Chapter 7: Fight Like a Crush Is Watching
There's one thing worse than getting roasted by your entire school…
Getting roasted by your crush, in front of your entire school.
What started as a "friendly challenge" quickly spiraled into the most high-stakes digital duel of my teenage life. Why? Because Sarah—yes, the Sarah—sent me this message out of nowhere:
> Sarah: $10 says I beat you in under 60 seconds.
Me: Make it $15 and prepare to cry.
I stared at her message like it had just insulted my ancestors.
Javier, self-proclaimed chaos consultant, leaned over my shoulder before I could hide the screen.
"YO! Is that Sarah?! Did she challenge you to a battle?"
I shoved him away like he was leaking top-secret nuclear codes. "Dude. Privacy."
"She bet real money?" he asked, eyes wide. "You gonna let her win or go full Mortal Kombat?"
I paused. If I won, I'd look like a try-hard. If I lost, I'd look weak. And if I let her win on purpose?
Well, that was its own category of embarrassing.
"I'm not letting her win," I muttered. And the words felt like a countdown to disaster.
---
Within minutes, the challenge went viral.
> Kwame: $2 on Sarah. She's got better reflexes.
Javier: $3 on Manuel. My guy coded the game.
Zoey (traitor): $1 on Sarah. No offense.
Phones were out. Bets were flying. Someone was collecting odds like they were running an underground casino. Even teachers were "casually glancing" at student screens like they were checking weather updates… during a thunderstorm.
The fight was set for 12:15 PM sharp—right in the middle of lunch break.
We found an open space by the lockers. It was instantly flooded with students forming a circle like we were about to summon spirits. The noise, the hype, the tension—it was all enough to make me wish for a power outage or meteor strike.
But nope.
Just me. Sarah. And hundreds of hungry eyes.
---
I opened the app.
Our avatars loaded:
Sarah's? A rollerblading warrior queen in chrome armor, wielding a glitter staff and moving like she had a personal wind tunnel.
Mine? A half-asleep tech intern with a cracked visor, mismatched shoes, and knee pads that screamed "I'm not built for this."
I sighed. "Classic."
Then came the ping.
> ChatGPT: Ready for battle?
Me: I'm sweating through my shirt.
ChatGPT: That's normal. Try this combo: Slide + Jab + Block + Spin Kick.
Me: You made that up.
ChatGPT: Would it help if I said NASA tested it?
---
3… 2… 1… FIGHT.
She didn't hesitate.
Sarah came flying at me like a sugar-fueled comet, glitter staff swinging with zero mercy. First hit? Clean. My avatar staggered.
15% of my health—gone.
I panicked. Tried to block. Tried to strike back.
Missed. Again.
She spun, flipped, and cracked me over the head with her pink flaming frying pan—her signature weapon. The crowd went feral.
"OOOOHHHHH!!"
"BRO GOT FRIED!"
Even the janitor stopped sweeping and watched.
I regrouped and launched the mystery combo: Slide → Jab → Block → Spin Kick.
It actually landed.
Cheers erupted.
Then came Zoey—livestreaming and commentating like she was ESPN.
"And Manuel's still breathing, folks! Look at him fight for his academic dignity!"
Sarah came back harder. She was relentless—dodging, ducking, spinning like a glittery tornado. Our health bars were dropping like Wi-Fi during a storm.
---
Final 10 seconds.
We were tied.
The energy in the hallway hit Super Bowl levels.
Students were holding their breath. Some kid was praying. Another tried to film from the ceiling tiles. Javier had already started a victory chant—unclear for whom.
Sarah charged.
I ducked.
Slid behind her avatar and hit the exact made-up combo from earlier:
Slide → Jab → Block → Spin Kick.
It landed.
Her health dropped to critical.
5 seconds left.
She dashed again. One last chance.
I hit my finisher:
Hammer Drop + Shove + Victory Pose.
KO.
---
The hallway exploded.
Phones went flying.
A freshman screamed like Ghana had won the World Cup.
Javier ran laps around the hallway, shirt over his head like a footballer celebrating a hat trick.
Even the headmaster opened his office door, blinked, and immediately closed it like he walked into the Hunger Games.
> Kwame: "NO WAY."
Javier: "THE KING HAS RISEN!"
Zoey: "Okay… I didn't think you had it in you."
Random Kid: "This man's a legend."
And Sarah?
She just smiled.
Cool. Calm. Competitive.
> Sarah: GG. That was wild.
Me: GG. Rematch sometime?
Sarah: Bet.
No memes.
No drones crashing into windows.
No wigs stolen mid-flight.
Just a clean win.
A digital duel.
And—for once—no public humiliation.
---
That night, I collapsed on my bed like I had just run a marathon through a video game boss level… on hard mode.
My phone buzzed.
> ChatGPT: Feeling like a champion yet?
Me: More like an emotionally unstable champion.
ChatGPT: Perfect. Ready for your next hustle?
Me: Hit me.
Because if there's one thing I learned from fighting my crush in front of half the school, it's this:
Crushes are confusing.
Pride is expensive.
And hustle?
Hustle is undefeated.