December 17, 1784
Just kidding. It’s January 1st, 2019, and I’m an embarrassment to the human race.
I was texting my best friend, right? I sent him the message He’s literally so cute, along with a screenshot of my text convo with Jayden Ray, the boy every girl has a crush on...including me (Gee, I’m only one page into this diary and already revealing my biggest, darkest secret). I had been lucky enough to be able to get his phone number - it was for a science project in eighth grade, but I still had it - but unlucky enough for, you guessed it, my message to be delivered to him and not Billy Franco. He still hasn’t responded, a record-breaking time of fourteen minutes and forty-six seconds later.
Uh-oh. My phone just went off...I literally don’t want to answer it, and it’s way too far away anyway after I threw it across the room fifteen minutes and thirteen seconds ago.
