Texting Anonymous

The next morning, I wake up to my phone buzzing on my nightstand. I groggily reach for it, rubbing my eyes as I unlock the screen.

Anonymous: Good morning.

I blink at the message, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself.

Me: Morning.

I hesitate for a second before adding.

Me: You up early, or did you just not sleep?

I set my phone down and stretch, letting out a quiet groan as I force myself out of bed. The second my feet hit the floor, my phone vibrates again.

Anonymous: Bit of both lol. You sleep okay?

I yawn, rubbing the back of my neck before typing.

Me: Yeah, I guess. You?

As I wait for a reply, I grab some clothes and throw them on before heading downstairs. The smell of breakfast fills the air—eggs, toast, something that smells like bacon. Mom's already in the kitchen, flipping something on the stove, and Dad's sitting at the table, scrolling through his phone.

"Morning, Stan," Mom says over her shoulder.

"Morning," I mumble, sliding into a chair.

I pick up my phone again, seeing a new message.

Anonymous: Eh, could've been better. But waking up to you texting me makes up for it.

I roll my eyes, but the smile is still there.

I glance over at the couch and see Shelly sitting with one of her friends, their laptops open, probably studying for some college shit. She looks up when she notices me.

"That was some fight," she says, smirking.

I furrow my brows. "You saw it?"

Shelly nods. "Yeah, it's all over Instagram."

I grab my phone and open the app, scrolling through my feed. Sure enough, there it is; Cartman's stupid little confession page with a full video of me beating the shit out of Butters.

My blood boils. Of course, he fucking posted it. I immediately call him.

As soon as he picks up, I say, "Dude, why the fuck did you post that?"

Cartman laughs. "It's good content, dude. Plus, if you're gay, at least you don't look like some wimpy gay. People will be like, 'Omg, he's not like the others!'"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," he says. "You should be thanking me. Your reputation's actually going up."

I groan. "You're such a dick."

Shelly snorts from the couch. "You really expected him not to post it?"

I ignore her and hang up, shaking my head. I swear, I'm gonna kill Cartman one of these days.

As I shove a spoonful of eggs into my mouth, my phone buzzes again. I glance down, trying to hide my smile. It's from the anonymous person.

Anonymous: I think I'm falling in love with you.

My heart skips a beat.

What the hell do I even say to that? My fingers hover over the screen, unsure of what to type back.

Before I can come up with anything, I hear my mom's voice from across the room. "Who are you texting, Stan?"

I freeze for a second, looking up at her. My face feels like it's on fire. I quickly glance at the message again, my stomach doing flips. "Uh... nobody," I mumble, trying to act casual, but it's obvious I'm not fooling anyone.