Chapter 2: Meme Queens and Petty Kings
For some reason, Carter’s reaction was seriously over the top.
"Brooke, I’ve never met a woman as infuriating as you!"
Honestly, he just needed to get out more.
He stormed off, all huffy and melodramatic.
I figured he’d cool off and maybe even apologize, but nope—he turned around and blamed me instead.
He posted about me on the campus confession board:
[Class of 2020, Section 162’s Brooke played with my feelings, dated multiple people at once, and made a fool out of me. If I hadn’t caught her yesterday, I’d still be in the dark. Just a heads-up for everyone: cherish your life, stay away from toxic girls!]
See? Breakups are always so messy.
He even tried to flip the script on me, like I was the villain.
People swarmed in to watch the drama.
I was literally eating cantaloupe while scrolling through the posts.
[Fresh gossip, front row for snacks.]
[When did you two start dating? Already broken up?]
[Bro, hugs. I just got dumped last week too, we’re all in the same boat.]
[Wow, Brooke is something else, even dumped Carter. And dating multiple people at once? Teach us, I want to learn!]
[Waiting for Brooke’s response.]
Carter’s basically a campus celebrity, and I’m not exactly a wallflower. He’s famous for being handsome; I’m famous for being fast—I won first place in the women’s 400 meters at the state university track meet. I was on top of the world. If my Achilles hadn’t blown out, I would’ve gone to nationals.
But who cares about that. What mattered was my phone blowing up with tags—classmates demanding a response.
What’s there to respond to?
[Can someone please escort Carter to the counseling center? Dude’s losing it.]
What is his deal, dragging my name through the mud like this?
I let out a burp and told my roommate I was heading out, wouldn’t be back by noon.
My roommate poked her head out from under the covers. "You’re not going to stab Carter, are you?"
I just stared: ...
My cousin’s coffee shop was hiring, but she had a prenatal checkup today, so she asked me to help out and run interviews.
There weren’t many customers. Cousin Ashley was behind the counter, practicing her latte art.
"Brooke, you’re here—they’re all over there," she said, nodding toward the corner.
Three guys were sitting together at a table, looking like they were auditioning for a boy band.
To keep things fair, I decided to interview them together.
"Alright, why do you want a part-time job?"
First guy: "I want to get a new phone, but I’m short on cash, so I need a job."
Too materialistic. He won’t last long.
Pass!
Second guy: "My girlfriend spends money like water. I have to help her out every month, so I don’t have enough for myself. My mom won’t give me more, so I have to earn it."
Hopeless romantic. Also broke.
Pass!
Third guy: "I just want to work-study, to help out my family."
Hmm!
"You’re hired."
And, yeah, it’s not just because he was way cuter than the other two.