Read Online Scripted by Maya Rock - Free Book Online

my literature test,” she declares, lying on her back, entirely exposed to the cameras on the ceiling. “Nice picture,” she says, noticing the framed photo of a conch shell next to my shelves behind us. Lia’s been on me for seasons to decorate, saying my bone-white walls need the help, so I knew she’d approve of this photo I scored at a Four Corners tag sale. She stretches her arms out above her head and arches like a gymnast, then lifts her legs up until her toes touch the slanted ceiling above my bed. “Yippee,” she crows before letting her legs fall flat. I sense her relief that we’ve stopped fralling, her natural ease in front of the cameras taking over. She’s like a lightbulb with multiple wattages, and she’s on High now. I write down her grade.
    â€œAlso, Ms. Pepperidge likes the play.”
    â€œPlus ten.”
    â€œYeah, I know. It’ll definitely set me apart from the other Blisslet applicants.” Lia wants to apprentice as an actress in the island theater troupe. There are four slots and nine girls interested. But she’s Lia—she’s going to get it.
    She sits up abruptly and turns, positioning her face so at least four cameras have a good shot of her.
    â€œI actually made a major change in the play,” she confides. “Instead of cheating on the chemistry test, the Mia character is going to embezzle funds from her dad’s bank.”
    â€œYeah?” I like listening to Lia talk about her play stuff. My mind just doesn’t work like hers—I’m all about cut-and-dried logic.
    â€œYup, and I even might have her go to jail. What do you think?”
    â€œWell, I—”
    â€œI know, I know,” she says, playing with her braid again. “Now people might just end up hating her. But I think I can still show her vulnerability.” She takes the notebook from me. “Okay, your Good Things.”
    I have one—yesterday’s math test.
    Lia writes it down, sighing, “Already time for Bad Things.” She hums as she thinks. “Well, obvious, no close-up, and—” She hesitates, then scrawls a lowercase
m
on a line by itself. Tiny
m
’s are scattered all through this volume of the Diary.
    â€œMom again?” I say.
    She nods, ducking out of view of the cameras and motioning me to come closer. “She got so plastered on Monday that she tripped down the stairs and sprained her ankle. Dad just hid out in his study.” Lia’s father is really into his job, adult education. He’s sort of an absentminded professor most of the time, only ever speaking up, it seems, to admonish Lia if her grades aren’t up to par. Grades don’t matter if you want to become a Blisslet, but he wants her to be like him.
    I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to respond to the stuff about her mom. “Sorry about that,” I say on-mic, inching backward. It’s all I can think of, and with my ratings the way they are, I need to stay on-camera, which means cutting down on the fralling.
    â€œYup, it sucks,” she says bluntly, reaching for the Diary again. “Hey, I came up with one—did you finish your radio? That would be a Good Thing.”
    â€œYeah, I did.” I look over at the completed radio on my desk. I’m about to tell her what I heard on Media1’s walkie-talkie channel, but she’s off and running before I have a chance.
    â€œHow are we going to get you out of Fincher’s?” Lia says. She nibbles at the top of the lucky pen. “Maybe you should ask Mr. Black about the math teacher apprenticeship. That could be your Vow for next week.” She pokes my knee with the pen, arching her eyebrows, like,
See?
This is it. Her attempt to get me off the E.L.
    â€œBut Revere’s been working for the slot since they were announced. I won’t be able to catch up,” I protest, curling up on my side across from her.
    â€œThe Double A is