive players defend the goal, but
must stay out of the goal box. The midfielders play the center of the field—they
help the defense when the other team has the ball and help the offense when
their team has control of the ball. The offensive players try to score goals.
Sounds simple, huh? It is. You just can’t use your hands. Feet are fine.
Head is fine. Stomach is fine. No hands allowed in soccer.
Kate looked at the clock. She had covered all the topics
that she needed to cover, and she still had ten minutes left of class. She
had left her book in her locker, thinking that she wouldn’t need it. She
sighed. She didn’t want to be left with nothing to do, and she didn’t dare
to take out her writing. She didn’t want her teacher to see it and start
pressuring her about wanting to see it, as her last teacher did. She sat
back thought for a moment. What more could she say to Anna? Kate got an idea,
and then started typing again.
Are you always as energetic as you seem in your letters,
Anna? You seem like it. You’ve been guessing about me all this time. Now
let me guess about you. I’m going to do it in the form of a poem—watch out,
it’s not going to be very good.
Anna
Anna is the name of a girl whom I have met through school.
A girl far away, in the state of Virginia.
A girl who may just become a friend,
The first friend of mine in years.
I now get to make some estimations about what this girl like
Based on the knowledge of just two letters.
Full of energy is she.
Full of spirit is she.
Full of emotion is she.
Full of thoughts is she.
Full of ideas is she.
Full of curiosity is she.
Full of questions is she.
Full of random comments is she.
Full of words, long and short is she.
Full of love, friendship, and hope is she.
Can Anna ever be empty?
I doubt it.
Okay, so it’s a really horrible poem. I tried, okay? These
are the things I have noticed from your letters. Am I an okay judge, or am
I totally off base?
- Kate Smith