Chapter 1"Hey internet, it''s me, Simon. Simon Rosen. Welcome to my first VideoKids post."I stare into the camera, but my smile quickly fades as a familiar sound filters down the hall."You never help around here!" Mom shouts from her bedroom."How would you know what I do? You''re never home!" Dad screams back.I leap off my chair and shut my bedroom door. Nobody at school needs to hear that.

I plop back into my seat. I''m at my desk on my computer recording my first livestreamingvideo for my Grade 7 technology project. These videos are a school assignment, but we''re supposed to log on outside of class hours to create what our teacher calls "engagingcontent"--basically, videos where people share things that other kids want to watch. The site is kind of cool, I guess, and if you happen to be online while someone is creating avideo, you can watch live. Viewers can post comments and the videos become interactive. Otherwise, you can watch later, kind of like a reality TV show. Not that I need anymore reality TV in my life--my parents'' constant fighting is plenty of drama for me. But never mind them.

The point of the project is to figure out how to get the most views andLikes. I''m desperately hoping everyone is still asleep and that nobody will watch my first video in real time. With any luck, my video will be buried underneath all the other content kids in my class are likely to post today. I''m not one of those kids who likes the spotlight. I''ve never dreamed about being a YouTube celebrity who becomes famous for opening toys or posting embarrassing videos. I clear my throat and continue."It''s Saturday morning, September 15, and this is where I spend most of my time." I push my chair to the side and sweep my arm in an arc to show viewers what my room looks like.

Mostly it''s a mess. There''s dirty laundry on the floor, my bed is unmade, and old Star Wars posters are peeling off the wall. Ah, well.It''s too late to worry about that now. I turn back to my computer, unsure of what to say."I like YouTube--I mean, who doesn''t--but VideoKids is school-approved because only our class has special access to our posts. On YouTube the whole world can watch, but I, er, guess you already know how YouTube works."I realize I''m rambling a bit, and I scratch my nose--a dumb, annoying habit.

Then I remember I''m streaming live.My face heats up like I''m being microwaved."This is a lot more pressure than I thought it would be," I mumble.The assignment is supposed to be fun, but I can already tell it''s going to be torture. The thing is, we don''t even get to edit our videos before they go live--we record it, and up it goes online for our class to see. This is supposed to teach us how to be organized. Our teacher, Mr. Sayo, says he''s preparing us for the future and that this assignment will give us real-life experience about how to use social media responsibly.

Honestly, I think creating our own livestreaming social media channel is a stupid assignment. How am I supposed to create "engaging content" when I have no clue what other kids will want to watch? I was sure I''d be struck with a genius idea when I was on camera, but maybe I should have been more prepared.I scratch my nose again and clear my throat. I figure I may as well be honest."Guys, I really need an A in this class. Straight As all year, actually. Thanks to my high-ranking score in an epic game called Rage of War, I qualified for the Canadian Video Game Championships. They''re being held in Vancouver this summer, and my parents agreed to take me if I get all As.

"Now that I''m talking about video games, I''m getting so excited I nearly slide off the edge of my chair. I wriggle back into my seat and keep talking."The city''s main sports stadium is converted into this amazing battle arena where you can compete against the best players from across the country for a total of $25 million in prizes. I''m only twelve, so I don''t expect to win--at least not the grand prize--but one day I will. Last year''swinner won $6 million! When I''m older, I''m going to play video games for a living."Suddenly, I''m distracted by the thump of feet stomping down the stairs. The front door creaks open, then slams shut, rattling the light fixture in my room. I flinch at the bang.

My golden retriever, Meg, barks. I know what that slammed door means: Mom has stormed off after another fight with Dad. Mom is an emergency room doctor, so she''ll probably camp out at the hospital. My dad is a social worker, so he''ll shut the door to his home office, as usual.While I definitely want to win the grand prize at the Canadian Video Game Championships, there''s something I want more: to get my parents to Vancouver so they can fall in love again. That''s where they were living when they met. They used to tell me about how "romantic" it was, with mountains and fancy hotels and stuff. My parents have been fighting so much lately that I think--I hope--a vacation to Vancouver might spark old memories.

Maybe they''ll holdhands like they used to, when I was little. Or share a bed again. Or even kiss. Gross as that is, it''s the sort of thing parents do when they''re happily married.The livestream camera icon flashes on my screen and I realize I''m still filming. Great. I''ve been staring at my legs thinking about my parents. It probably looks like I have abad internet connection.

Ping! Something hits my window. I look out to see the Mendelson twins, Jeffrey and Owen, throwing pebbles at the glass. I get up and open my window just a crack."Uh, excuse me!" I stammer. "That''s dangerous!"They snicker and toss another pebble my way. I shut the window, then pull the cord on the blinds. The shades come slapping down."Just ignore them," I mutter to myself as I sit back down in my chair.

Still, I can''t help but feel rattled. Those boys are such jerks! I shake the thought of them from my head. I''ve got to get back to my live video. I wave to the camera. Why did I wave? That probably looked dorky. I scratch under my nose--even dorkier.Sighing, I look down at the tip sheet Mr. Sayo handed out to help us get started.

I scan the page for direction, but the white space is mostly filled with doodles: a stick man (me), a stick girl (Jocelyn), a few hearts. My heart thumps in my chest as I slam my hand down over the paper. I tug at the collar of my grey t-shirt. I scratch my nose. I breathe in and out until my heart rate steadies. I remind myself why I have to keep going: I need to get a good grade. I need to getmy parents to Vancouver. I need to keep my family together.

I adjust the brim of my favourite baseball cap--it has the Play Station 4 logo on it--and squint at my page. Finally, I''m ready."Er, so, as I''ve already said, I play video games. I''ve taught my dog, Meg, a few cool tricks. Even though I''m severely lactose intolerant, I can eat five hot Pizza Pockets in under three minutes. I guess eating five frozen ones would be more impressive, even if cheese didn''t make me sick." I chuckle, then continue. "I live in a house with myparents .

"My voice trails off. What else could I say that might be interesting? I tap my chin and roll my eyes toward the ceiling in thought. That my shoes are a size ten, but that I''m still waiting for the rest of my body to catch up to my feet?I shake my head no. That I do push-ups and sit-ups in my room at night, but I''m still so scrawny the Mendelson twins call me Rosie? I shake my head again. That would be TMI--too much information.Just then, Meg prances into my room. She plops down at my feet with a thud. Meg''s busy chewing something (surprise, surprise!), so I ignore her.

I lift my hand off the page and take another quick peek at Mr. Sayo''s tip sheet. Ah!Who, what, when, where and why--these are the things Ishould be thinking about while I livestream. I look up from the tip sheet and address the camera."I''m going to be shooting a series of live videos for my technology assignment, just like everyone else." I offer what I hope is a winning smile. But now that I''m looking at an enlarged image of myself on screen, I''m not so sure I have a winning anything. I see a kid with braces, patches of raw pink skin under my nose where I can''t stop scratching, and curly orange hair.

How did I end up with hair this colour? My mom''s hair is straight and brown and my dad doesn''t have any. I readjust the cap that''s covering my mop. I scratch under my nose again, then mentally scold myself. (Stop scratching, Simon!) How am I going to get through this video?Meg growls at my feet."What have you got there, girl?" I nudge her with my foot. She growls again. "What are you chewing?"I reach down to grab the pink fabric in her mouth, but she won''t give it up. I tug harder, yanking the material from side to side to loosen it from her grip.

She''s got a good hold on it. I get down on my knees and wrestle her to the ground.My hat falls off and Meg lunges for it. I lose my balance and land with an oof! on my back, holding up the piece of fabric in the air. "Meg! Give me back my hat!"She dashes out the door. I plop back down on my swivel chair. What the heck am I holding? I shake out the pink material. It''s very stretchy.

I pinch a corner and hold it up . and . oh no!I hit the blinking camera icon to stop recording, but it''s too late. Everyone has already seen Mom''s underwear.There is no way I''ll get an A for that!Bing! An alert from my computer. I stare at my screen.Oh great! Someone from my class has watched my video, and they''re commenting in real time. The blood pulses in my ears as I''m gripped with panic.

Everyone will hate my video. They''re going to think I''m a nerd. What if they think this underwear is mine? I scratch my nose, then place a shaky finger on my computer trackpad to read the comment.Nice panties, Rosie, writes Jeffrey.Standing up, I peek out my blinds. Damn it! Jeffrey and Owen are on my lawn, typing on their phones and howling with laughter. I get back to my c.