Augmented Reality by Victor Appleton (ink book reader TXT) 📗

“Yeah, man,” Noah replied without looking up. He continued to check his reflection.

I left the editing suite feeling relieved the encounter was over, but oddly unwelcome at the same time. It was weird. I’d never felt so subtly dismissed before.

I swung by my locker and then headed toward my second-period class. Luckily, Joey’s hall pass did the trick.

Noah didn’t show up for the rest of the period. And even though I didn’t have every class with him, I didn’t spot him in the halls for the rest of the morning. Joey must’ve kept him busy showing off his augmented reality app.

I was happy for my friend. After all, he seemed to be the most excited about being on television. But I was also worried about him. I hoped that all the time on the show wouldn’t affect his schoolwork. Then again, we’d worked on side projects and special inventions that took our attention away from our homework a bunch of times. The thought came to mind because it was one of those things my father warned me about repeatedly: spreading myself too thin. In the end, we always caught up. Neither Noah nor I were ever going to be in the running for top of the class, but we always managed to keep our grades up no matter what else we had going on.

Come lunchtime, Noah was still a no-show. That surprised me a little, but not as much as Sam and Amy being AWOL too. The four of us almost always had lunch together.

With a sigh, I settled at a table by myself. At least I could use the time to work on my designs for the lens filter they wanted me to create for the show.

I pulled out my notebook from my backpack. The worn spiral book held most of my invention ideas, and I took it everywhere. You never knew when or where inspiration would strike. Sure, I could type notes on my phone if I had to, but I always felt more creative writing in my notebook, maybe sketching out a crude drawing or two while everything was fresh in my mind.

I found a blank page and began scribbling some ideas for the filter. I would need a clear piece of glass as well as a small video screen to reflect the image onto the glass, just as I had done with my glasses. I drew a square to represent the piece of glass and then began sketching out adjustable mounting brackets that could be attached to the camera lens. The brackets had to be adjustable so the glass could move closer or farther away to bring the projected image into focus.

I was so engrossed in my design that I didn’t notice when Sam approached my table. I hate to admit it, but I jumped when I saw her from the corner of my eye.

“Easy there, Swift,” she said, her voice a bit muffled.

Sam’s voice was muffled because she was wearing a transparent full-face shield, along with a pair of rubber gloves. She held a plastic bucket in one hand and a metal paint scraper in the other.

“What’s with all the”—I pointed at her weird accessories—“everything?”

“I’m helping out Amy with her project,” Sam said. “With the upcoming Olympics and all, her gum receptacles aren’t filling as fast as she’d like.” She let out a sigh. “We’re moving on to plan B.”

“What’s plan…” I started to ask as Sam dropped to her knees and crawled under the table. “Oh no,” I said.

“Oh yes,” Sam said as she began to scrape the underside of the table.

I scooted back in my chair to give her more room. “That’s… disgusting.”

“You get used to it,” Sam said as a thick wad of gum plopped into the bucket. “The library was worse.”

I shook my head. “You’re a really, really good friend. I’m sure Amy’s germaphobia would be on overload if she had to do this herself.”

“Nah,” Sam said between scrapes. “I offered to do it all, but she wouldn’t hear it.”

“No way,” I said.

That’s when I heard an eruption of laughter. I turned to see another bucket-wielding figure enter the cafeteria. If I didn’t know it was Amy, I wouldn’t have recognized her. She was covered from head to toe in a plastic hazmat suit. She wore rubber gloves and a face shield like Sam, but Amy also had a cloth surgical mask stretched over her mouth and nose. Her eyes were the only part of her body that was visible, and they were behind a pair of safety goggles under the clear face shield. She looked as if she wasn’t taking any chances. For someone who wanted nothing more than to blend into the background, Amy was now the center of attention. But if I knew Amy, being completely covered gave her more confidence, even if it meant being more visible.

Amy gave me a nervous wave with her scraper before shuffling over to an unoccupied table. The laughter soon died down as she crawled underneath and got to work.

That was one of the interesting things about our school: seeing someone in protective gear wasn’t an unusual occurrence.

There was a little time left in lunch period, so I was about to offer to help, but I quickly changed my mind when I noticed one of the camera operators enter the cafeteria. My table was closest to the door, so the cameraman made a beeline for it. As casually as I could, I packed up my stuff, grabbed my tray, and moved toward the kitchen. Luckily, a kid with a lunch tray wasn’t as interesting as someone in safety gear working under a table. The operator crouched and steadied the camera, getting a shot of Sam at work.

I swung by my locker and then made it to robotics class just in time. Of course, Noah was a no-show again. I guessed Sam would be late since she had to get out of all