Click to Subscribe - By L. M. Augustine Page 0,1
even go back to the chat, reread our conversations, and catch myself smiling at it.
Harper always makes me smile.
Nice, I type. Being hotter than a frozen potato is pretttty impressive. You deserve some sort of award.
I know, right?
Plus, it’s one hot frozen potato.
So hot it practically burnt the freaking kid’s hand, I bet.
Well, it’s no wonder with that super sexy new avatar of yours, I type, because I’m smiling just looking at it. Something about a pizza-eating-cow-biker is just so… her. I mean, I don’t know what she looks like or who she is, but somehow, I still feel like I know her, like we’re longtime friends and I don’t even realize it. And whoever she is, wherever she is, I can’t shake off this feeling that she is the one for me.
Yeah. I know. Falling in love with a girl over the internet. Welcome to my effed-up life. (My poor therapist.)
Hey, what can I say? she writes. My avatar brings all the boys to the yard.
I stifle a laugh. Oh my god. She is perfect.
Harper commented for the first time on my vlog almost four months ago, and for every week after that, she’s kept commenting. Back then, I only liked her platonically. I thought she was just a funny girl on the internet who I enjoyed talking to. Nothing more, nothing less. But slowly, as months passed, I realized I cared about her—like, for real. And at first, that scared the hell out of me.
I bet it’s the cow, I say. Major turn-on if you ask me.
I knoooow! So what’s up with you anyway?
Nothing. Just way too much homework.
Truth. We’re practically oppressed as a species.
We should make a club.
I think we already have. Exclusive. Only two people allowed. Just us. One hot potato and one… socially inept video blogger.
I hate you, I type.
No you don’t.
Oh, Sam Green, believe me, I do.
Harper calls me “Sam Green” because that’s my vlogging pseudonym, and I still haven’t had the guts to tell her my real name. I try to keep my vlog as separate as possible from my real life. My vlog is my happy place; my real life… isn’t.
Whatever, I type. I’m fabulous.
You sound like a total diva.
Probably because I am.
Oh yeah? What’s your most popular album and how come I’ve never heard of it?
My album is called “Love Letters To Myself” and you have never heard of it because you were raised poorly and have poor taste in music.
Creative title. And the album cover? Is it a picture of you tossing your hair in the wind?
Obviously. You doubt me?
Of course not.
Sitting on the porch, a slight breeze ruffles my blond hair, and several birds chirp overhead. I glance out at my tightly-packed neighborhood, which is lined with five small houses with even smaller yards per street, and catch myself smiling. When I talk to Harper, all I want is for her to just keep going, for me to keep talking to her, for her to write away the world for me. To make it just us, just me and her.
I’m not sure how one goes about falling in love with a girl over the internet, but I guess I did it pretty freaking easily. One second I thought she was funny and kind of cool and the next I was thinking so much more. I have no idea why I’m so sure about loving Harper, but I just… am. Sure, I could be overestimating this whole thing, but by the deep longing I feel for her every time I’m not back here, talking to her, and by the way I just wish she were closer and closer to me, I don’t think so.
Hey, Harper? I type after a while.
Your avatar is sure as hell bringing this boy to the yard.
When I first started my vlog, it was just another way to pass the time. Back then, I vlogged about high school relationships and also really whatever popped into my head, because let’s face it, I am the farthest thing from experienced in the field of relationships. I was bored and I needed a hobby, so I took a deep breath and started filming, thinking I’d just make a few videos and be done with it. But 135,789 subscribers later, it’s become a part of me. Vlogging is something I can’t not to do, and I never feel more at peace than when I’m talking in front of the camera, filming my next vlog. Some nights I stay