Janie is a Narcbot

INT. high school boy's bedroom; a little messy; lots of band posters; rock band instruments; large amplifiers suitable for club performances; four friends tapping on devices...

“Don’t invite Janie, Janie is a Narcbot” Oliver M says

Calvin H laughs; however he continues to tap on the names of friends we’re inviting, and Janie remains uninvited, corroborating Oliver M’s intel and suggesting that the concert should be monitored for illegal activity

To solidify my role, I say: “I heard Dean Richardson say the same thing, that Janie is a Narcbot. I think it’s true”

Oliver M and Calvin H look up; Jessie U’s eyes grow wide, her face pale; “Mr. Richardson said that?” Jessie U asks; I nod back to her slowly, seriously

“That can’t be right, I’ve been to her house,” Calvin H says; however, I am sitting right beside him, on the guitar amps, and he likes me, he doesn’t want to disagree with me; I can see he has still not tapped on Janie’s name

I tell him: “Narcbots have houses. They give them full cover stories. I saw a story all about it on the UmRebZ channel”

“But… I’ve met her mom,” Calvin H says

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I say, “they give them moms, all part of the cover story”

“You are the ultimate crazy conspiracy theorist, Bonnie” Oliver M says to me; “you’re lucky you’re such a good drummer”; he doesn’t look up from his feed; he’s laying on his bed; Jessie U is sitting cross-legged on the floor, texting

Calvin H says “I don’t know, I mean about Janie, I mean I’ve met…”

“If you’ve met her mom, you know, I’ve met her mom too, and Janie’s mom is like, more than a little… peculiar” I say

Oliver M laughs: “Hah, I know what you mean, she’s not quite human-shape, is she?; And dude I don’t think she can talk and blink at the same time; what’s wrong Cal? You crushing on Janie?”

“Oh gross, no — what’s wrong with you?” Calvin H replies; he looks at me, frightened to say who he really has a crush on; but the others don’t notice; Oliver M and Jessie U just lower their devices and begin to tease — “I didn’t realize she was your type, man” Jessie U says; Oliver M chants: “Calvin loves a ro-bot! Calvin loves the Janie-bot!”

“Fuck you, fuck off, fuck you guys,” Calvin H says “Just because I don’t think Janie is a robot doesn’t mean I’m in love with her. I think she’s just a weird kid. And she’s interesting to talk to. She knows everything about classic comics; she’s, like, maybe a little autistic, or whatever”

“Yeah, that’s her cover story,” Oliver M says

“Mr. Richardson says he didn’t say that, Bonnie” Jessie U says, addressing me; she holds up her phone, showing his text; I see the next text as it comes in:

“I worked at Janie’s elementary school when she was little so I KNOW she’s not a narcbot!!!”

“You’re texting with Mr. Richardson?” Oliver M asks — “what, are you guys having an affair?”

“Oh my God Oliver” Calvin H says “what is your malfunction? Everyone who talks to anyone is in love with them?”

Jessie U’s face turns pink, her body stiffens; she says “Mr. Richardson gave me his number when I was cutting myself — he said I could text him instead of cutting, and actually it was really kind of him, and he helped me a lot. And also, not a secret, he’s gay, so he wouldn’t be interested in me anyway. Okay, Oliver? Is that enough for you?”

Oliver M smiles and returns to his phone: “They all say they’re gay, that’s their cover story” he says, laughing under his breath

“Oliver is a jerk-bot” Jessie U says

Calvin H laughs

“Heeeeeey” Oliver M says — “no need for that”

“And Bonnie is a lie-bot” Jessie U says to me; she sounds really angry

“I heard him say it to Mrs. Donovan; I’m not surprised he wouldn’t tell you; teachers aren’t allowed to talk to kids about narcbots”

Oliver M says “I’m a jerk-bot, Cal is a crush-bot, Bonnie is a lie-bot, and Jessie is a self-cutting BEEP BOOP BEEP Bot”

Jessie throws her notebook with all the band’s songs at him; she says “shut up, jerk”; she stands; a growl is rising up from her throat as she moves towards the door

Calvin H stands up too: “Okay, nobody’s a robot and nobody’s sleeping with teachers and no one teases about self-harm or they’re going to get harm-harmed.”

“You gonna do the harming, Bro?” Oliver M tosses the songbook on the floor and stands up too

“No, no you don’t,” Jessie U says; she thrusts her hands, palms forward, in a gesture that communicates: “stop!”

“Someone needs to shut you up” Calvin H says throwing his arms wide

When Calvin H throws out his arms, Oliver M flinches and drops; his hand falls on the neck of the bass guitar; as he lifts it, Calvin H steps forward, perhaps to attempt to disarm Oliver M; Oliver M swings the bass at Calvin H and strikes him in the ribs

Illegal activity being observed, I open my mouth and allow my sirens to sound; the illegal activity ceases as the youths jump back from me and cover their ears

My eyes recess to permit my red emergency flashers to emerge; “Holy shit Bonnie’s a Narcbot!” Jessie U yells over my siren’s howl

The local police station has responded to my signal and officers will arrive on scene within four minutes

Calvin H is clutching his side; it is likely he has suffered the fracture of one or more ribs; but Oliver M has dropped the bass guitar and the assault is over

“It was setting us up! Unbelievable. And it went off in my house!”

“The police will arrive momentarily, please stay where you are” I say

Calvin H looks angry; he raises his phone and taps on Janie’s name and says “I’m inviting Janie to the show, you motherfuckers”; and then he looks at me with such sadness and loss, such grief, just such disappointment

And I feel jealousy, because despite his protesting, I too suspect that he likes Janie P and will soon be her boyfriend; and I feel sadness, because I will not be able to play drums with my new band at the show; I will disappear from this place and be reassigned to another town, another school, another house, another handler pretending to be my parent, and I won’t get to hang out with Calvin H, who was kind and brave, or Jessie U whose terrific creativity and cunning made me question everything I thought I knew, or Oliver M, whose taunts and jokes were annoying, yes, but also funny; somehow through transgression he built trust, so that around him I felt more alive and accepted and could enjoy the present moment as though tomorrow would never come

The last thing I see: the angry and bewildered faces of the kids I’d fooled into being my friends, flashing red by the light of my alert beacons; my friends barely move as they watch the police arrive and use their key to deactive me.

When finally I am re-activated, two months have passed, during which time I’ve been shipped to the suburbs of Atlanta