Chapter 22: Monica and Paige
"Ah!"
Ross, the lanky young man, screamed at the sound of gunfire and ran to the back of the car.
"How about we go back now?"
Monica, his younger sister, was much braver than her brother. She had already seen Chuck crouched there, handling a sniper rifle, and felt relieved that it was normal for him to shoot on a farm. She teased her brother, who was screaming like a little girl.
"Let's go!"
Ross nodded repeatedly.
Although he cared deeply about his dog, Chi-Chi, when he was little, so much so that after all these years, when he learned that his parents' promise to send Chi-Chi to Anderson Farm upstate, where there were horses and fields, was a lie, he had to come and see for himself.
But compared to his own life, Marcel was just a monkey.
"Relax, this is a farm, it's normal for people to shoot here,"
Monica said reassuringly, pointing to Chuck's position.
"That's easy to say."
Lanky Ross also noticed Chuck, crouched in a standard shooting stance. Seeing the gun wasn't pointed at him, he breathed a sigh of relief. He finally realized his sister's teasing and, with renewed confidence, retorted, "I'm not a street-smart survivor like you, Mon."
"You should be thankful I'm Mon now, otherwise you wouldn't have spent your childhood as a happy prince in the Geller family."
Monica wasn't offended by her brother's reference to her as "the tough Mon." Instead, she embraced the nickname.
As two siblings from a middle-class family, their parents had always cherished their older brother, Ross, while treating her like she was disposable. They were practically treated like polar opposites.
They shared similar personalities: a fiercely competitive spirit, a rivalry that had seen them grow up, each with their share of victories and defeats.
Not long ago, she lost her credit card and had it stolen. Looking at the bill from the credit card company, she focused not on the theft but on how it had been spent.
The person swiped her credit card, bought art supplies, and took dance lessons—all the lifestyle she imagined.
This piqued her interest in the fraudster, and she tracked down the fake "Monica." When asked for her name, she improvised the name "Mon."
The fake Mon and the fake Monica got along well, learning many of her dream lifestyles from the fake Monica and becoming her inspiration.
Although the fake Monica was eventually caught, the real Monica relished the experience. The casually coined name, Mon, became her nickname, representing another possibility in her life.
She'd often thought that if she had been modeled after the fake Monica since childhood, given her parents' undisguised favoritism towards her brother, she would have been lucky not to have become a psychologically damaged, antisocial, and bitter sister, let alone the caring, friendly, and universally beloved Monica she is today.
So her brother should be thankful!
"Mr. Anderson, Mrs. Anderson, I'm Monica, and this is my brother Ross. We spoke to you on the phone yesterday."
Monica ignored her brother, who was still hiding behind the car and could only glare at her. She took a step closer and called out to the house.
"Oh my! I almost forgot about that."
Mr. Anderson, upon hearing the voices, slapped his forehead and came out. "You guys actually drove all the way here, just for a dog?"
"Yes, Chi-Chi, remember?"
Monica smiled, but her eyes couldn't help but glance at Chuck, who was crouched over there, holding a Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle.
"Dr. Wolfe is here visiting today,"
Mrs. Anderson explained, smiling at Monica from the doorway. "Come in first."
"Yes, come in first and wait."
Mr. Anderson also realized what was happening, beckoned Monica and the others, and then picked up the binoculars and continued looking over.
Even after a while, he still couldn't believe what he saw.
He had seen good shooters before, after all, they all handled firearms regularly, but to see someone as skilled as Chuck was still too astonishing.
"Dr. Wolfe?"
Ross relaxed immediately upon hearing Chuck was a doctor. He straightened his posture, fixed his hair, and stepped out from behind the car.
He was also a doctor.
"Yes."
Mrs. Anderson nodded gently.
"He's already a doctor at such a young age."
Monica's eyes lit up as she looked at Chuck lying there shooting.
"Ahem."
Ross was a little annoyed by his sister's tone and coughed heavily, reminding her that he wasn't that old and was also a doctor!
"Stop coughing, don't tell me you still don't know the gap between you and a true genius."
Monica complained.
"..."
Ross's face grew longer, and he said with a dark expression: "Not everyone is like Paige!"
"I only know that you are not Paige."
Monica shrugged and looked at Chuck again.
"Ugh!"
Ross complained. "If it weren't for me, a talented doctoral graduate from Columbia, you wouldn't have gotten the chance to be Paige's mentor at Columbia. And don't forget, this genius Paige doesn't like you, Mon!"
"Thank you for giving me this opportunity, but that's all you contributed,"
Monica retorted, waving her finger. "Columbia chose me to be Paige's mentor because they valued my dedication and caring nature. This was all thanks to my own hard work!"
After the fake Monica incident, Monica, who was working as a chef, became a bit rebellious. Once, when her boss scolded her, she impulsively transformed into Mon and directly and coolly retorted, and was fired.
After that, she was thinking about changing careers. Just then, she heard from Ross that Columbia was recruiting mentors for a difficult genius girl. She applied and was accepted.
"Yeah, because with your OCD maxed out, germaphobia maxed out, and competitive streak maxed out, you're a troublemaker's nightmare,"
Ross scoffed. "No wonder that Paige doesn't like you. She says you're uptight. You're only 26 but act like you're 40!"
"She's just teasing. I only look 22!"
Monica fumed.
"You two are really siblings."
Mrs. Anderson laughed at the constant bickering between Monica and Ross.
"Holy cow!"
Mr. Anderson ignored them after a few words, continuing to stare into the distance with his binoculars. When there was another shot, he yelled out in amazement.
"Hit it?"
Monica couldn't see clearly from too far away, but she guessed Chuck had definitely hit the target.
"Unbelievable,"
Mr. Anderson muttered, stunned.
"What's the big deal? It's just slightly more accurate shooting,"
Ross shrugged.
"Just slightly?"
Mr. Anderson said excitedly, pointing in the direction of the target. "A full mile away, and every shot is dead center. Do you know what that means? And just now..."
At this point, his eyes widened beyond their limit and he cried out in disbelief, "That thing just now wasn't a stationary target at all. It was a baseball launched from a pitching machine, flying through the air, and he nailed it from a mile away! Good Lord, is this really happening?"
(End of this chapter)
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