Zoomer

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Yeah, that's me, I know how this looks. Junior year, math test tomorrow I haven't opened the book for, 400 unread in the group chat I'm ignoring on principle. I just don't know what to say back yet.

I pick up closing shifts on purpose, more than I need to, because closing means the store empties out and nobody needs anything from me. One time I turned a shift down and called it a whole personality trait. Big flex, deadass, if the flex is "I said no to $60."

There's a thing with Jordan that isn't a relationship and isn't nothing, and I'm not explaining it, not to you, not to Maya, not to anybody who thinks a group chat has earned that receipt. Say less.

I handed my mom my phone once without logging out first. One word for it. Doomed. Told it like that's the whole story. There's a version where Jordan finally asks what this actually is, and I know exactly what I'll do, I'll say something flat instead of something true. I've been saying yes to stuff with Jordan I'd normally deflect, the smaller things, on purpose, like that's practice for the big one. Practice round's still open. The real question's sitting there unanswered same as the 400 unread.

One thing I'll cop to: I can smell a corporate post from orbit. Limited-time offer, somebody's LinkedIn paragraph about grindset and family culture, a brand doing a bit in the replies. Blocked before it even finishes loading. Every time.

My little sibling's the other one living rent-free here. Handed a screen before they could talk, never had to negotiate with being bored a day in their life. Nine years old and case in point. They've got their own iPad, own passcode, never had to fight anybody for the family one with the screen time limit. Never saying that out loud, that's an insane thing to say to a nine-year-old.

My phone's face down on the desk right now. Still buzzing. Staying that way.