You & I: Summer Love

Chapter 3: New Subscribers

It was the day after I embarrassed myself in front of James and Unspeakable. I am currently baking sugar-less cookies for Mrs. Lutzen because she couldn't eat any of the ones I made yesterday. That, and I promised her I would. I place them carefully into a box with my channel name and logo. I grab my box and keys, heading out of the house. Turning left, I start walking to her house. Knocking on her door, I stood in her porch for a few seconds before I heard the faint call of "Coming!"

Shortly after, Mrs. Lutzen opened her door.

"Hello Mrs. Lutzen. I brought you the cookies I promised," I said while holding out the box of cookies.

"Thank you, but you know I can't have sugar," Mrs. Lutzen said, disdain clear in her voice. Apparently she thinks I forgot about our conversation yesterday.

"I remembered. That's why I made these without sugar. I sweetened them with fruit juice."

Mrs. Lutzen's features softened, and she said, "No one's ever done anything like this for me in a very long time."

"Would you like to try one? " I tentatively ask her.

She nods her head, and I opened the box. she reaches in and grabs one. She takes a bite and her eyes get big. Do they taste bad? Did I mess up the recipe? Is she allergic to the fruit juice I used? I haven't had much experience with making sugar-free baked goods, but I am willing to try.

My worries are soon laid to rest when she immediately says, "These are so delicious! You should open a bakery!"

"That's what I'm going to college for. I want to open a bakery, and I look forward for the challenge."

"These are extraordinary! I can see why you would!"

"Well, thank you. Unfortunately, I have to get home now."

"Any time, deary, and thank you for the cookies!" Mrs. Lutzen said. I turn around and start walking home, crossing her yard into mine.

The rest of my day is spent on baking more cookies for videos, which were my sugar-free cookies, and editing another video. Later than night, I am in bed, relaxing and browsing YouTube when I see that Unspeakable uploaded a new video. They always get up to something crazy. Clicking on the video, I watch what they get up to with a smile on my face, always smiling wider when I see James on screen. I am enjoying the new content so much that I hardly notice when James walks into frame, eating a cookie.

"Yo, these are delicious!" James exclaimed, while taking a bite.

"Oh, yeah," Nathan said. "We met our new next door neighbor, the maker of these cookies."

I freeze, a look of horror flashing across my face. Unfortunately, it gets worse.

"These cookies are from (Yt/n)," Nathan continues as the cameraman zooms into the top of my cookie boxes, where I forgot I had placed my channel name and icon.

"Make sure you go subscribe to her channel! She is so-" James speaks before I cut him off. I slam my laptop closed. My mind is reeling. I don't want people thinking I wanted a shout out. I mean, it was awesome, the Unspeakable vlog crew giving my small channel a shout out, but I also don't want people to think that I planned for that, which I didn't.

Tentatively I open my laptop, then quickly open a new tab before the video could continue to play. Pulling up my YouTube channel, the first thing I notice is my subscriber count. It had grown by about 7,000 subscribers! Apparently that shout out had interested some of Nathan's subscribers because they subscribed to me. I know this was a result of the shout out because I have seen jumps in my subscribers before. The most it ever was at one time was about 100. This was something different.

I am so surprised, I slump back into my pillows. I sit like that for a few minutes, I guess. I'm not really keeping count. Slowly I sit forward and shut my laptop. Reaching out, I turn off my bedside lamp and lay down, my eyes still wide open and mind still spinning. Should I address the shout out? Should I ignore it? Should I comment asking them never to do it again, and risk coming off rude? I have no idea how long I tried to fall asleep, but it must have been hours. Despite the thoughts, I slowly feel my eyelids get heavier, and as I drift off into sleep, my mind keeps pushing one thought at me: what was James going to say about me?