Facebook Jeanie Read online

  CHAPTER 3

  JEANIE, FROM FACEBOOK

  In a flash of blinding exuberance, a young twenty-something girl with the blond ponytail of a Texas cheerleader burst into Clara’s cube.

  “I’m so excited to be here!”

  “What?” Clara gasped, sitting straight back in her chair.

  “Oh my gosh. Where are my manners?” The girl bounced over to Clara’s desk in the twinkle of an eye. “I’m Jeanie! From Facebook!” She brought her hands together for a clap of delight.

  Clara brought her hands up, too, in confusion. “You’re…” She looked around behind Jeanie as if perhaps the partition of her cube might provide an explanation. Finding none, she asked, “I’m sorry, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to help you out!” Jeanie declared, bringing a French-manicured hand to her hip. She wore a black pencil skirt and a trim-fitting bubble gum pink jacket. Her 3-inch heels matched the exact shade of pink.

  “You’re…?”

  “Here to volunteer!”

  Beginning to get a slight grasp on the situation, Clara turned to click on her electronic calendar. Maybe she’d overlooked the appointment? She sometimes coordinated the summer internships of volunteers, though less so since she’d moved to compliance. Most young do-gooders wanted volunteer experience out in the field, helping at an afterschool center or a childcare facility. Earnest young bespectacled things wearing ironic grandpa cardigans in the middle of July, none of them had ever looked anything like Jeanie.

  “I don’t have you on here.” She looked at a completely blank Friday, May 10th.

  “Totally spur of the moment,” Jeanie confessed. “Is it OK if I—?” She pointed at the chair by the door.

  “OK.”

  “I know it’s totally random how I burst in on you like this,” Jeanie burbled. “I’m just so excited! You know how it is when you get an idea? It’s like this light bulb goes off in your head and you’re like—now! Let’s get started!”

  Having only the remotest tinge of a memory of ever having felt such zest and enthusiasm about anything, Clara kept the polite if startled smile on her face.

  “So, Clara, let’s get started!”

  “OK.” Clara grasped the desk to ground herself. “So, you work for Facebook?”

  “Coolest company ever!”

  “And you’d like to do some volunteer work with our agency?”

  “Starting now.”

  “I see.” Starting to wonder if Jeanie wasn’t a few eggs shy of a dozen, Clara gave her a closer look. Impeccably groomed, perfect posture, sitting spry and poised on the chair in her pink heels at the CAHWCFC. Yup, she was probably insane. “Let me just call up to HR.” She moved to pick up her desk phone.

  “Oh!” Jeanie gave a light, tinkling laugh. She reached into her black patent leather purse and pulled out a file. “I’m so silly, you must think I’m nuts. I should have started by giving you this.” Clara took the file from her. “It’s my resume, plus some letters of recommendation.”

  Clara glanced at the letter on top. “This is from Mark Zuckerberg.” She looked at Jeanie. “He’s the CEO of Facebook. Isn’t he a little busy to be writing you letters of recommendation?”

  Jeanie made a quick, dismissive wave with her hand. “It’s standard protocol when we’re out in the field product-testing and getting to know our market. It’s no big deal. But, anyway, he’s really a nice guy. And his wife is sooo cool.”

  “You know him?” She couldn’t say why, but Clara felt herself somehow believing it. “And his wife?”

  “Just, like, from company parties and stuff,” Jeanie demurred. “It’s a super-young company where everyone hangs out and gets to know each other. We have a lot of fun. Like I bet you guys do here!”

  Clara burst out a snort-laugh, glad she hadn’t been taking a sip of anything at the moment.

  “So, what can I start on?” Jeanie looked at her expectantly. “I can spend the rest of the day today.”

  “You can?” In Clara’s experience, young Silicon Valley types ate, slept, dated, did laundry and hit the gym all within the complex of their company’s office buildings. It was like a giant Willy Wonka Factory: kids entered at 22 only to emerge at 35 as billionaires. “You work for Facebook and you’re here on a Thursday morning to volunteer? Are you sure that works with your schedule?”

  “I’m out in the field a ton. I’m a Product Liaison, connecting our newest services with target clients. It’s super fun!” Clara nodded, imagining that the world’s energy concerns would be solved if someone could figure out how to tap into the wattage emanating from Jeanie’s smile.

  “Well, OK, Jeanie from Facebook.” Clara felt her defenses weakening against such persistent optimism. “And you’re sure you want to volunteer here in central office?”

  “Yup.” As eager as a puppy in a park.

  “In compliance?”

  “You bet.” As chipper as an elf on Christmas.

  “Because usually people want to volunteer to do something. I mean, direct service.”

  “But I want to learn about behind the scenes. Where the real action is!”

  Stifling a laugh, Clara said, “All right. But I don’t actually have anything set up for you right now. I didn’t know you were coming today.”

  “Maybe I could read some background materials? To get me started?” Jeanie’s face beamed, radiant.

  So energetic. So earnest. So annoyingly like Clara herself had been years ago. “Sure, I can get something together for you.” Clara sighed and moved over to her gray metal filing cabinet. Jeanie continued chatting away merrily, saying something about how much she enjoyed helping people out when they were having a tough time.

  At the bottom of the drawer, Clara came across a 300-page report she’d filed last month: Analysis of fiscal and policy impact of the complaint processing units in the Compliance Operations Division (CODIV) of CAHWCFC. With a mischievous smile, Clara hoisted it up by its giant binder. That would do nicely.

  “So, you like Facebook?” Jeanie asked with a mischievous smile of her own.

  “What?” Clara nearly dropped the binder. Her cell phone was on her desk; had she left Brad’s Facebook page up? A nervous glance at the screen revealed her innocuous fall leaves screen saver. “No! I mean, why do you ask?”

  “Well, I work there!”

  “Right.” Clara composed herself. “I mean, Facebook’s OK. I’m not on it a ton.”

  Jeanie gave a knowing “Mmm.” Then something caught her attention. “Oh my gosh!” She rose from her chair and approached Clara’s desk. “You have an iPhone!” She looked up at Clara. “I have an iPhone!” She sounded as if she’d just discovered that they each had the matching halves of a magic amulet.

  Clara nodded. She had to find out what kind of coffee this girl drank.

  “Do you love it? I totally love mine.” Jeanie reached into her bag and produced her iPhone nestled snug in a bejeweled pink case.

  “You sure love pink,” Clara observed.

  “It’s my favorite color! How did you know?”

  “Wild guess.”

  “You’re super smart, I can tell. And I work with the smartest people in the world at Facebook. Seriously, you’d never believe what they come up with.” Jeanie shook her head. “Which reminds me!” Quick as a wink, she had Clara’s phone in her hand. She swiped her index finger over the screen to unlock it, then tapped and typed.

  “Um, what are you doing?” Clara watched as this person she didn’t know messed around with one of her more expensive, treasured possessions. A normal Clara would simply stop her, snatch that phone back out of her perfectly manicured hands and shoo her out of the office. But Clara at the moment felt confused and off-kilter, like she was moving in slow motion.

  “We have a new app!” Jeanie kept at it, tapping away at Clara’s phone. “I. Am. So. Super Excited About It! It takes the Facebook experience to a whole new level. And I know you’re going to LOVE it. It’s, like, made for you. I’m downl
oading it now.”

  “Oh, that’s OK—”

  “But it’s super hush hush.” Jeanie looked up with sudden, serious intensity. “Don’t mention it to anyone. We’re just in beta testing, so only a few select clients are in on it.”

  “It’s a secret app?” Clara wondered for a moment if she was being filmed for a reality TV show.

  “I’m not trying to freak you out!” Jeanie’s demeanor changed from rain storm to sunshine. “I’m sure everything’s going to go great. There!” She set Clara’s phone back on her desk. “All set!”

  “OK then.” Clara thrust the giant binder at Jeanie. “Why don’t you get started on this.”

  “Is that for me? Can I take it with me?”

  “Yes. And then we can email and see if there’s something for you next week.”

  “Great! Thank you!” Jeanie embraced the binder as if receiving a bouquet. “I feel like we’ve gotten off to an awesome start!” Much to Clara’s surprise, she then shouldered her bag and turned to go. Pausing in the doorway, Jeanie turned around with a smile. “It’s so nice to meet you. I can’t wait to get to know you better. And now everything’s all set up to start!”

  “Yeah,” Clara agreed, nodding. The girl seemed nice but definitely out to lunch.

  “So, don’t you forget to check out that app!” Jeanie’s eyes twinkled with unbridled mirth. She really did look a bit like Audrey Hepburn, if Audrey Hepburn were blonde and played a 1950’s airline stewardess. “You’re going to love it.”

  Did she just wink at her? Clara stood looking at the entry to her cube, feeling as if she’d probably dreamed the whole encounter. She picked up her phone. Sure enough, next to the small blue square with the white lower-case f for Facebook there was now another, new matching blue square. Only the white lettering on it read, in all caps: RESET.

  Hmm. Clara traced the word on her screen lightly with her index finger. Reset. Didn’t that mean starting over, cleaning out everything you had installed? Could be a disaster. But what did Jeanie mean it took Facebook to a whole new level? Clara pictured Brad on the beach, that devilish grin. Maybe it made everything 3D! Or it was like a scratch and sniff app!

  Her finger hovered over the icon. But the clock on the screen already read 11:15. And she actually did have some things she needed to take care of that day.

  She set down her phone. She didn’t have time just then. But soon, definitely soon, she’d hit that RESET button and see what happened.

  CHAPTER 4

  RESET

  Clara rode on the BART train into San Francisco to meet Cat for dinner. She’d left straight from work. Every single person on the train had their nose in some type of electronic gadget. The guy next to her was watching cartoons on his iPad. No, Gil would have corrected her, he was watching Japanese Anime. Gil had loved anime. But really, he’d loved all cartoons.

  Looking out the window at the industrial Oakland waterfront, she had to admit Gil had never pretended to be anything other than what he was: an adult-sized kid. He was always clear about what he thought of the whole Yuppie 2.5 children deathtrap scenario. He sneered at those he saw as selling out and losing their freedom.

  But when they’d met at 25 the question “is this guy husband/father material?” hadn’t even crossed Clara’s mind. She’d just thought, “look at his gorgeous blue eyes.” He’d taken her on adventures, surfing in Santa Cruz and rock climbing in Joshua Tree. He was so exciting, so spontaneous.

  She couldn’t believe her good fortune when they’d moved in together. True, when she looked back on it the catalyst had been both finding themselves without roommates. She believed the phrase “save a ton of cash” had been involved, but it had felt like more. In fact, she’d been sure it had to mean more than it would to the average guy because he was such a free spirit.

  With a sigh, she rubbed her forehead. The BART train was heading underground, about to go through the long stretch of bay into San Francisco.

  Pulling her jacket up under her chin, Clara tried to conjure up a happier image: Brad. But with a grimace, she realized it was the second weekend in May. Exactly 10 years ago this had been The Weekend It Had All Gone Down. Classes had been over. The campus had been in study period before exams started. Which had meant, of course, that Brad’s frat had decided to throw a giant casino-themed bash.

  Clara closed her eyes and remembered.

  She’d worn gold lamé, something Cat had dressed her up in, of course. Back in college, she’d been Cat’s personal mannequin and she’d never looked better. With black leggings and shocking red heels she’d had a bit of the Olivia Newton John at the end of Grease vibe to her. Maybe with less poofy hair, but she’d felt pretty badass, she remembered, jetting right up past the line of people at the door.

  She knew the guy collecting tickets and cash, one of Brad’s frat brothers. And, more importantly, he knew her as a VIP: a bonafide long-term girlfriend of a senior frat brother. It didn’t get more inner circle. With an appreciative “Smokin’!” and a smile, he opened the door.

  Inside, the party was just kicking into gear. The main hall of the house with its grand, Gatsby-esque high ceilings had been transformed with roulette wheels and blackjack tables. Complete with dealers and disco balls, the night crackled with electricity. It wasn’t hard to find Brad; he stood behind the bar with some of his brothers, filling up those ubiquitous plastic cups with beer from limitless kegs.

  “Babe!” He pulled her close into a lusty kiss. Rugged good looks, sandy hair and blue eyes. Their friends had teased them that they were Barbie and Ken. Some of the guys had dressed up, a college kids’ version of cheesy Vegas with shiny shirts and shoes. But not Brad. He was at effortless ease in a faded classic baby blue oxford, so soft and frayed around the edges it fit him to perfection. She’d hopped behind the bar with him for a few minutes to help out, flagrantly going where so few girls were allowed to go.

  Until the chest bump heard round the world. Another frat brother in a tattered backwards-facing baseball cap had burst in on the scene. Hurtling himself toward Brad, the two had thumped chests like wildebeests on the African Plane.

  “NYC, bro!” the interloper yelled.

  “No shit!” another guy behind the bar roared, holding up his hand for a high five.

  Clara hadn’t figured it out yet. “Are you going on a road trip?” she asked him after he’d been released from his frat brothers’ clutches. And then she saw it, the quick flash of guilt in his eyes. That moment of, ‘better get this over with.’ He took her hand and led her out through the tables, the throngs of partygoers, and over to a relatively quieter spot in an adjacent room.

  “What’s up?” Clara asked, growing nervous but still without any real sense of gravitas. He took off his cap and ran his hands through his thick shock of hair.

  “I’ve taken a job at my dad’s company.” He exhaled and had the decency to look sheepish as he met her eyes.

  “You’ve what?”

  “In the intern program. He’s not playing any favorites. But it’s too good an opportunity to pass up.”

  “Isn’t that in New York City?” Clara was starting to get it. Starting to feel the air squeezed out of her chest, the blood pounding in her head.

  “Everyone’s moving to the city after we graduate, babe! Zeke, Meat, Slats,” he counted out the names on his fingers, then summed it up with, “Everyone.”

  “But, that’s going to be hard to pull off. Since you and I are moving to San Francisco after we graduate.”

  “Yeah, I know we’d talked about that but—”

  “No!” Clara corrected, her voice elevating, her hands shaking. “We haven’t just talked about it. We agreed to do it! We’ve been making plans!”

  “Yeah, well, plans change.” Brad adopted a decidedly more contrary tone.

  “But what about doing something good for humanity!” Clara burned with the fire of righteousness. “We’ve been so excited about moving to San Francisco. Both getting jobs to change the world, make it a
better place!” Brad looked around nervously to see if any of his frat brothers overheard. Her anger accelerated as she noted his discomfort.

  “You want me to keep it down?” she yelled.

  “Listen.” Brad started getting worried and put an arm around her, offering appeasement. “I want you to come to the city, too!”

  “Where I’m from we call San Francisco ‘the city.’”

  “OK, sure.” He adopted the tone one uses when soothing a tantruming child. “Now listen. Come to New York City with me. It’s going to be a blast. Everyone’s moving there. It’ll be like the party never stops.”

  Clara broke away. “I don’t want to keep hanging out with all the same people!” Her voice rose. “We’re about to graduate! Don’t you get it? This is our chance to make a difference! Do something big!”

  Brad put his hands up, defensively. “Listen. This intern thing is too good an opportunity to pass up. And my dad pretty much laid down the line. He’s not up for me moving cross country to work in some nonprofit saving the whales. He’ll cut me off.”

  “But isn’t that what you want to do?” Clara looked at him, disbelieving. She needed a bat like in cartoons so she could whap him over the head and he’d snap out of it. “You know, I’m going to help kids. You’re going to get an internship at Earth Justice Now!” They’d had so much fun, late night munching on nachos and planning it all out. But maybe mostly it had been her planning it all out and him munching on nachos?

  “What about recycling club?” she asked. “Was that all just a joke to you?”

  He shrugged. “I had to do my community service hours.” Noting her mouth agape with shock, he added hastily, “And I care about the earth. I do. But…” He shrugged again, a move Clara was quickly learning to hate. “I’m sorry, babe. Plans don’t always work out. But it’s no biggie. You’ll come to the city, too, and we’ll have a blast.”