The Rumor Evolves (Against My Will)
By the time I reached my locker, I had been declared three different things.
A legend.
A menace.
And—somehow—a future meme template.
High school rumors don't walk. They sprint. With snacks.
My locker refused to open on the first try, which felt personal. I twisted the dial again, hands shaking, while my phone vibrated like it was trying to escape reality.
I didn't check it.
Checking it would make it real.
"ALEX CARTER!"
I flinched so hard I nearly headbutted the locker.
Mr. Henderson's voice echoed down the hallway. He stood outside the math classroom, arms crossed, coffee gone, disappointment fully caffeinated.
"First period," he said. "Now."
"I'm being summoned," I whispered to Jordan.
Jordan gave me a thumbs-up. "Try not to declare war on algebra."
I dragged my feet into the classroom, every step heavier than the last. The room buzzed with whispers. People stared like I was a museum exhibit titled Local Teen Loses Grip on Reality.
I slid into a seat near the back.
Two seconds later, a notification popped up on my phone.
VIDEO: "Kid Declares Death Over Math" – 1.2k views
I nearly dropped it.
One thousand. Two hundred. Views.
"This is fake," I muttered. "This is a simulation."
Mr. Henderson cleared his throat. Silence fell.
"Welcome back, class," he said. "Before we begin, I'd like to address something."
Every eye turned to me.
I tried to sink into my chair. It did not work.
"Alex," he continued, "care to explain your dramatic statement from earlier?"
My brain offered zero helpful suggestions.
"I, uh," I started, standing halfway before realizing that made things worse. I sat back down. "I just meant math is… challenging?"
A boy in the front snorted.
"Challenging enough to die over?" someone whispered.
Laughter rippled through the room.
Mr. Henderson raised a hand. "Enough. Alex, I assure you, no fatalities are required for this class."
"Good," I said automatically. "That's… good."
More laughter.
This was my life now.
When the bell finally rang, I bolted.
Unfortunately, chaos followed me like a loyal pet.
By second period, the rumor had evolved.
Originally, I'd said I'd rather die than go to math.
Now?
According to the hallway whispers:
I'd challenged Mr. Henderson to a duel
I'd failed math so badly last year I'd been banned
I'd screamed the sentence while standing on a desk
None of these things happened.
But facts were optional now.
I opened the school group chat.
@Sophie: he's kinda iconic
@Liam: bro said what we all think
@Unknown: imagine being that brave
@Jordan: THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND 😤
I buried my face in my hands.
"I don't want to be iconic," I groaned. "I want to be background noise."
Jordan grinned. "Too late. You're a symbol."
"A symbol of what?"
"Academic rebellion."
I stared at them. "I tripped into this."
"That's how the best legends start."
Third period was English, which should have been safe.
It was not safe.
Ms. Patel smiled at me as I walked in. "Alex, right?"
I nodded cautiously.
"I heard you had a… strong reaction to math this morning."
The class laughed.
I considered transferring schools. Countries. Planets.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. "I'm very passionate."
She chuckled. "Well, perhaps you'll enjoy English more. Try not to declare war on grammar."
The class lost it.
By lunchtime, people were quoting me.
I walked past a group of freshmen chanting, "RATHER DIE! RATHER DIE!"
I ducked into the cafeteria, heart racing.
This had gone too far.
I spotted an empty table and collapsed into a seat, staring at my tray like it held answers.
That's when someone sat across from me.
I looked up.
Maya Reynolds.
Again.
"Mind if I sit?" she asked.
I swallowed. "This table is cursed."
She smiled. "Figures."
She took a bite of her fries. "So. Math."
I groaned. "Please don't."
She laughed. Actually laughed. "Relax. It's kind of impressive."
"What is?"
"You said what everyone thinks. Out loud. With confidence."
"It was not confidence," I said. "It was panic."
"Still counts."
My phone buzzed again.
Another message.
Another video share.
Maya glanced at the screen. "Wow. You really are accidentally famous."
I stared at my phone, then at her.
That phrase stuck.
Accidentally famous.
I didn't know how to fix this.
I didn't know how to stop it.
And somehow—
This was only day one.