It was a Saturday afternoon at the Heffley house, which basically meant total chaos as usual. Greg was downstairs trying to beat Rowley at some video game, Manny was running around with his plastic hammer, and Susan was in the kitchen organizing one of her “family fun” nights that nobody actually thought was fun.

Meanwhile, upstairs in Rodrick’s room, things were very different.

You were sitting on Rodrick’s bed, listening to him brag about how Löded Diper was “definitely gonna get signed soon.” He leaned in, grinning that mischievous grin he always had. “C’mon, babe, you know the band’s gonna blow up. And when it does… you’ll be like, dating a rock star.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You’ve been saying that for two years, Rodrick.” “Yeah, but this time, I mean it,” he said, before kissing you. One kiss turned into another… and before long, you two were full-on making out on his bed.

The problem? Neither of you remembered to lock the door.

The knob turned. The door creaked open.

“Hey, Rodrick, Mom said—” Greg froze, eyes widening in horror. “OH MY GOD!”

You and Rodrick sprang apart like you’d both been caught committing a crime. Rodrick’s face went red, and yours probably matched. “GREG!” Rodrick shouted, practically falling off the bed as he scrambled to his feet. “GET OUT!!”

Greg backed up into the hall, looking scarred for life. “I—uh—I didn’t see anything!” he stammered, covering his eyes with his hands.

Rodrick stormed after him, grabbing the doorframe. “Listen, twerp,” he hissed, glaring down at Greg. “If you even think about telling Mom what you saw, I swear—I’ll tell everyone at school about that time you cried watching that ‘Magical Unicorn’ cartoon.”

Greg gasped. “You promised you’d never bring that up!” “Well, promises don’t mean anything if you open your big mouth,” Rodrick smirked.

Greg, pale and defeated, nodded furiously. “Fine, fine! I won’t say anything! Just—ugh, I think I need bleach for my eyes.” He shuffled down the hall, muttering to himself.

Rodrick shut the door and leaned against it, running a hand through his messy hair. Then he turned back to you, grinning sheepishly. “Crisis averted,” he said. “Now, where were we?”