Chapter 12: Madison’s Invitation

Chapter 12: Madison’s Invitation"Dude, did Madison Torres just smile at you?" Tommy asked, following my gaze while simultaneously taking another bite of his cardiovascular disaster masquerading as lunch. "Apparently my public humiliation was somehow attractive to certain demographics." "That’s... actually kind of fucked up, but also good for you?" Tommy said through a mouthful of what I was pretty sure was just bread and regret. _ Me: So just to be clear – my strategy is to genuinely apologize to Lea in a few days without expecting anything in return and start building something real with Madison while being careful not to look like I’m just rebounding. And somehow navigate the social politics of dating someone so hot and connected to Jack Morrison’s crowd. ChatGPT: Exactly. Also remember – Madison witnessed your entire interaction with Lea. She knows you’re capable of being oblivious and self‑centered, but she also saw that you’re willing to put yourself out there and take risks. The fact that she’s still interested suggests she thinks the real you is worth getting to know. Key point: Don’t try to be someone you’re not. Your intelligence and honesty are actually attractive qualities – you just need to combine them with actual awareness of other people. And about that mission rating – a 78 % compatibility suggests you have genuine potential together, not just physical attraction. That’s actually a really good sign. Me: Any specific conversation starters for Madison? I can’t exactly use the same academic approach I tried with Lea. ChatGPT: Madison’s more social than Lea, so approach her in her element. Comment on something immediate and relevant – maybe the cafeteria drama or ask her opinion about something school‑related. She clearly likes directness based on how she approached you earlier. Try something like: "Thanks for the advice earlier about fresh starts. I’m still processing how badly I fucked that up." It acknowledges what happened without dwelling on it and gives her a chance to either offer more support or change the subject. That was actually not bad. Direct, honest, gave her control over where the conversation went. "Yo, Peter!" I looked up to see Connor Hayes approaching our table with his usual manic energy and the social awareness of a caffeinated golden retriever. The kid moved like he was perpetually late for something important, when in reality he was probably just rushing to film another TikTok of someone’s misery. "Dude, my video of you getting roasted by Lea already has like twenty thousand views! You’re famous for getting destroyed now!" "Fantastic. Really living the dream here, Connor." Because nothing said "peak existence" like becoming internet famous for getting verbally murdered by a girl who had been trying to get my attention for four years. "No, seriously, this is good for your brand! Controversial figures get more attention than boring people." Connor said this like he was some kind of social‑media guru instead of a guy whose greatest life achievement was accidentally going viral for falling down the stairs while filming himself. Tommy and I exchanged a look that clearly communicated our shared desire to throw Connor into the nearest trash can – which would probably improve both his content and his hygiene. "Connor," I said slowly, "I don’t have a brand. I’m a sixteen‑year‑old who’s terrible at talking to girls." "Not anymore, man! Now you’re the sixteen‑year‑old who’s terrible at talking to girls but has a huge dick and isn’t afraid to challenge the establishment!" Connor announced this like he was delivering a fucking TED talk about my personal‑growth journey. I put my head in my hands. "I hate my life." "Look on the bright side," Tommy said, stealing a fry from my tray because apparently his sandwich of sadness wasn’t enough carbohydrates for one meal. "At least Madison Torres is still looking at you like you’re interesting instead of like you’re a walking disaster." I glanced over again, and he was right. Madison was definitely paying attention to our table, and when she saw me looking, she raised her eyebrows in a come‑over‑here gesture. Me: Madison just gestured for me to come talk to her. This is happening right now. Any last‑minute advice? ChatGPT: Don’t overthink it. Be honest, be yourself, and remember – she already saw you at your worst and is still interested. That means she’s choosing to give you a chance despite your spectacular failure, not because of it. Go get her, Peter. And try not to accidentally insult anyone’s genitalia this time. I closed the chat and stood up, my heart doing that thing where it tried to escape through my throat. "Where are you going?" Tommy asked. "To either continue my streak of catastrophic social failures or actually talk to one of the hottest girls in school who might not hate me." "Good luck, bro. Try not to mention anyone’s dick size." "That’s surprisingly good advice." I took a deep breath and started walking toward Madison’s table, wondering if my system enhancement included any kind of conversation skills or if I was about to embarrass myself in front of an entirely new demographic. Time to find out.