Meetings on CyberSpace

The day had gone by like any other - sluggishly slow. At school I was met by the usual looks of disgust and hate as I walked through the halls. It was only rarely I got the appreciative glances from some cheerleaders who I found revolting as they behave like toerags.

So sitting myself down in front of my desk and switching my laptop on, I found myself staring at my profile picture on Messenger. It was me all right - evident black hair, lean body and gray eyes. But the reason for snapping it was the lie behind it all.

I logged onto my messenger and because of my poor quality modem connection, I knew it would take a longer time for it to sign in completely. Meanwhile, I freshened myself up, changed into jeans and a t-shirt and took out my remaining homework for the day. When my eyes flickered to the monitor, I noted with interest the chat pop-up window that appeared on it.

You have recieved offline messages from Poppy Brant.

Poppy Brant: Cayden, how are you? WHERE are you? I'm bored!

With a smirk, I quickly sat myself down and typed a reply hoping to get one back.

Cayden Rachet: So now I'm your entertainer?

Within seconds, another line of text popped up and I could feel myself getting excited.

Poppy Brant: Why can't you be?

This was more fun than I thought.

Cayden Rachet: Alright, alright, I give. Shall I start with: how was your day?

Poppy Brant: That's grandma talk. Let's get real.

More real than this? I'm ready.

The End

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