Whisker Wizard Page 4
Le sigh.
* * *
The next day at school, I kept my head down. I didn’t raise my hand. I didn’t talk to anyone. Above all, I avoided every possible thing related to mayonnaise.
Of course, the lunch lady served me a giant egg salad sandwich.
I was starting to wish I had never gone viral. All I wanted was to be normal again, to be myself without everyone telling me what to do or how to think.
But it was too late for me. The Whisker Maestro seemed to be loving the drama. He kept posting things about our “beef” to keep the controversy going.
That’s when things started going from bad to really, really bad.
The Whisker Maestro—I was using his online persona name, now that we were no longer friends—began to release snippets from our conversations as “proof of mayo use.”
He even posted the link to the original recipe I used, which had mayonnaise as an ingredient.
“The whole thing is ridiculous,” I told Penny on the bus home after school.
“Listen, Babymouse,” she said. “This looks really bad. From now on, you need to do everything I tell you.”
My brain was so fried that I just agreed.
“Okay, what do I do?”
“First things first,” she told me. “We need to show your receipts!”
I looked into my bag and pulled out all the receipts I could find.
Penny laughed and shook her head.
“Not those kinds of receipts, Babymouse,” she said. “Receipts are proof of your side of the story.”
“Oh!” I replied, finally getting it.
Penny seemed to know exactly what to do. I decided to just give her control of my Whisker Wizards account. If she couldn’t rein the chaos in, no one could.
Once I got home, I sent her my login information and tried to focus on other things while she got to work. She said it should take about an hour.
One hour. That wasn’t so bad. Surely, I could come up with enough things to do that weren’t based on social media. I’d already finished my homework during study period.
I sat on my bed, and my mind went blank. I tried to think about what I used to do before I became an online celebrity, but I couldn’t think of anything. It seemed like such a long time ago.
Did I like to do jigsaw puzzles? I tried to remember.
Judging by the age range of the only puzzle I could find, I think maybe I didn’t.
How about coloring? I asked myself.
But my coloring book was covered in dust, and all the pages were already filled in.
Maybe I can watch kids’ shows with Squeak?
I went downstairs and plopped on the couch beside him. I started to watch, but the show was so nonsensical and the music was so cheesy that it started driving me insane. Surely, anything—really, anything at all—had to be better than watching that garbage.
Garbage! That gave me an idea.
I tracked down my mom to see if she had any chores for me to do.
“Mom, is there any cleaning around the house I can help out with?” I asked.
“What?” Mom replied with an eyebrow raised. “Who are you, and what did you do with the real Babymouse?”
She was so worried that she made me go upstairs and take my temperature.
Thermometer in mouth, I broke down and texted Penny. It had only been sixteen minutes.
I was back to trying other hobbies. But nothing was working out so well.
When I tried to meditate, my mind just drifted off to the online feud.
When I opened my diary, I started writing about the Whisker Maestro.
I called Wilson to chat, but it turned into me unloading on him about everything that had happened.
I collapsed on my bed and took a nap.
Ding!
I was woken up about forty-five minutes later by a soft noise. I wiped the drool from my mouth and checked my phone. Penny had texted me.
Penny told me she went through all the DMs between me and the Whisker Maestro, and there wasn’t anything that could help my case. If I posted any of my messages, they would only show I’d misspelled a lot of words.
Tipical.
Typical.
She told me that things online had pretty much stayed the same, except a new poll had popped up on Whisker Wizards.
I couldn’t believe it! An online poll? How humiliating. I tried to tell myself that maybe my fans would come out in big numbers to support me. Surely, some people who had fawned all over me just days before would still be on my side, no? How much damage could the mayo rumors do to my overall reputation, right? Right?
* * *
The next day at school, I got a rude awakening. I witnessed the debate in real life as I walked down the hallway.
The next morning, my fears were confirmed: the Whisker Maestro had completely swept the online poll.
There must have been some mistake! Was there really that big of a landslide?
At school, Penny came right over to my locker. She gave me a hug, which is how I knew things were really bad.
“Don’t forget,” she said. “There could be a huge margin of error with that kind of poll.”
“Yeah!” said Felicia, walking by. “In reality, the Whisker Maestro could have won the whole thing!”
Argh!
“Anyway,” Penny said, ignoring her, “I voted for you, so I know that can’t possibly be true.”
I didn’t have the guts to tell her I also voted for myself—fourteen times.
After school, I half-heartedly tried to do some new whisker looks, but nothing was quite working. I had also run out of free products, now that the sponsorships had dried up.
I guess I should have rationed things better, because after I’d used up my products, I moved on to Dad’s whisker mousse. I went through the whole bottle, and he was forced to use the only thing left in the bathroom…Whizzzzkers.
I decided to walk to the pharmacy to get some more whisker products, for old times’ sake. I couldn’t believe I had to buy products for my whiskers.
How the mighty have fallen, I thought with a sigh.
What?! The Whisker Maestro was at the same pharmacy as me! I was sure it was him, even though he wasn’t wearing makeup, a wig (it was a wig—I knew it!), or whisker extensions. Without all the add-ons, he looked, well, normal.
I stared at him for a long time. Then I took out my phone and snapped a picture of him on the sly.
Maybe I could post the picture of Nicky without his fake facade to show everyone who he really is, I thought.
His fans would be shocked to know the #truth. And they, like me, would be horrified to learn he was buying Basic Whiskers! That was the most boring whisker product out there. If only his sponsors knew! The truth could destroy him.
Suddenly, I felt like I had all the power back. With just one simple post, I could blow up his sponsorships, shock all his fans, and maybe even make myself relevant again!
Sure, Nicky had never said he didn’t wear makeup, a wig, or whisker extensions. But just the same, celebrity followers never like being deceived.
And it would feel so good to have everyone on my side again….
But then what? I wondered.
Then he would fall from fame and be in the same position as me? Then he would feel as terrible as I did? I didn’t really want that, either. I wasn’t going to stoop to that level just to be popular.
You’re better than that, Babymouse, I reminded myself.
I took a deep breath and deleted the photo. Fame wasn’t worth being mean for.
But I still wanted answers. I thought about whether to go over and confront him directly. It was hard to believe that this would be our first meeting in person.
What’s the worst that could happen? I wondered. He could be rude to my face, and somehow use the interaction to make me even LESS popular?
&
nbsp; I didn’t think that was possible.
Nicky still hadn’t noticed me, and I made sure to keep it that way.
Just when I had mustered up enough courage to talk to him, I tripped over my own feet and knocked into a giant display of denture cream.
CRASH!
The whole display fell onto the floor around me.
Nicky rushed over to see what had happened, along with an angry manager.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” the manager asked. It was pretty clear he did not actually care whether I was okay.
I could feel my face blushing dark red as I stammered, “Well, um—yeah, yeah, I’m o-o-okay.”
He nodded and picked up his walkie-talkie.
“Cleanup on aisle seven, please. Cleanup on aisle seven.”
Two employees arrived to clean up aisle seven.
Nicky had just spotted me. “Babymouse?” he asked, looking into my face. “Is that…is that you?”
“Yep,” I responded coolly. “I’m surprised you’d even recognize me outside the mayonnaise section.”
Instead of saying something snarky back, he burst out laughing.
“Good one,” he said, bending down to help pick up the mess. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Like you care,” I huffed.
I didn’t understand why he was acting like everything was fine between us. Everything was not fine, and I wasn’t going to pretend it was.
“I do care, actually,” Nicky replied, caught off guard. “We’re friends, Babymouse!”
“Friends?!” I snapped. “How can you think we’re still friends?”
“What?” he asked. “Are you still mad about the mayonnaise thing?”
THE MAYONNAISE THING? I wanted to scream. He made it sound like I was overreacting to a small mistake instead of dealing with a major life event that led to the fall of my whisker dynasty!
“I’ll have you know THE MAYONNAISE THING was one of the worst things to ever happen to me in my whole, entire life!” I erupted.
Nicky started laughing.
“I’m sorry to laugh,” he said between gasps. “But you’re so funny. No wonder everyone loves you.”
“Huh?” Flattery was not going to work on this mouse. Not no way, not no how.
“Look,” he went on. “The mayonnaise thing wasn’t real. I mean it was, but not in real life. It was just to get clicks. Everyone loves drama!”
“Are you serious?” I asked. “So it was all made up?”
“Of course,” Nicky said, looking confused. “You thought it was real?”
I nodded. Of course I thought it was real!
“Not at all,” Nicky continued. “See, a lot of influencers get into phony feuds to drive more clicks. I thought you knew that. It happens all the time online.”
Hmph.
“Well, you should have told me at the beginning. Not to mention all the kids at my school. I had no idea. My life has been a nightmare because of the fallout online. And that poll—yikes!”
“Oh, whoops,” Nicky replied. “That was my fault, too. I used an algorithm to get a bunch of wizard bots to vote for me. They voted thousands of times.”
Wizard bots?
If his wizard bots voted for him thousands of times, that means A LOT of people voted for ME, I thought.
This whole thing was getting weirder and weirder. My head was starting to hurt.
“Look, Babymouse,” Nicky said. “I’m really sorry for hurting you. I guess I didn’t think about how it would seem to you IRL. I won’t do anything like that again—without letting you know and making sure you want to play along.”
“Okay,” I replied. “That sounds like a good start.”
“I do hope we can still be friends,” he said. “Just maybe not online.”
He put out his hand to shake.
I was still unsure, but he seemed sincere in his apology.
I looked at his hand for a minute without shaking it. I would give him another chance.
(I secretly thought how glad I was that I didn’t post my picture of him!)
I decided to change the subject.
“So, what’s that you got there?” I asked, pointing to the Basic Whiskers bottle in his basket.
“This stuff is the best!” he said. “My mom uses it. It’s actually one of my favorite products.”
“That’s funny,” I replied. “My mom uses it, too. So do I, sometimes.”
“Along with denture cream?” Nicky pointed to my basket, which had a couple of tubes that had fallen off the display.
“Don’t you dare think of starting that rumor,” I warned.
He shook his head innocently, and we both laughed. Now that I realized the feud was all fake, I felt a lot better.
Because there was so much to talk about, and it was our first time meeting in person, we decided to go grab sandwiches at the diner next door.
We laughed as we enjoyed our sandwiches. We got along in person just as well as we did online (you know, before the feud).
Suddenly, a camera flashed outside the window. Someone took a picture of us covered in mustard!
Finally, I had made it to the weekend. Outside my window, the sun was shining. Birds were chirping. My neighbor was mowing her lawn. It was the start of a beautiful day, and I was enjoying it from the comfort of my own bed.
Just then, my phone rang. It was Penny.
“Hello,” I said groggily.
“Did you see it?” she asked.
“See what?!” I asked. I wished people would assume I had no idea what they were talking about early in the morning….
“Hold on,” she said. “I’m texting you the link right now.”
“Seriously?!” I groaned “What a nightmare!”
“I know,” she said. “It’s the same thing all over again.”
Glued to my computer, I watched my latest scandal unfold across the internet. Images and posts popped up on my screen.
“When did it become such a terrible thing to use condiments?!” I asked. “Am I just supposed to eat everything dry for the rest of my life?”
“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea,” she said. “We should do damage control ASAP. Maybe you could issue a statement about…”
As she rambled on, I started to zone out. I looked out my window.
The sky was blue, and there were birds flying. They seemed so free and happy. They didn’t have to worry about social media or mayonnaise or whiskers.
“You know what, Penny?” I said, interrupting her. “I think I’m going to take a break from social media.”
“Really?” she asked. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”
“I think so, yeah,” I said. “I’m going to live in the real world for a while.”
“Okay,” Penny said. “But you know where to find me if you need me.”
“I do,” I replied. “And I appreciate you always being there for me. Thank you.”
“That’s what friends are for!”
After we hung up, I stared at my computer.
When did social media become stressful instead of fun? I wondered.
I thought about this for a moment, and then
I thought it would be easy, but it turns out that nothing is easy when it comes to social media.
Looking at the empty screen, I expected to feel anxious, but instead I just felt free!
I looked at my computer screen and searched for maps of things to do in my neighborhood. Of course, I immediately got sucked into a beauty site about trending nail polish looks.
Jennifer L. Holm and Matthew Holm are a New York Times bestselling sister-and-brother team. They are the creators behind several popular series: Babymouse, Squish, The Evil Princess vs. the Brave Knight, and My First Comics. The Eisner Award–winning Babymouse books have introduced millions of children to graphic novels. Je
nnifer is also the New York Times bestselling author of The Fourteenth Goldfish and several other highly acclaimed novels, including three Newbery Honor winners: Our Only May Amelia, Penny from Heaven, and Turtle in Paradise. Matthew is also the author of Marvin and the Moths with Jonathan Follett.
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