Goldilocks and the British Accent

18 | Rumour Has it.

Goldilocks 🚺

"Secret hero saves from the clutches of Rick O'Malley."

"Implicating videos of Rick O'Malley revealed at Sunday's debate by anonymous (godsend) hacker."

"Rick O'Malley takes a dive at the debate as Canada's own anonymous hero reveals the skeletons in his closet."

Those were the headlines of every news channel on television this week; they had done an investigation and found out that someone hacked into Rick's laptop. As much as I tried to get them out of my head, I couldn't. The whole of Canada was abuzz with news of a secret hero, a mysterious hacker. Anonymous and godsent.

I scoffed. Yes it had been most amazing what had happened, miraculous almost and I was very grateful but Theodore was none of those words those reporters had called him. He wasn't godsent and he most certainly wasn't a hero. He had simply made up for the great havoc he had caused.

Besides, I knew him on a more personal level than those news channels did and I knew that the only thing extraordinary about him was his otherworldly face and british accent, none of which, he deserved.

I grab my yellow glasses from my wardrobe and my handbag, fully stocked with diabetes. I walk down the stairs to the living room where I spot Mom, a cup of coffee in her hand, a smile on her face and a faraway look in her eyes. She too had gotten wind of the mysterious hacker and like everyone in this town, she couldn't stop talking about him.

"Hey Mom."

She turns her head in my direction and her smile grows even wider. "Good morning Sophia."

"What's got you in a happy mood?" I ask as I take one of the pancakes from the pile she had already made, drowning it in syrup.

For a while, she stares at me, the smile still on her face.

"Isn't he just wonderful?"

I groan.

"I mean, what a clever plan right?" She continues. "And he didn't leave a single trace of his identity. Mysterious indeed."

"Could be a she mom," I say as I stuff my mouth with pancakes. "What if I told you it was me."

She pauses and for a few seconds, she looks like she's trying to hold the coffee in her mouth from spilling. She finally swallows.

"What a cruel joke honey. Don't make me laugh," she says, dabbing her lips with a napkin. "You're smart but that... that was genius on another level."

"Wow, words from my own mother."

"I forgot to tell you," she says, placing her cup on the tray beside her. "We'll be having dinner with the Millers tomorrow. As a form of... celebration for the good fortune that befell us during the debate."

"Really?" I say, wiping my mouth. "I'm not going."

"Why do you always think you have a choice?"

"Mom," I sigh. "I have school and stuff. Going out so much isn't really good for me."

"It's just dinner, don't be dramatic," she reasons. "Besides, you get to see that Theodore boy. Both of you look like good friends."

"You know what Mom? We'll have this conversation when I get back from school," I say, walking towards the door. "Bye."

"What did you s-"

I shut the door and I sigh. Imagine. She thought we were good friends. If only she knew the half of it.