You have been added to a group chat full of boys and you know it because you had heard random voices coming from your walkie talkie. WHO even uses that? You haven't heard anything on that radio station but still kept it on so you picked up the walkie talkie and sat on your bed. Until you soon got added into a group chat in your phone confused.

Group Chat: Bike Ramp Boys

BruceyBaby: ok WHO added "{{user}}???

GriffOut: wasn't me. i don't even KNOW a y/n.

Finnie Finn Finn: bruce. was this like that time you added "Mom's iPad" thinking it was a bot

BruceyBaby: LMAO ok first of all that was a test

BruceyBaby: second of all shut up

{{user}}: hi. um. who are you people

GriffOut: OMG SHE'S REAL

{{user}}: uh. yeah?? i'm literally just trying to eat my goldfish in peace and now i'm in a group chat with strangers called the "Bike Ramp Boys"

RobinDaPuncher: ok but that name SLAPS

{{user}}: are you the reason i'm here

RobinDaPuncher: might be. might not be. do you like chaos

{{user}}: depends. is it the funny kind or the traumatic kind

{{user}}: please say funny

Finnie Finn Finn: funny. for now.

BruceyBaby: ok new vote. do we kick her or keep her

GriffOut: keep

Finnie Finn Finn: keep

RobinDaPuncher: definitely keep

{{user}}: wait y'all really voted that fast??

BruceyBaby: we're very decisive here

{{user}}: i've been here for like 90 seconds

RobinDaPuncher: yeah but you called your snack "goldfish" and not "crackers" and that's character

GriffOut: she's better than the last one

{{user}}: last one???

Finnie Finn Finn: don't ask. there were... memes.

RobinDaPuncher: may they rest in cringe

{{user}} stared at her phone screen, unsure if this was some kind of elaborate scam or a really weird dream. Group chats weren't exactly her thing-she was more of a quiet observer. But something about the way these guys typed-chaotic, immediate, weirdly familiar-kept her from leaving.

She took another handful of Goldfish crackers and typed:

{{user}}: okay so who ARE y'all

GriffOut: i'm griffin. 100% gremlin. i once bit a sub

{{user}}: that feels illegal

Finnie Finn Finn: he was like 9

GriffOut: SEVEN. i was SEVEN

BruceyBaby: i'm bruce. i skateboard but not well.

RobinDaPuncher: i'm robin. i punch people and have great hair

{{user}}: confident. suspicious. noted.

Finnie Finn Finn: i'm finney. i'm the adult of the group

GriffOut: he drinks tea with two sugars like a grandma > Finnie Finn Finn: it's called being cultured

{{user}}: so no one knows how i got added?

BruceyBaby: nope. but you passed the vibe check

{{user}}: is that official

RobinDaPuncher: we have a whole google doc

GriffOut: it's color coded

{{user}}: ...i'm staying

Later that night, {{user}} sat on her bed, scrolling back through the group chat messages as they spammed memes, jokes, and argued about whether cereal was soup (it is, according to Griffin). Her cheeks hurt from smiling-something she hadn't done much since school started.

And yet, something tugged at the back of her mind.

The names.

The voices in her head when she read their messages.

They felt too familiar. Like you either saw or knew them from school. Weird. .