Are You Still There Read Online Free PDF Page B

the members blend together. There’s Nate, a wannabe gangster type; Tihn, our student government president and a competitive piano player; Stacey, a squeaky string bean who looks and sounds like a wisp of air; Clarke, an emo type with so much hair I can’t see his face; Amar, who was born in India and plays in the high school band; Bryan, who I’m pretty sure was in the resource class that I TA’d for sophomore year; Christina, who’s active in her youth group and spends forty dollars a week on smoothies; and Carla, who could double as a multicolored bouncy ball and wears her cheerleader uniform at least once a week.
    â€œOkay, folks. Take five.” Paisley calls out. “Then we’ll come back together.”
    I stand up to stretch my legs. That weirdo Miguel is edging closer to me, so I avoid him by going to the bathroom. Janae is in there, leaning in close, redoing her eye makeup. I don’t know how she gets it so thick without smearing it. It’s a talent. I smile at her in the mirror, feeling strangely shy.
    When I step out, Miguel is standing there waiting. “Hola,” he says.
    â€œHow is it that I’ve never seen you before in my life, and then all of a sudden you’re everywhere I go?” I touch my earrings, trying to remember which ones I wore today. Small gold hoops. “You stalking me?” I joke.
    He looks confused for a moment. “Stalking?”
    Okay, so now I’m way embarrassed. He’s totally an ESL kid. And I’m stuck having to find a way to define the word “stalking.” “Uh, that means like watching. Watching me.”
    He smiles, and recognition brightens his face in layers. “Yes!” He nods. “I’m stalking you.” There’s a certain peacefulness about it—like he’s happy or light or something. “It’s hard not to stalk someone so beautiful.”
    Is he for real? If he wasn’t so obviously clueless, I’d think he was messing with me. Paisley saves me though. She claps her hands again. “People, gather up! I’m glad you’re all getting to know each other, but we’ve got some more work to get done today.”
    I give Miguel a mini wave and head back to my seat. He follows me, though, and sits his butt right down next to me. This causes everyone else to shift their seats accordingly.
    Dr. Paisley brings out a large dry-erase board. “Here, Cruz. Hold this for me.” She grabs the empty chair next to him. “I’ll divide you into teams of two.”
    We all look at each other. The lights suddenly feel way too bright.
    â€œYour shifts will be from four to nine p.m., and we’ll be open seven days a week. We’ll need to log every call—the time it comes in, how long it lasts, the main topics discussed, and whether you give a referral.”
    My brain starts to spin.
    â€œThere are two ways calls will come in. Via live phone call and via text.”
    â€œDo we get loaner cell phones so we can text back?” Christina asks. “Because my parents will flip if I’m texting strangers with my own cell.”
    â€œNo. The texts will come in through one of the two computers we have set up in the office. They have a secure and encrypted web-based SMS-texting platform. A text will pop up on the computer, and you answer it by typing on the keyboard. You won’t be able to see the actual phone number you’re texting to for confidentiality purposes.”
    Yikes. Too much to keep track of .
    Paisley goes on. “I suspect you’ll find the texting simpler, because that’s how you all communicate these days anyway. Plus, you can easily collaborate on how best to help the texter. Live phone calls are harder, because although your shift partner can write notes and suggestions for you on a notepad, ultimately it comes down to you.”
    Gulp . I raise my hand. “Are both partners taking calls at the same