The Enemy Hypothesis: A Brazos High Novella

on a date or something next weekend?
The air whooshes out of my lungs when I read that. What a jerk! What a completely stuck up, arrogant, annoying, horrible jerk. Even now, over the internet, he’s still trying to flirt with me and mess up my head. It’s not. Going. To. Happen.
Never.
My fingers fly across my phone’s keyboard.
Me: Seriously, dude? You really think I’m that stupid? You can’t flirt your way into winning this competition. You’re cute and all, but you’re not cuter than a brand new Jeep. I’m not backing down. I will win this.
I send it before I have a chance to read over my words and edit them. Once it’s sent, I look back at what I wrote and hold my breath. Ah, crap. I told him he was cute.
I get more messages on Instagram, so I back out of this chat with Mark. Three people have replied to my babysitting offer and happily accepted. One person, a sophomore girl named Jameela, replies: Girl, I appreciate that but my brothers are hellions. I’ll give you some kudos just for the offer, but I’d never wish my brothers onto anyone. Haha. Good luck! Hope you win!
I smile. Not everyone is a manipulative jerk. Some people are just nice. Sure enough, my points go up a few seconds later. Two other people tell me they’ll let me babysit and then they give me kudos as well.
Several minutes have gone by and I’ve almost forgotten about Mark, but then he replies again. I bite my lip and check his message.
Mark: I know you’ll win. I’d still like to go on that date though…
You know how people say their heart “stops” when something crazy happens? And they don’t really mean that it stops, stops. It’s just a metaphor obviously because a stopped heart would mean you’re dead.
Well, I’m pretty sure my heart stops.
I take a quick breath and press my hand to my chest, relieved to feel my heart pounding away. Guess I’m not dead after all.
Is he serious?
Or is this a joke?
Another message appears.
Mark: Sorry… this is lame. I should ask you in person, but in person all we do is bicker. Maybe when this is over and you have your shiny new car, we could go on a date?
I swallow.
This is a trick.
Or is it?
I’m not a mind reader. I don’t have some Ph.D. in body language or anything, but… I guess it’s just a gut feeling. Every time I’m around Mark, well, I feel something. Not just my stupid crush on him but… something coming from him as well. The way he smiles at me. The tone of his voice when we talk. It’s different. It’s… it’s almost as if he likes me too.
Maybe this isn’t a trick.
And if I let my guard down, I know deep down that I’m crushing on him, hard. Like super hard. He’s gorgeous and smart and he can get me free Italian food. What kind of girl would turn down limitless pasta from a shockingly cute guy?
I taste blood and realize I’ve been biting my lip. If he’s for real, then I definitely want to go on that date.
Me: I’m not falling for your lies
Mark: :( Not a lie
I don’t even know what to say to that. I back out of our messages and check my inbox. I have several new replies, and everyone besides Jameela has taken me up on my offer. Looks like Maria was right—high schoolers hate babysitting their younger siblings. I send a reply to everyone telling them I’m happy to help out and thanking them for the kudos. Earlier in the month, I tried doing nice things without making it obvious that I was fishing for kudos, but this late in the game, everyone knows the drill. And they’re happy to play along.
When I check the Un-bully app again, I’m a thousand points higher than Mark. A few minutes pass, and now I’m thirteen hundred points higher. With eleven hours left, there’s no way he’s going to win this.
That red Jeep will be mine. All mine!
I take a deep breath to calm my excitement. Nothing is over until it’s over, but I’m so ecstatic I can barely contain myself. And you know what?
Maybe I do like Mark. Maybe he likes me.
Maybe it’s time to take a chance on something good.
Me: Okay
Mark: Okay… as in you you’ll go out with me?
Me: Yep, but one condition.
Mark: And that is..?
Me: I’m driving.
Mark: You’ll look great in your new Jeep.
Luckily my bedroom door is closed because I’m grinning like a fool. I’m about to win a brand new car, and I have a date for next weekend with the guy I’ve been crushing on for weeks. Even with my parents gone and my sisters annoying me constantly, things are looking up.
I spend the next several hours replying to people on Instagram. I wish I hadn’t sent so many offers to babysit because now I’m juggling dozens of replies, and marking my calendar for free babysitting jobs. I’m three thousand points ahead of Mark now, so there’s really no point in continuing to accept all these appointments. But I don’t want to anger anyone and give them a reason to give me a demerit, so I suck it up and pencil everyone onto my calendar. At least I’ll have a pretty new car to drive to my babysitting gigs.
Abuela makes tamales for dinner and because of all the excitement, she agrees to let us eat in the living room while watching TV. We sit around enjoying the food, talking and laughing like one big family. I wish my parents were here to celebrate with us. After we eat way too many tamales and then have some tres leches for dessert, we watch movies until we pass out. Abuela heads to her room around eleven. Maria carries Pippa to bed and then she comes back and snuggles up with me on the couch.
“I’m really excited for you,” she says, resting her head on my