Chapter 10: Humiliation: AI Strategy Meets Real Life

Alright, Peter. You’ve got this. Just follow the AI’s script, be confident but not arrogant, show genuine interest. How hard can it be to have a normal human conversation?

Famous last words.

I approached Lea’s desk with what I hope looks like casual confidence but probably comes across as someone who’s constipated and trying to hide it. She was still writing in her planner with the kind of precision that suggests she color-codes her to-do lists and schedules bathroom breaks.

"Hey, Lea," I started, and my voice only cracked a little. "What did you think about Henderson’s point about labor unions?"

Perfect. Exactly like the AI suggested. Academic, non-threatening gives her a chance to show off her knowledge. I’m basically a conversational genius.

Lea looked up from her planner, and I get my first real look at her eyes behind those wire-rimmed glasses. They’re actually really pretty—dark brown with these little gold flecks that I’ve never noticed before. Probably because I’ve spent the last four years trying not to stare at girls who were clearly out of my league.

"Oh, you mean how she completely oversimplified the entire labor movement and ignored the role of immigrant workers in industrial capitalism?" Lea said, not even pausing to think about it. "Yeah, that was pretty disappointing. Henderson always teaches history like it’s just a series of white guys making decisions in boardrooms."

Okay, that’s... actually a really good point. And definitely not the direction I expected this conversation to go.

"Right, exactly," I nodded, even though I was honestly only half-listening to Henderson’s lecture because I was too busy texting with an AI about how to seduce the girl I’m currently talking to. "You always seem to get this stuff so easily. Do you actually enjoy history or are you just naturally good at everything?"

There we go. Compliment disguised as a question, just like ChatGPT suggested. I’m nailing this.

Lea tilted her head and gave me this look that’s somewhere between curious and suspicious. "That’s... a weird thing to say, Peter. Are you feeling okay? You took a pretty hard hit yesterday."

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just, you know, trying to have actual conversations with people instead of just existing in my own little world all the time."

"Huh." She closed her planner and looked at me more carefully. "You do seem different today. More... present, I guess? Like you’re actually here instead of just going through the motions."

Holy shit, she noticed. The charm is actually working. This is going better than I—

"Is this because of what happened with Jack Morrison?" she continued. "Because honestly, that was the funniest thing I’ve seen all year. The look on his face when you suggested he has a tiny dick was absolutely priceless."

I could feel my face heating up. "Yeah, that probably wasn’t my smartest moment."

"Are you kidding? It was brilliant. I’ve been waiting for someone to take that pompous asshole down a peg for four years." She grinned, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Lea smile. It completely transforms her face. "Plus, the way he backed down this morning?

Chef’s kiss.

You’ve got the entire football team questioning their masculinity."

Okay, this is definitely going well. She’s smiling, she’s complimenting my accidental psychological warfare, and she seems genuinely happy to talk to me. Time to transition into something more personal, create that genuine connection the AI was talking about.

"You know, it’s weird," I said, leaning against her desk in what I hope is a smooth, casual way. "I’ve spent so long being invisible that I forgot other people might actually have interesting things to say."

"Oh, so now you want to hear what I have to say?" Lea’s tone shifted slightly, and there’s something sharp in her voice that wasn’t there before. "That’s fascinating, Peter. Really fucking fascinating."

Wait. What? That’s not the response I was expecting.

"I... what?"

Lea stood up, and suddenly she’s close enough that I could smell her shampoo—something vanilla and clean that makes my brain short-circuit for a second. But her expression had gone from friendly to something that looks dangerously close to pissed off.

"Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get you to notice I exist?" she let out, and her voice is getting louder. "Four years, Peter. Four fucking years of sitting behind you in classes, helping you with homework when you asked, trying to start conversations about books and movies and literally anything."

Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh shit.

"Lea, I—"

"I had such a massive crush on you sophomore year that it was embarrassing. You want to know why I started wearing these baggy sweaters? Because every time I wore anything remotely fitted, you’d look right through me like I was invisible. So I figured maybe if I looked more... academic, more serious, you might actually see me as a person worth talking to."

The classroom was emptying out around us, but Lea’s voice carried enough that the stragglers are definitely getting a show. I could see Madison Torres and her friends hovering by the door, phones probably already out.

"But no," Lea continued, and now she’s really getting warmed up. "Peter Carter only notices girls when they’re impossibly hot like Sofia Delgado, Madison Torres, or when he suddenly gets a confidence boost from having his dick size become public knowledge.

That’s

when you decide I might be worth having a conversation with."

"That’s not—" I started, but she cut me off.

"You know what the really funny part is? I actually thought you were different. I thought you were this smart, sensitive guy who just needed someone to see past the whole shy nerd thing. But you’re just like every other guy—you only care when you think you have a shot with someone out of your league."

She snored and started gathering her stuff now, shoving notebooks into her bag with enough force to probably damage something. Several more students had stopped to watch this public execution, including Tommy, who’s standing in the doorway with his mouth hanging open.

"And for the record," Lea said, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "your dick size was never the problem. Your complete inability to see me as anything other than furniture was the problem."

She started to walk away, then turned back like she’s remembered something important.

"Oh, and Peter? Next time you want to practice your newfound seduction skills, maybe try it on someone who doesn’t already know you’re full of shit."

And with that, she walked out of the classroom, leaving me standing there like a deer in headlights while half the class stared at me with expressions ranging from shocked to amused to deeply entertained.

Tommy approached cautiously, like I might explode if he moves too fast.

"Dude," he said quietly. "What the fuck just happened?"

"I think," I said, still processing the absolute destruction I just witnessed, "I just got completely annihilated by someone I’ve been ignoring for four years thinking she wasn’t in my league."

"Yeah, that’s... that’s what it looked like from here."

Madison Torres walked by on her way out, and she actually stopped to talk to me. Which would be exciting if I hadn’t just been publicly eviscerated by the smartest girl in school.

"That was intense," she said, and there’s something in her voice that might be sympathy. "Lea’s usually so quiet. I’ve never seen her lose it like that."

"Yeah, well, apparently I’m really good at bringing out the worst in people."

Madison tilted her head, studying me with the kind of attention I’ve never received from her before. "You know, what she said about you being different today? She’s not wrong. You do seem more... I don’t know. More there."

And then she smiled at me. Actually smiled, not the polite acknowledgment of existence I’m used to, but a real smile with actual warmth behind it.

"Maybe you should try talking to people who don’t have four years of baggage with you," she said. "Fresh start, you know?"

She walked away, leaving me standing in the rapidly emptying classroom with Tommy and the lingering scent of my own humiliation.

"So," Tommy said softly after a moment. "That was a fucking disaster."

"Yep."

"But Madison Torres just basically asked you to talk to her."

"Yep."

"And half the school just watched you get roasted by Lea Martinez."

"Also yep."

Tommy grinned. "Dude, your social life has gotten so much more interesting since you started telling people about your dick."

I look at the system message that’s been blinking in the corner of my vision:

[Mission Status: Failed - Target Acquired Negative Relationship Status]

[New Target Suggested: Madison Torres - Compatibility Rating: 78%]

Well, at least the system has a sense of humor about my complete and total failure.

"Come on," I told Tommy. "Let’s get to lunch before someone else decides to publicly destroy me today."

"You think that’s likely?"

I consider this. "At this point? Probably."

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