Free Still Point by Katie Kacvinsky

me,” he said. “Congratulations.”
    I looked down at the high school diploma he handed me. I received an honorary diploma for a perfect grade point average. The diploma was decorated with three horizontal stripes across the top: gold for highest grade standings, green for best test-score comparisons, and royal blue for highest college-placement exam grades. I looked at the three bright colors, my academic-achievement rainbow. Underneath was my name, Madeline Rose Freeman, and my digital school code number: DS1029MF. On the bottom of the certificate my father’s signature was emblazoned in gold writing, just like it was on all DS graduate diplomas. I ran my finger over my dad’s autograph. It didn’t even look like a name, just a scrawl.
    â€œYou printed it out for me?” I asked.
    â€œI thought you would prefer a hard copy, since you don’t really use your wall screens anymore.”
    I looked around my room and nodded. In the past few days I had “broadened” my bedroom horizons, just like I’d attempted to do in the DC. I used my canvas program to paint screens into a mural that stretched across my entire room. One wall was a beach scene, one a desert, one a forest, and one reminded me of the city skyline view from Justin’s apartment in L.A. The ceiling was a mixture of night and day skies, stars and sun, clouds and rain. Over the entire ceiling and walls was a trail of footprints, in different colors, stepping across every surface.
    â€œThere’s a virtual graduation ceremony next month,” he said, and my catatonic look told him I wasn’t remotely interested. “They have quarterly ceremonies, if you want to attend another time,” he added, as if timing were the problem.
    â€œThat’s okay.”
    â€œIt looks like you’ll have your choice of online colleges,” he said, and sat down on the edge of my bed. “Have you thought about where you want to enroll?”
    I blew a loud, sputtering breath out of my lips.
    â€œMaddie, this is a huge accomplishment. You have too much going for you to quit school. You can make an impact.”
    I turned my chair to face him. “Can I?” I asked him.
    He frowned at me. “You don’t want to continue?”
    â€œI want to go to school, but not DS. I’m not going back until it’s a face-to-face program.”
    His face hardened. “Well, that’s not an option right now.”
    â€œNot right now,” I pressed. “But what about next year? Maybe some classes could become available if certain ‘facilitators’ were open to the idea.” My dad stood up and headed to the door.
    â€œYou need to let this go,” he said. “There are some amazing online electives available. At least try them before you quit.” He turned to me. “Why are you so adamantly against this?”
    â€œBecause I want to be human,” I said, my voice rising. “Is that so much to ask for? I’m so tired of having to try to remind people to act human. It’s like reminding a river to flow. It should just be natural. But you’re making it so hard. You’re not giving people a chance.”
    â€œI don’t have time for a DS debate right now,” he said. “I have a plane to catch.” He walked out of my room, and I followed him down the stairs. I talked to his back.
    â€œI want my first college class to be face-to-face. And I want to study computer law. I want to make sure that no program ever gets so huge and corrupt that it takes over our culture. I want to make sure nothing like DS becomes a law again. I want to make
that
a law.”
    My dad turned to face me at the bottom of the stairs. My mom was standing in the foyer next to his luggage, ready to see him off. She stared between us, an ache in her eyes.
    â€œYou can’t start a new school program in less than a year,” my dad informed me. “DS took me six years to