In shades of erasable blue was the drawing Tyler and I had drawn Sunday night. Big and Bold with a bit added between our drawings. Tyler had obviously drawn the ‘BB.com’ logo while the bolded ‘Dare’ was in another person’s hand. My hand. Everyone one else stared at it aghast and amazed with smiles. I looked at Tyler, terrified. He had his phone out and was recording everything. I looked back at the board, which hadn’t been erased yet.
BB.com wants you to Dare
I looked back at Tyler, who smiled at me briefly. “Thank you.” He said to the teacher. He stopped the recording. “I needed to see what everyone’s reaction to the new post. They will be so happy!” He tapped on his phone and then put it away. “Thank you everyone!” He said to the class.” BB thanks you, they needed to see this.”
They were still astonished by the drawing, it looked so artsy on the board. I could still see where I drew and where Tyler drew from. He sat back down. People instantly crowded the table and for the rest of the period Tyler sat there answering questions. No one would believe Tyler when he talked about the mysterious blogger. I sat beside him ignored by everyone. At the end of class, all those that had surrounded us, completely disappeared at the notice of the bell. The teacher even left. I sighed and started to clean up my stuff. Tyler grabbed across from me to the notebook and dropped it in my bag. I looked up at him.
“Why did you do that?”
Tyler shrugged. “BB needs to see what people thought of the blog post. The blog post they were afraid to write in the first place.”
“I didn’t want to.” I corrected lowly as I stared at the notebook resting in my bag. I looked at Tyler.
“The article read otherwise Addison.” He glided out of the room without a glance back at me.
My book bag was heavy somehow by one notebook. The whole way home my mind was racing. Who was BigBrotherBlogger? Who was he supposed to be? Did I have the skill to take the blog higher. I would like to think so, Tyler’s amazement at the certificates hanging beside the stairs seemed to say so. The glaring fact was that I had stop writing since the middle of seventh grade after a whole incident with Evan. The embarrassment still burned in my cheeks when I thought about it. The stares, the laughter behind my back, I didn’t care what people thought of me but I didn’t want them to be gawking at me. It was better to be forgotten than remembered as a joke. Worse yet a freak.
That was what pulled myself to the blog when I first entered the large glass doors of North Chester. The blog had this pull, this hypnotic feeling of being together in the school while also not really knowing anyone. The idea ran through my head.
BigBrotherBlogger. The news site and gossip channel.
BigBrotherBlogger. The place where people stand together- apart from each other.
I pulled the notebook out from my bag. As soon as it was in my hands, something sparked inside me. It didn’t matter about who was writing. People were going there for the posts – the writing- nothing else mattered. Not the design of the site, the style of the posts, the fronts of the letters, nothing could come close to what was really at hand. The magic that could be an internet secret. Tyler hadn’t told me what he called me, but quickly opening to the site when I got home, I saw what was typed at the bottom of the post. BigBrotherBlogger himself. My stomach lurched, but somehow in a good way. I scrolled down through the comments. There were still some that were complaining for the bio post, but most were debating the game. Rumors flew about saying that the goalie’s bloody nose was planned by North Chester. Others were talking about the players and listing them in a top ten comment. It was fun to read through them. A fuzzy feeling came to me when I read over a comment, asking the premier question. Who was I? More so, who was BigBrotherBlogger? The adrenaline rushed through my veins as I thought for an answer. For them, for me. I didn’t want to mess it all up. I usual did.
“Still, you can’t just brush it off like a coincidence.” For Tyler, I couldn’t mess it up.