I'm sitting with my notebook open on my lap and my pencil tapping on my lip when Lucas barges into my bedroom screaming, "I got my strand of hair back!"

He leaves the door wide open as he rushes to sit beside me on my large beanbag.

"Well, strands," he says after he catches his breath. "I guess they got more than one."

"Hello to you too, weirdo," I reply curtly.

"What are you doing?" he asks, gesturing to my notebook.

I pull it away from his grabby hands and hold it to my chest. "Nothing," I say.

"You sure? Because it looks like—"

"I think I would know if I was doing something," I return.

"Okay, let's start over."

"Why?"

"Hey! How are you doing?"

I look at him curiously until something in my mind clicks. "Well, I'm doing just fine." I pause, giving him a lazy look before finishing, "I lied. I'm dying inside."

"You are?"

He suddenly looks genuinely worried, and he's about to hug me when I push him away and say, "No, you dummy, it's a vine. I thought you were some sort of meme king."

"I am," he replies, letting his arms fall down beside him.

"It seems as though I am more diverse in the knowledge of memes. You gotta up your game, pretty boy."

"I am diverse!" he insists, rising to his feet to defend himself. "I just don't learn the depressing ones."

Ｍｅｍｅｓ

A𝐧 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞.

Ｍｅｍｅｓ

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

"Then I challenge you to a meme off."

"A meme off?"

"You know, like a—"

"Friendly competition? Between friends?"

I blink a few times before finally nodding.

The way he said 'friends' had me a bit confused. Didn't he want to be friends? So then why did he seem so disappointed when I agreed?

"Stop!" I say suddenly.

His eyes finally flash to mine. "What? Stop what?" Then he looks around curiously.

"I could've dropped my croissant."

And the competition has begun.

"Well hello Mr. Kitty," Lucas says in reply.

I adjust into a competitive stance and shoot back, "Welcome to T-T-T-T-T-T-Target!"

"The cheese of truth."

"Do you know that Jesus loves you?"

"JESÚS!" Lucas screams in my ear.

"WHAT?" I scream back.

"Do you love me, cousin?"

"No," I return. "I hate you."

He glares, and I glare back. I break the staring battle to say calmly, "A mug shot? I don't even drink coffee."

"No! I love that one!" Lucas exclaims in devastation, falling to his knees.

"Well, too bad."

"GIVE ME MORE PUSH-UPS," Lucas yells.

I scream and fall back.

"NOW GIVE ME SOME JUMPING JACKS."

"Now cha cha real smooth," I finish with a grin.

I rise to my feet so we can both do the dance together. Then I suddenly let my arm flop to my side and say, "Oh, no, not this again." I proceed to throw my arm onto his head as though I'm trying to revive my arm.

"What are you doing!?" the boy screams as he ducks and covers his head.

"It's how to properly wake up one's arm."

"That's a vine?"

"Yep."

He thinks for a minute before saying,

"Borsht,"

"What?"

"Borsht."

"That's not a vine or a meme."

"It is now."

"What? You can't do that." I fold my arms and glare with narrowed eyes.

So now he's making up rules?

"Memes are made up. Therefore, I can make a meme right now."

I raise an eyebrow and relax my arms. "Well, fine. Pickles."

"Bananas."

"Your face."

"Your face."

"A dat."

"Benjamin Franklin's genius essay."

I wrinkle my nose. "Dogs walking on Pluto."

"Me."

"You?"

"Yes, me. I'm a meme too."

"Then I am too," I retort.

Our staring battle continues for a few minutes before Lucas says, "Let's go find Justin to settle this once and for all."

I scoff annoyedly, folding my arms again and leaning forward to reply, "He doesn't have any logic. Plus, he would choose you because you're his best friend."

"I wouldn't bet on it."

"How are we even supposed to find him?"

Lucas grins and pulls out his phone. "With this."

"It's a metal box," I deadpan.

"Not just any metal box. A magical metal box. You see, there's a mystical way to actually download something called an app—"

"I know what a phone is, Sir Brainless. But how is it going to help us find Justin?"

Lucas just continues smiling.

———————

"I'm not sure if I should be in awe or completely terrified," I say as we stare at our school where apparently Justin currently resides.

"It's just a cool app. It's not dangerous or anything," Lucas replies, walking in front of me and up the school stairs.

I don't reply as I follow behind. We walk down the hallway until we hear soft typing noises coming from a room a few doors down. We follow our ears and find ourselves coming up to the large door leading to the library. Lucas holds the door for me, and I step inside.

And what I see, shocks me.

Justin—along with some other kids—is sitting at a desk typing furiously on a computer with an intense but content look on his face.

In the few weeks I've known him, I have never seen him look so dedicated to anything. Other than food, that is.

"What are you doing, Justin?" I ask, coming up to stand in front of him.

His head jerks up, and he stares at me with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?" he hisses.

"We wanted you to deem the King—or Queen—of all memes," Lucas jumps in, coming up beside me. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" the redhead exclaims, standing up and slamming his hands on the desk. This earns him a room full of shushes.

"Are you in detention or something?" Lucas whispers.

"No," the boy murmurs, turning away from us.

"Then why are you in the library? It doesn't really seem like your type of hang-out place," I point out.

"How did you find me?" Justin continues with shifty eyes.

"Are you on the run from the law or something, dude?" Lucas questions.

Justin looks down as though his shoes are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaim. "What happened? What did you do? Who knows about it?"

"Nothing, nothing, and no one. Except for everyone here."

"If you did nothing, then how does no one except everyone here know about it?"

"They all know that I did nothing," the boy replies, looking away from my suspicious face.

"What are you typing then?" I ask.

"Extra credit homework."

Okay, now I know he's lying.

I grab his shirt and push him against a shelf, "Who are you?" I seethe.

"JUSTIN THYME AND I'M IN THE SEVENTH GRADE," the boy answers with a terrified look in his eye.

"WRONG. YOU'RE IN ELEVENTH," Lucas replies. "I WOULD KNOW, I'M IN IT TOO AND IT STINKS."

"I AM?"

"We didn't ask for his grade," I cut in annoyedly.

"We didn't?" Lucas murmurs, his eyes trailing away from Justin to look at me.

I shake my head and release Justin, letting his feet thump to the floor.

"Don't you trust us, Justin?" I ask, looking up through my lashes and giving my best puppy dog eyes.

I'm really getting curious now. My eyes glance over at his computer, but the screen saver is on, flashing a cat dancing across the dark screen.

Justin sighs and sinks to the floor. "Promise me you won't laugh?"

What could possibly be so embarrassing?

But Lucas and I agree, and Justin looks up at us through the bars of his fingers.

"I'm borrowing a computer from the library so I can...finish the novel I'm writing," he finally murmurs.