Page 46 of Fragments
Hearing it however many times, I began to realize these girls were actually being pretty blunt, but in a nice way, as females tend to.
Believe it or not, when a girl says the wordfriendto you over and over, she’s not speaking in some sort of riddle for you to decode. Sheliterallymeans that she sees you only as a friend, and will never be attracted to you sexually.
It’s fine, though. I wasn’t Jessie’s type, and I’m okay with that.
Most of the girls I’m drawn to are like that… Out of my league. Notphysically, but they always seem to be interested in the jocks and the frat bros. They tell me I’mso smart,like it’s a bad thing, and really, I think it comes down to confidence. I’ve just never been good at making the moves necessary to attract the girls I like. My idea of flirting is to haveconversations, to share common interests and debate differences of opinion.
Basically, I should be looking for a hot bookworm or a cosplayer or something. Not Malibu Barbie.
Anyway, when I realized that none of the kids I knew in real life would ever get me the way people on the internet did, I just stayed in my lane. I made friends online, built up my social media relationships, and stopped caring about trying to fit into the mold of who I’d thought I needed to be. I’ve spent all my free time over the last few years perfecting LOIS, while simultaneously becoming a god of the internet.
Using my powers for evil, in true Lex Luthor fashion.
Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.I don’t hack into people’s banks or their Amazon accounts or anything like that. In fact, I feel stealing is beneath me.Give me a challenge, at least.
Origin story aside, the normally titillating Berkeley curriculum is taking a backseat in my mind at the moment. Because I can’t stop thinking about my friends. Myrealfriends… The ones I’ve never actually met.
I haven’t spoken to Leah in two months. None of us have. After she hung up on me that night, she ghosted. All of my texts have gone unread, no social media posts, no gaming… She hasn’t been online at all. Complete radio silence.
She’s disappeared on us before, but never for this long. And I can’t get that last conversation out of my head… How scared she sounded. Those men’s voices.
I’m really worried about her. I just want to know that she’s okay.
To top it all off, last week a news story broke involving my friend Cyrus.Cyclops180.
It’s been big drama, all over the internet. Apparently, his twin brother wound up in the hospital… Both of his parents are now in jail. There were rumors swirling about their stepfather having some kind of sexual relationship with Cy’s brother, but most people are discrediting it as bullshit, made up by their mother to pull focus from her crimes.
It’s hard to know what’s true and what isn’t when all online reporting is like one long game of telephone.
Real or not, the story is wild. Cy’s stepdad is a legend in the tech world, especially on the West Coast. Cyrus never had anything but great things to say about him… So I’m sure there’s no way he’d hurt Cy, or his twin brother, Colson.
But then, the video…
A couple of weeks ago, Cyrus messaged me, begging for my help to hack into his mom’s iCloud and delete some video. Which I did, because he’s my friend. And naturally, because I’m a trustworthy motherfucker, I didn’t watch it. But now that all this crazy shit has come to light, I can’t help but wonder what was on it…
Shaking my head, I focus on the screen of my laptop, and the research I’m supposed to be doing for class. I’ve been staring at the same page for ten minutes, lost in my thoughts. Between Cyrus and Leah, I’m distracted as shit. I can’t concentrate on anything, especially since every time I check Twitter, all I see are tweets about theSolana Beach twinsand their billionaire stepdad, Tauren Vance.
All of Cy’s social media accounts have been deactivated. His Twitch, his Discord, everything. It sucks. Not being able to check on the people I care about when they’re going through stuff makes me feel helpless.
It makes me feel like maybe we’re not really as close as I thought we were.
Class ends, and I pack up my stuff, heading home.TGIF, man.I just want to veg out in the garage, fuck around with my homegirl LOIS, and lose myself in some virtual reality.
It’s not my job to worry about what’s happening to other people. I’m sure they’re fine. They can take care of themselves.
I’m no superhero, after all.
At home, I kick off my shoes and settle into my chair. I power her up and crack my knuckles, watching my baby come to life. Lines of green run through the black, neon colors flashing with codeIcreated. I feel like Dr. Frankenstein, minus the shame surrounding my monster, of course. Honestly, I couldn’t be prouder of this thing.
With her, I’m unstoppable.
I mess around for a bit, sliding effortlessly between all my various workings; profile to profile, hopping, skipping and jumping from one account to another, like it’s a complex game of chess I’m playing against everyone else in the world. And I’m definitely winning.
My clicking and clacking is cut short, however, when I notice that Leah is online… The little green dot is telling me she’sactive.
Without a thought, I pull up a DM, writing out yet another message, similar to the others I’ve been tossing at her for weeks.
Me: Leah… what’s up?
