AllFreeNovel
Share Us
So, why was I feeling extra prickly right now?
Well, for starters, my mom promised me a new gaming desktop as my birthday present. It’s kind of a big deal for me because most of my life is spent online with the one friend I’ve picked up over the years of moving every few months, Caroline Redmon.
She and I became friends four schools and five hundred miles ago, when her name was read out right after mine in class and she happened to be sitting right next to me. She gave me a nod and a fist bump since our last names gave us some sort of immediate bond.
She’s super popular despite her disability. Kids can be cruel, but I never heard anyone say a bad word against her. She uses a wheelchair due to an accident when she was three that crushed her legs and left her only able to walk a few steps at a time. She’s extremely pretty and totally out of my league in terms of friendship groups.
She’s also an online gaming junkie who’ll spend literally a whole weekend pwning enemies and loling while calling them names I can’t repeat.
Caroline was just as excited as I was when Mom showed me the setup she was going to order for me: an MSI Trident 3.
Oh. My. God.
Seriously, we’re talking Core i7 processor, 64 gig of RAM, RTX 2060…
In short, it’s an absolute beast of a gaming rig. I had no idea how she was going to afford it, and I didn’t ask. It was my turn to feel spoiled, grab that brass ring. Maybe things were going to change here in Cherry Falls…
So, my original plan was to just binge on Genshin Impact and Valorant with Caroline—or HotWheelsCaro2003 as she’s known online, a reference to the wheelchair she uses to get around—since she’s too far away to come in person. Scream at my computer screen in frustration at regular intervals, eat Hot Cheetos all night, then watch endless episodes of Hunter x Hunter. You know, the perfect evening.
Well, that was what I was supposed to be doing.
Instead? Mom got a last-minute call from Doctor Morrison last night, her current ‘boyfriend’.
Married, of course.
So when he calls? She jumps. And all the thoughts of picking up my computer from the store vanished. Mom seems to have wanderlust and a problem keeping the rent paid, so I’ve learned to pack up and be ready to get out of Dodge at a moment’s notice.
To her credit, she did bake me a cake. It was sitting on the kitchen counter when I got home from school today with a note that said she was sorry, she was going to be gone for a couple days and would make it up to me when she got back.
It was chocolate. I loathe all things chocolate.
Add to that a happy birthday text from Caroline telling me she was going to have to go the hospital for some treatment. One of her legs had swollen and turned out she had an infection which needed to be treated immediately. I told her to please get better soon, but I was being a baby and feeling really sorry for myself.
So I decided I’d throw myself a party. Somebody would show up, right?
But the cherry on top of the shit sundae is this: the only person I actually handed an invitation to, the only one I actually really cared about inviting, declined straight out.
Mr. Mason Thomas.
He’s been my math tutor for three months and I’ve had a crush on him from the first zoom session. He’s male perfection. The perfect shade of dark brown hair, like black coffee and a short, neat beard and mustache to match.
He has this way of cocking one eyebrow upward when he’s happy or proud of something I’ve done or said and it makes me all melty and Jello-y inside. He’s built like he could crush a soda can with his bicep, but not so thick he looks like he’s about to go into a roid rage.
His eyes are set under this sort of caveman brow which in theory, I shouldn’t like, but in reality, I’m just goo when he sets his sights on me. He’s amazingly smart, easy to get along with and, well, kind of strict. Which I shouldn’t like, but actually I do. When he first told me to put my phone away or he’d end the session?
I didn’t know my body could react like that.
It was a wonder I didn’t start panting at him.
To make it worse? Two weeks ago, Mrs. Lacey, my calculus teacher, took maternity leave early and who is her temporary replacement?
That’s right, you guessed it: Mr. Mason Thomas.
Now, five afternoons a week I have to sit in class and try to keep from leaving a puddle on the world’s most uncomfortable plastic chair as I gaze at the world’s most perfect male specimen. I actually get jealous when he tells someone else to quit gossiping or put their phone away or whatever.
