Chapter 4: Digital Dares and Dead Ends
Honestly, my life has gone full sitcom at this point. If I wrote this in my diary, nobody would believe it.
Ever since Noah transferred schools, he’s been bragging nonstop about cafeteria food. I brushed it off—until that sandwich. One bite and I was hooked, texting him to bring home more. That was the start of my downward spiral.
I tried everything to get Noah to smuggle food—bribes, threats, the works. In less than three days, he was my food mule. Sibling love, American style.
Each morning, I’d wait at the fence for my gourmet breakfast. Lunch, too. Dinner? Just water and dreams of fitting into last year’s jeans. It was a system, if you could call it that.
He’d only been feeding me for a month when I got caught. Figures—I was starting to feel invincible.
And the teacher thinks I’m bullying Noah? The idea made me laugh out loud—alone in my room, sounding like a maniac.
When Noah came home for the weekend, I told him: “Starting this week, you’re off cafeteria duty.”
He dropped his backpack and started dancing around the living room like he’d just won The Voice. “Thank God! Someone finally rescued me from this food-obsessed monster! Do you know what people say when I buy two lunches every day? Thank God, hallelujah!”
I threw a couch pillow at him and smacked him. “Go do your practice tests. If you don’t make top ten, I’ll skin you alive!”
That night, bored, I snooped on Derek Mason’s Facebook. Total snoozefest—no dog pics, no memes, just school board stuff. Clearly a work account.
I let out a sigh and flopped back on my bed, the glow of my phone screen painting my ceiling blue. Might as well message him.
[Good evening, Mr. Mason. Can I add your personal account? :) ]
He replied fast: [Sorry, not convenient. If you need anything, contact me here.]
Cold. Ouch.
Me: [But you’re really handsome. I want to see your posts.]
Cringe. Sent anyway. He ghosted me instantly.
I tried again: [Mr. Mason, do you have a girlfriend?]
Derek Mason: [That’s none of your business.]
Me: [But you really are super attractive.]
He read it. No reply. I was talking to myself. I laughed and went nuclear:
[If you don’t reply, I’ll put Noah back on cafeteria duty.]
That did it. Instant reply.
Derek Mason: [You’re an adult, why are you bullying a student? Why not get a job and support yourself?]
Wow, this guy really has a savior complex. I played along: [You’re right.]
Maybe he thought I was actually listening. He sent a barrage of inspirational messages:
[Hey, you don’t need a fancy diploma to be worth something. Seriously, just focus on what makes you happy. Don’t compare yourself to everyone else—it’s a waste of time.]
It read like a page from a self-help book. I almost expected a podcast recommendation.
But ‘good kid’ stuck out. I couldn’t help but smile, picturing him saying it with that serious face. I typed: [Good kid? Are you trying to parent-zone me?]
Derek Mason: [......]
That pause said it all.