I gave my students a choice for their homework: Build a nuclear bomb. Find the teacher a tall, rich, and handsome boyfriend. Complete the physics worksheet. The next day, one student handed in a blank worksheet. I called her to my office to interrogate her: "Why didn't you do the homework?" She dragged a handsome guy in from the hallway. "Ms. Parker, here's the tall, rich, and handsome guy you wanted." I nearly fainted. 1 After graduating with my teaching degree, I returned to my high school alma mater as a physics teacher. As soon as I got my teaching license, my best friend ruthlessly roasted me: "Sarah Parker, with someone like you as a teacher, I fear for the future of those students." She was right. I'm chronically online, love memes, play video games with my students, and even led the whole class in a TikTok dance during the sports meet... So, my students never call me "Ms. Parker," they call me "Sister Sarah," and I've been unanimously voted "Most Unprofessional Physics Teacher at A-High." Today, while slacking off in the office, I saw a trending topic—#CraziestOnlineClassAssignments. The vibe was like this: "Physics homework, choose one: Build an atomic bomb. Take a photo holding hands with Einstein or Newton. Build a perpetual motion machine. Complete pages 40-43 in the workbook." "Math: Prove Goldbach's conjecture or finish one worksheet." "English: Take a photo with the President in front of the White House or translate this passage." ... Such a good meme, how could I not participate? So, when assigning homework in the class group chat, I posted an announcement: "Please choose one of the following to complete: Build a nuclear bomb. Find Ms. Parker a tall, rich, and handsome boyfriend. Complete the physics worksheet." Here's the thing: my parents have been relentless about me getting married lately. I was losing my mind, hence the second option. Who wouldn't go crazy under that kind of pressure? Minutes after posting, the red dot on the chat icon turned into "99+". "LMAO." "Sister Sarah keeping up with the trends." "If I win a Nobel Prize, can I get extra credit on the final?" Then, the vibe shifted. "Wait, Sister Sarah is still single?" "I heard she's never dated anyone." "Sister Sarah, I can introduce you to my second cousin's neighbor's nephew." ... My face darkened. I forcibly deleted the "never dated anyone" message and muted the chat. Why do they have to be so honest? I don't want to hear it. 2 The next day, out of 47 students, I collected 46 worksheets. After class, the class rep and I checked the list and found the lone defaulter: Lily Lin. She's usually a good kid. Why the sudden rebellion? I called her to the office. "Where's the worksheet from yesterday? Let me see it." She looked calm, pulled out a paper, and handed it to me. Tsk, cleaner than my face after a facial. What is wrong with this kid? I rubbed my temples: "Why didn't you do the homework?" She grinned: "Ms. Parker, I did the homework." Then she dragged a guy in a baseball cap from the hallway and pushed him in front of me. "This is my brother. Ms. Parker, here's the tall, rich, and handsome guy you wanted." ? The other teachers in the office put down their lesson plans and turned to watch. The handsome guy lifted his cap and smiled: "Sarah Parker, long time no see." I stared at him for a moment. I recognized him. It was my high school crush—Lucas Lin. I paused: "Lu... Lucas?" Lucas nodded slightly. I turned back to my student: "He's your brother?" Lily nodded too. Oh god, oh god... I played the meme too hard and it backfired. My colleagues were all watching the drama, some even covering their mouths and giggling. My reputation is ruined! I felt dizzy, the room spun, and I collapsed. 3 Dead memories suddenly attacked me. In high school, my math was atrocious. I counted on my fingers for double-digit addition. Definitions, geometry, equations—all Greek to me. But Lucas, who sat behind me, consistently scored 145+ out of 150 on math exams. Sigh, the gap between humans. Taking advantage of proximity, I turned around to ask him whenever I was stuck. He was nice too. To make sure I understood, he'd explain a problem four or five times without getting annoyed! We were close when he explained things. And he was handsome. Devastatingly handsome. Refined features, sharp jawline. Every time I turned around, I couldn't help but sneak a peek. My heart fluttered like a trapped bird—who wouldn't like a hot guy patiently explaining calculus? I was crushing hard. I whined to my best friend every day. Eventually, her ears calloused over, and she urged me to shoot my shot. "Go big or go home!" Let's do it! That day, I bought nice paper and an envelope to write a confession letter. First time writing a love letter. I wanted it to be classy. I deliberated over every word. Seven days later, I squeezed out six words: "Dear Lucas Lin..." That was it. As a science student, my literary skills were tragic. So I bribed my liberal arts major best friend with five bucks to write it for me. She waved her pen, swish swish swish, and ten minutes later—slap—she slammed the paper in front of me. I picked it up. Tsk, so cheesy. Phrases like "My secret love for you is a silent wind moving the grass," "I miss you occasionally, but often occasionally..." I got goosebumps. My face twisted in cringe. She rolled her eyes: "Take it or leave it!" I smiled like a sycophant, "I'll take it, I'll take it..." But the letter stayed in my hand for half a month. I couldn't send it. Besides being a coward, there was another reason. Rumors about Lucas and the school beauty, Misty, were flying everywhere. Everyone knew. And me? No makeup, braces, face full of acne. Competing with the school beauty was like hitting a rock with an egg. My best friend rolled her eyes again and moved to snatch the letter back: "If you're scared, don't do it." The provocation worked: "No, no! Let me try one more time! I can do it!" I swore, holding up three fingers. "If I don't give it to him today, I'll eat it!" After school, Lucas and the boys finished basketball and were walking back, laughing. I hid behind a wall, eavesdropping. The boys were gossiping about Lucas and Misty again. They got closer. I clutched the letter, palms sweating. Counting down in my head: 3, 2, 1. Just as I was about to jump out, Lucas's voice rang out: "I'm not interested in girls." ... I stuffed the letter in my mouth and ate it with tears in my eyes. After discovering Lucas's secret, I ignored him for the rest of senior year. I wished I could move my desk 800 meters away. Even if he talked to me, I just mumbled "Mmhmm" and brushed him off. I finally understood why he rejected every girl's gift. The dude wasn't interested in girls!!! 4 I looked at this familiar face, rolled my eyes back, and slumped into the chair. The room erupted into chaos. Someone pinched my philtrum, someone fanned me, someone poured water... "Ms. Parker? Sarah? Are you okay?" I looked at the concerned faces, pale and weak: "I'm fine..." Lucas must be here to discuss his sister's grades. Definitely not to cause trouble. Must be! I drank some water, calmed down, and pulled Lucas outside: "Lucas, what are you doing here?" I clung to my last hope: "Are you here to talk about Lily's studies?" The next second, my hope was ruthlessly shattered. "No. "I heard a certain single-since-birth physics teacher was getting desperate from family pressure and publicly recruiting a boyfriend," he crossed his arms and smirked, "I came specifically to watch the show." His "single-since-birth" comment stabbed my heart. I almost coughed blood. How could such cold words come from his 98.6-degree mouth!! High school? No dating for obvious reasons. College? Four years focused on my career, studying, getting certified, tutoring. No time for love. Now? Work, parental pressure, blind dates. And the blind dates were unreliable. Last month, a distant aunt introduced a "mature, steady man." Yeah, mature. He was over 40. A neighbor introduced a "quality man." House, car, savings. But... divorced with a kid. I have no interest in being a stepmom. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous! I laughed dryly, expressionless. "Yeah, my parents see everyone else's kids getting married, and I haven't even found a boyfriend. They're panicking. Nagging every day. It's annoying." Lucas paced back and forth, then stopped in front of me and said something shocking. He said he was also being pressured to marry. Why don't we team up and act? Pretend to be a couple to appease our families. I despised him internally: This guy clearly isn't into girls but is too afraid to come out, so he drags someone else into his lie. Harmful to others and himself. If I agree to act with him, isn't that selling my soul? So— I need more money. "Sure," I agreed readily. "But I need a fee for my acting services." "For one performance—this much. Okay?" I waved two fingers, meaning 200 bucks. He nodded: "No problem." Then he tapped on his phone. Next second, Ding— Alipay: Received 10,000 yuan (~$1,400). My balance jumped from two digits to five. !!! I gasped. I work like a donkey every day and only make that much in a month! "What's wrong?" His eyes were innocent. "Two thousand per act. Five acts upfront. If we need more, I'll pay more. Is there a problem?" He didn't even flinch. Oh, right. In the office, Lily said her brother was the tall, rich, and handsome guy I needed. "No, no, no!" I beamed like a flower. "Pleasure doing business with you!" His eyes softened: "Mmh. Pleasure." 5 WeChat Group "Happy Family": [CloudBreaker (Dad)] patted me: Daughter, found a boyfriend yet? [BloomingRich (Mom)] (Voice Message): "Your cousin's engagement party is next Saturday morning. Don't forget. Aiyah, when will you bring someone home?" [Me]: I found a boyfriend. [CloudBreaker]: Are you painting us another pie (lying) again? I've used this line many times. My parents believed it every time, only to be ghosted. So this time, they didn't believe it. I rubbed my brow and typed furiously: "Really found one. Bringing him home in a couple of days." To convince them, I stole a few photos from Lucas's Moments and sent them. After that, I tossed my phone and went to shower. When I came out, I had countless missed calls. I called back. Picked up instantly. My parents bombarded me with excitement, making my head spin. Dad fired the first salvo: "What's he like? How old? What does he do?" Mom grabbed the phone: "How did you meet?" Dad: "How long have you known him?" Mom: "Do you think he's the one?" ... I had planned this whole charade: First, bring Lucas home, claim he's my boyfriend, and get some peace and quiet. A few months later, tell them we broke up due to personality differences. Then use "heartbreak" as an excuse to reject blind dates. My abacus was clicking loudly. Ideally, I wouldn't be bothered about marriage for six months to a year!
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