Wired by Caytlyn Brooke

Author:Caytlyn Brooke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: teens, young adult, new adult, technology, science fiction, addiction, social media, social media addiction
Publisher: BHC Press
Published: 2018-03-21T16:00:00+00:00

Mornin’, Miss Maggie. You sure lookin’ like some kind of storm today,” Acey greets me, pulling the heavy door open wide.

I rush past him, calling “Thanks!” over my shoulder. I am so, so late. Maybe I’ll luck out and they’ll still be catching up on their weekends. The tapping of my heels fills the empty lobby with a hollow ringing as I rush to the elevator. I jab the dull four button over and over, as if it can register my haste. “Come on, you stupid thing!”

A moment later the gold doors peel apart and I leap inside, hitting the close button before they have finished opening. Two minutes later, I reach the fourth floor and explode from the little square box, colliding with some curly-haired intern as I round the corner.

I don’t bother to apologize, frantically feeling inside my messenger bag for the papers I need. I’m going to be in so much trouble.

I look inside the conference room up ahead and see Robins gesturing to a colorful poster board, well into the meeting.

I pull open the door of the office and slide into the only open chair, sending a quick apologetic smile up at Ms. Robins. I am ignored. I glance to my left and see Jeremy out of the corner of my eye. I wiggle my fingers in his direction and he nods, his eyes remaining fixed on Robins.

“So are we all agreed then?” Robins asks, eyeing the small collective group over her white frames. She sounds as though she is daring someone to speak up.

At the front of the room four metal easels have been arranged. One of them is empty, but the others showcase final submissions for the cover design. I wonder where the fourth one is? I study the second one, where a dark silhouette stares into a gathering storm, his posture haunted somehow. It gives me a strange feeling, both nervous and excited. My design has survived the first cut. I stifle the little yelp of victory building in my chest. Now I just need to beat the remaining two.

“Moving on,” Robins states, grabbing the top of the third poster with her manicured nails. She rips it off the silver stand with force and the rejected poster tumbles to the floor, joining the first discarded design.

Ms. Robins trains her attention on the fourth design. It is a worn, old teddy bear, with a missing left eye and rumpled fur lying in a puddle of blood. The image churns my stomach, but it’s eye-catching, something that Robins demands for her covers. “Now this one is interesting,” she says, pausing to examine the art closer. “Which one of you came up with this?”

“I did.”

I turn to see Jeremy raising his hand.

“I wanted it to be frightening and whimsical at the same time, targeting the children in the story rather than the father,” he explains, gesturing to my poster.

I grit my teeth, preparing for the chance to defend mine.

“Not bad, Jeremy,” Ms. Robins says with obvious sincerity.

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