“He’s like, such a douche. I
mean, who breaks up with his girlfriend because she doesn’t want to keep
cheerleading?” I complained to my friend Anna over a lunch of grapes and
goldfish, the best snack yet known to this world.
“Oh I know,” Anna replied.
“Honestly I’m surprised Lexi quit, being your basic Barbie doll, but like it’s
her prerogative. Hasn’t she been injured all year anyway? It’s not like it’ll
be any different.”
“Exactly! But of course it’s
this big deal, like just being able to say ‘I’m dating a cheerleader’ is all he
wants out of a relationship. Idiot.”
“Where did you hear all this
anyway?” Anna asked.
“Um, well I overheard Ellie in
first period talking about it…” I mumbled, looking forcefully out the window at
the cold concrete courtyard.
“Ellie told you? Linds, it’s
probably not true then…” Anna chastised me, just like I knew she would. Ellie
isn’t really the most reliable source, but, this sounded just like something
Aaron would do—total jock, soccer player, heartbreaker.
“I don’t know, it could be! He
sounds like the kinda guy who would do that!”
“Linds you are just being
unfair. Didn’t you spend most of freshman year obsessed with him?” She asked
me. It bugged me that she was becoming so judgmental, hadn’t she been agreeing
with me moments before?
“Yeah, I guess, but he was
different! Less controlled by his muscles, more or less a person with a brain,”
I retorted. I had been obsessed.
Maybe I was being a little petty. But I didn’t like him anymore, not really. He
had dated a string of cheerleader popular girls with fake skin and fake hair
and identical personalities. I couldn’t fit the bill.
“Well, like in middle school—“ I
started.
“I’ve heard he is really nice. He even visited
Mr. Carr in the hospital when he was sick.”
“Well all points lead to douche
from what I’ve heard lately,” I said, popping a grape into my mouth with
finality.
I was even more convinced that
my assumptions were true later that day. I was checking Facebook for the hundredth time
that day when I noticed that Aaron had posted a status. “Holding on is being brave, but sometimes you
have to let go and be strong because its the only choice you've been given.”
Whatever. He was as plastic as his bottles of Gatorade. Why post this on Facebook anyway? People were
only going to talk and talk about it even more and Lexi would be upset and her friends would
write nasty things on Aaron’s wall and it would just snowball into this big
nasty thing. Of course I shouldn’t
care, because it has nothing to do to me, but there was something unsettling
about all that hate being out there for everyone to read. Like some sick art
exhibit where we all just have to stare and stare at this horrendous painting
depicting the truth about teenage behavior.
I was the kind of person who liked to think people were better than they
actually were; I wanted to give people some benefit of the doubt in the hope
that they would return the favor. Instead I was usually ignored and people like
Aaron ended up on top, posting “meaningful” statuses to incite controversy.
My thoughts were
interrupted by a text from Anna.
Hey girl you up for a round for
Failure?
Failure was a game that we had made up one snowday a year ago when we
were breathing boredom. I grabbed my
laptop and sat with it downstairs in some hope that something entertaining
would pop on the screen and our problem would be solved. No such luck. So we
sat there refreshing Tumblr when I noticed a screencap from some site called
Omegle. Now I’m usually not the kind of
person who jumps at the chance to converse with strangers online, and I’m just
as aware of the potential creepers that lurk around the web—but it didn’t seem
to give much more information about your potential weirdo besides the moniker
“Stranger.” And we were bored.
The first few times on Omegle we had just screwed around, speaking in ALL
CAPS ALL OF THE TIME. Somehow everything sounded funnier to us when in large,
hard-to-discern letters. I liked how it evened the playing field, and I could
happen to talk to anyone, including people that I wouldn’t talk to in real
life. It was fun. I could be anyone, the stranger could be anyone, and we could
make up an entire life. Anyway, Failure developed when Anna just randomly typed
“Breakfast at Tiffany’s” as the start of a conversation. The stranger wrote
back “wuts that” and Anna just replied with “You have failed.” It was a joke
really, and we began to make a contest of it from then on. We would play for
say fifteen minutes, and whoever had the most disappointing response won. I
texted back :
I’m game. Harry Potter at
seven?
You’re on.
I went to Omegle and waited for 6:59 to change. At seven, I clicked the
button for text conversations (I didn’t have a webcam and felt generally weird
about that anyway) and typed Harry Potter.
You: Harry Potter.
Stranger is typing…
Stranger: gay.
I ended the conversation and took a screenshot. Disappointing for sure.
You: Harry Potter.
Stranger is typing…
Stranger: Ur mom.
Not very creative.
You: Harry Potter.
Stranger is typing…
Your conversational partner has
disconnected.
You: Harry Potter.
Stranger is typing…
Stranger: Yes.
You: Indeed.
Stranger: Which one is your favorite?
You: Azkaban, I guess. You?
Stranger: Me too!
You: Well, I’m glad there is someone out there like me. I was beginning
to fear.
Stranger: Nah, we’re not so uncommon. You just have to seek us out J
I figured the conversation would end there. It seemed like a good place.
The name of the game was Failure, and I was running out of time, now that it
was 7:09. And this stranger wasn’t failing. I was starting to type my goodbye
when the stranger began typing again.
Stranger: So, what is a Harry Potter fan like you doing on a website like
this?
You: Playing Failure.
I explained the game, and he (I found out this was a guy) thought it
sounded kind of funny.
Stranger: I wish you could do that in real life. Just walk up to someone
and say “Inception!” and then see what they say.
You: “WTF?” is most common.
Stranger: But it’s really good to weed people out. You can easily figure
out the kind of people you want to talk to.
You: I never thought of it like that. I was just looking for the trolls
hahaha.
Stranger: Hmm, maybe you need to look at Omegle with the glass half full
or something haha. Anyway I need to do homework, have to read this book by
Camus for English and answer some questions about DNA operons.
You: AP Bio? Sucks. I feel you haha. I need to go…read Harry Potter, I
think.
Stranger: Third book?
You: Third book. J
I disconnected the conversation and saved the log, but not to send to
Anna. I just liked it. In all my time spent playing Failure and ALL CAPS, I had
never contemplated having a real conversation. I liked it because you could lie
and write fiction and be someone you would never be. It never occurred to me I
could enjoy being myself more. For me, the internet had been this opportunity
to avoid the truth. The truth was hard. It was all my insecurities, boys not
liking me back, not getting into college, my makeup less face, zits and all. I
hid the truth in real life, and up until a few minutes ago, I never understood
how the internet could be a chance to escape my hiding place. I could be
Lindsey, and I am never just Lindsey.
My phone buzzed, bringing me out of my Omegle fog. Anna.
Hey it’s 7:25 and you haven’t
emailed me pics yet! It’s cool though, because I know I won J
Yeah right. Mine were pretty
much devastating single word replies!
I didn’t really feel like telling her about my conversation. Partly
because Anna was much more sensible than I was and would not approve of
actually talking to these people, but mostly because I just wanted it to be
mine. I sent her the pictures, and after a long debate she decided that she had
won when someone replied “Edward is better.” I read Harry Potter and went to
bed, holding that little part of my night nearby. It wasn’t this big deal
anyway—it had lasted fifteen minutes. I just liked connecting with someone, who
could be anywhere in this world, over something like Harry Potter. Two people
somehow affecting each other by sending words across the web. Two people who
told the truth without a second thought. Two people with nothing to hide.
When I picked up Anna for school the next morning, she practically leaped
into my car, yelling “I HAVE NEWS!” Her coffee thermos spit little droplets out
the top and onto the console.
“Okay! You have to speak in a normal volume though, or I may have to do something
very unkind with the hot coffee you are holding,” I informed her, flicking the
console droplets away.
“Fiiiine,” Anna huffed. “But the volume just makes it so much more
dramatic!” I rolled my eyes, pulling out of her driveway and onto the street.
“Anyways, I have the real story about
Aaron Lewis. From his cousin, Courtney, who you very well know is my neighbor
and occasional confidante. Even though I don’t really like her, but sometimes
her mother watches our dog and it’s that kind of relationship.”
“Get on with it I want to know!” I did
want to know, but it was kind of aggravating that Anna decided to drag it out
like this.
“Alright I am
getting there! It turns out that he didn’t break up with Lexi!” I waited for
her to say more.
“So they are still together…?” I don’t even know why it mattered, except
that we liked the gossip as much as anyone.
“No, she broke up with him because his grandma died and she was tired of
having to cheer him up! She’s the horrible one!” Anna was beaming. “And like
his status was about his grandma last night, not Lexi, like everyone thought,
which just makes her sound that much more evil! I don’t know why but I find it
much easier to dislike cheerleaders. And I knew he wasn’t the kind of guy to
break up with a girl over something that superficial!” She proclaimed this in
an annoyingly true “I told you so!” kind of tone.
“I guess, but Ellie sounded pretty convincing…”I smiled. Ellie did sound
convincing, but this sounded like something Lexi would do in between spray tans
or something.
I didn’t even think about that car conversation until Aaron literally ran
into me. I was rounding the corner heading to fourth period when a tree trunk
of a human plowed into me. Our books flew. We stopped traffic. In the confusion
of trying to grab our notebooks we got ours mixed up. I had his binder and his
novel, while he had my bio notebook and Harry Potter…I was kind of embarrassed
that he was holding that, despite the self-affirming Omegle conversation from
the night before.
“Oh, um, sorry I think I grabbed your some of your books…”I stopped
talking as I realized I was holding his copy of The Stranger, by Camus. Well
that’s the coincidence of the year. Weird.
“Thanks, and uh, sorry for running into you…”He handed me my books, and
his eyes glanced at the cover of Harry Potter and then up at me, confused.
“Third book?” He asked me.
What? No way…
“Third book,” I replied, suddenly seeing a very different Aaron Lewis.
He smiled, “It’s my favorite.”
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