The Spoiler Smartwatch

Translucent text flashed across my vision： [Just wait.

The guys pass the ultimate pickme around tonight!] Brooke craved male validation, constantly playing "one of the boys." The result? The guys treated her as free game.

Tonight's grad bash hides a brutal trap—a snare set perfectly for my sister. Glaring at these spoiler comments, I gripped my bright pink kid's smartwatch. "Toxic scumbags.

Watch me shred your little script tonight." Chapter 1 The glowing words suspended in the air broke it down: Brooke loved the high of male attention.

She paraded around as "one of the guys," desperate to keep their eyes locked on her. A classic pickme girl. No girl wanted a pickme hovering around her boyfriend.

Naturally, Brooke was universally hated by the female student body. And because she glued herself to the boys, they took it as an open invitation.

If she was throwing it at them, why not catch it? So, at tonight's postgrad party, they planned to use her to pop their cherries. "Practice," they called it. Honestly?

I didn’t understand the messy romantic politics of older teenagers. I only knew one truth. Brooke loved me. She always saved the best snacks and the best games for me.

I couldn't let her get hurt. If these floating comments were dropping spoilers from the future, I could use them. I could rewrite her ending.

I made up my mind and pestered her until she finally caved and agreed to take me to the party.

Before we stepped out the door, I made sure my smartwatch was strapped tight to my wrist. [WTF? The pickme actually brought her kid sister? What a terrible influence.] [Relax.

Asher isn’t a complete monster. He won’t do it in front of the kid. He’ll just book two separate hotel rooms. Won't delay the main event.] [We’re feasting tonight, boys!

Ready for the show!] We pushed through the doors into the private VIP booth. The second the guys spotted Brooke’s miniskirt, the room erupted in sleazy winks and catcalls. "Damn!

Our favorite bro actually has a feminine side." "Who knew Brooke was hiding legs like that? Legs for days, man." "No kidding.

I’m mesmerized." Asher—the socalled male lead from the comments—let out a piercing wolf whistle. He curled a finger, beckoning her over.

Brooke marched right into his space and slung an arm comfortably over his shoulder. "What do you think? I told you I’d wear it.

I can hang with the big boys." Asher’s hand slid down, his fingers giving her ass a brazen squeeze. "Oh, you can hang. You’re always down to play.

Would be a lot better if it was a few inches shorter, though," he smirked. She punched him lightly in the chest. "Perv.

My skirt could never be as short as what you're packing." Asher laughed, a low, guttural sound. "I know you're stacked, but how do you know I come up short?" "Being stacked is an objective fact.

You coming up short? That's what you just admitted." The entire booth erupted into a chorus of raucous, filthy laughter. Right on cue, the floating comments went feral. [Holy shit!

What a desperate pickme! Touching his shoulder, shoving his chest. Disguising her pathetic flirting as 'bro banter.' Even a literal succubus wouldn't be this shamelessly thirsty.

She belongs to the streets.] [Talking about dick sizes in front of a kid. Sister of the year right here.] [Stupid slut. She deserves to be Asher's warmup.

He’s going to practice on her all summer. By the time he gets to Genevieve, his skills will be godtier. Our girl Genevieve is in for a treat!] [Wait, isn't Asher cheating?

He already has Genevieve. 'Practice' sounds like a cheap excuse.] [You sweet summer child. Asher is just terrified his lack of experience will hurt his precious Genevieve.

He has to practice! Besides, once a guy zips his pants back up, he’s brand new. Cheating? Please.] Chapter 2 The VIP booth reeked of cheap cologne and teenage testosterone.

The few girls scattered around the room had clearly seen Brooke’s whole routine before. I could see the disgust on their faces.

Brooke finished working the room, highfiving the boys before slumping into the leather booth next to me.

I leaned in, my mouth grazing her ear. "Brooke, why do those guys keep grabbing your butt?" She froze. A dark flush crept up her neck; the question totally blindsided her.

Her eyes shifted slightly, searching for an excuse. "Because they all like me." I nodded slowly, pretending to process the information. "Oh.

So grabbing someone's butt means you have a crush on them. Then I'm going to tell Max to grab mine tomorrow at recess. He always says he likes me, but he never touches my butt. Ugh!

Max is such a liar.

He doesn't like me at all!" "Riley!" Brooke hissed, flicking my forehead hard enough to sting. "You let Max lay one finger on you, and I swear I'll break your legs!" I jutted out my bottom lip, milking the tears. "That's so unfair.

Only you get to have boys obsess over you. You're so controlling." She flicked my forehead a second time, dragging an invisible zipper across her lips. But the seed took root.

For the rest of the dinner, whenever a guy's hand drifted a little too low, Brooke slapped it away.

She loudly declared she couldn't corrupt a minor. "Come on, Asher, you dog," Brooke yelled over the heavy bass. "We're celebrating! Time to pay up for that Truth or Dare.

Let's link arms and take that shot." Jesus. She practically threw herself into his lap. I finally understood why every girl in school wanted to rip her hair out.

The glowing text had warned me about this exact moment—Brooke spotting Genevieve walking into the party.

Offering this shot wasn't just a game; it was a calculated, brutal move to publicly humiliate Asher's girlfriend. Asher would try to chase Genevieve down.

Brooke would fake a dizzy spell, collapsing into his chest to trap him. And Asher?

He would use the distraction to slip a pill into Brooke's drink, dragging her to a cheap motel to rip her apart. I glared at Asher. Total walking red flag.

Sure, Brooke initiated the flirting, but if he couldn't reject a basic trap, he didn't deserve to be anyone's leading man. Never mind, now wasn't the time to curse him out.

I snatched a can of Sprite from the table, sprinting over to Asher’s side. "Asher!

I want to do a crossedarm shot with you too!" I screamed, launching my entire body weight to ram Brooke right out of the way. "Brooke, I have a crush on him too! Let me have him!

Please?" Asher flashed a sickeningly sweet smile. "I like you too, kiddo." Brooke slammed her fist into his shoulder. "Shut your mouth, you dog." From the shadows of the booth, a sharp, venomous voice cut through the noise. "Disgusting.

Both sisters are desperate homewreckers." The atmosphere shattered. Brooke’s head snapped toward the sound. She grabbed my collar, practically tossing me back onto the sofa.

Her fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. She stalked toward the girl who spoke. "Who the hell are you calling a homewrecker?" The girl didn't flinch.

She shoved her index finger right into Brooke’s face. "I'm talking about you, Brooke! Am I wrong? You know damn well Asher is dating Genevieve, but you constantly grind on him.

It’s sickening enough that you throw yourself at him, but dragging your little sister into your twisted game?

You have zero shame!" The girl scoffed, practically spitting in disgust, her chin jutted in pure defiance. "Asher?

You think I want to steal him?" Brooke threw her head back, letting out a sharp, mocking laugh. "I've known that loser since we were in diapers.

If I actually wanted him in my bed, Genevieve wouldn't even exist in his universe. You can talk trash about me all you want. But if you ever drag my little sister into this again?

I will physically knock your teeth down your throat." The girl sneered, completely unfazed by the threat. "If you want him so badly, then just date him!

Stop using the 'one of the boys' excuse to cover up your pathetic flirting! You're a garbage role model!

Do you want Riley to grow up and become a total pariah, just like you?" Chapter 3 Brooke froze, standing stockstill like a statue.

The empty leather seat right next to Asher had been strictly offlimits all night. When Brooke tried to slide into it earlier, he physically blocked her.

Now, the reason was glaringly obvious—he had been saving it for Genevieve.

Right this second, Asher leaned over, wiping down the table in front of Genevieve and pouring her a fresh drink. He treated her like fragile glass.

Words could lie, but his actions spoke louder than anything. Asher didn't give a damn about Brooke.

He just loved the ego trip of keeping her on a tight leash. "See that?" the girl sneered. "Genevieve is the real girlfriend here. She actually belongs next to him.

What the hell are you, Brooke?" Meanwhile, the floating comments multiplied, flooding my vision. [I feel so bad for the kid sister.

Being related to a shameless pickme is a curse.] [Wait, is no one else noticing the timeline glitching? Brooke hasn't touched the spiked drink yet.

By this point in the script, they should be tearing off each other's clothes in that cheap motel.] [The little sister is acting way too mature for an elementary schooler.

It’s almost like she’s reading our thread. Every move she makes is actively dismantling the main plot.] [Holy shit. What if she can see us?] Duh!

I see every single word, you absolute morons. I mentally muted the glowing text, sprinting over to grab Brooke’s hand. I swung her hand back and forth. "Brooke, let's go home.

It reeks of weed and vape smoke in here.

My head is spinning." I whipped my head around, sticking my tongue out at the girl who had screamed at us. "You’re trying awfully hard to defend Asher.

Are you secretly obsessed with him or something? Too bad he hasn't even glanced in your direction. What a total waste of energy." The girl's jaw snapped shut.

Brooke finally tore her gaze away from Asher. She wrapped her fingers tightly around my hand and dragged me out the door.

She left the toxic drama in the rearview. [Brooke is just leaving? Are we getting any spice tonight?! I waited all day for the motel scene!] [Relax.

Asher and Genevieve are together right now, so we get the sweet fluff first. Brooke can't escape her fate. Asher will use her for practice eventually. Why rush?] [I’m screaming!

Asher is literally fighting his own feral urges right now just to protect Genevieve. He wants her first time to be absolutely perfect.

The way he cherishes her is literally everything!] God, you guys are deafening. Shut up.

I glanced up at Brooke as we hit the sidewalk. "Why the sudden miniskirt tonight?" I asked. "I lost a bet," she muttered. I could tell she was in a terrible mood.

I kept my mouth shut, terrified of triggering an explosion.

We walked in heavy silence until she finally spoke. "Why were you acting so crazy tonight, Riley?" I hit her with the brutal truth. "Because the way those guys looked at you was super creepy.

Like a hungry wolf staring at a rabbit. I didn't want you to get hurt." "A wolf?" she echoed, her brows furrowing.

I dug into my brain, searching for the perfect grownup word. "Prey." Brooke stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide with shock. "Riley, you're a kid.

How do you even know what that means?" I dodged the question completely. "Do you actually have feelings for Asher?" She scoffed.

She admitted she didn't really like him, but seeing him treat another girl like royalty seriously pissed her off. But actually dating him? Hard pass. Asher wasn't even her type.

Adult relationships were a toxic, complicated mess. I didn't understand it. I only understood one thing. Asher made Brooke miserable, and I needed to make him pay.

I ordered Brooke to wait for me on the curb. Spinning on my heel, I sprinted straight back into the rented party venue. I peeked through the glass door of the VIP booth.

Asher’s seat sat completely empty. Genevieve sat alone, her face glowing in the light of her phone screen. To quote the glowing text: Jackpot.

Chapter 4 I marched right up to Genevieve.

My hand curled around the exact glass the floating text had tagged as spiked. "I'm so sorry about my sister," I lied smoothly. "I'll make sure my parents ground her into oblivion when we get home.

I want to toast to you. To the prettiest girl in the room!" I tipped my head back, raising the glass to my lips. "Whoa, stop!

You're a kid, you can't drink that." Genevieve snatched the glass right out of my hand.

She poured me a cup of juice instead. "But I'll take the toast." She clinked her glass against my juice cup.

And then she threw her head back and downed the spiked drink in one gulp. [WTF?! Why did Genevieve just drink the spiked cup? What is the author doing?

The plot is completely derailed