Rowan had always been a fast learner, but his curiosity seemed insatiable. Fresh off his computer repair victory, he found himself looking for the next challenge, something that would push his skills even further.

One evening, as he sat in the living room scrolling through job postings and research programs, Jake walked in, tossing a wrench onto the coffee table.

"Alright, kid," Jake said with a smirk, "you've tackled computers. How about something bigger? The truck's been acting up. Think you can handle it?"

Rowan raised an eyebrow. "You want me to fix the truck? That's like? mechanical, not logical."

Jake chuckled. "Oh, it's plenty logical. Engines are just big puzzles, and you love puzzles."

Intrigued, Rowan followed Jake out to the garage, where the hood of their old truck was already propped open. The scent of oil and metal filled the air as Jake handed him a flashlight.

"First rule," Jake said, "always diagnose before you start messing with things. Tell me what's wrong."

Rowan shined the light over the engine, furrowing his brows. He knew the basics of combustion engines but had never actually worked on one. "It was making noise before it stalled, right?"

Jake nodded. "Yep. And there's been some trouble starting it up."

Rowan inspected the battery terminals, the belts, and the hoses, taking his time before speaking. "Could be a bad alternator. Or maybe the spark plugs are dirty."

Jake smiled. "Not bad. Let's test those theories."

Over the next hour, father and son worked together, troubleshooting and replacing faulty parts. Rowan's hands were covered in grease, and he'd managed to drop a wrench on his foot twice, but when they finally got the truck to start smoothly, he couldn't help but grin.

"See?" Jake said, clapping Rowan on the back. "You're not just a brainiac. You've got a little grease monkey in you too."

Rowan laughed, wiping his hands on an old rag. "I think I still prefer computers. But this was? fun."

Jake smirked. "Well, don't get too comfortable. There's always something else to fix around here."

And with that, Rowan realized - learning never really ended, and that was what he loved most.

Later that night, Rowan sat at his desk, refreshing his blog's analytics when an unexpected email popped up. Another influential science and tech blog had reached out, interested in collaborating with him. He read the message twice, excitement bubbling inside him. He had just met these folks online, but something about their work resonated with him. They liked his content, and he liked theirs. It was an instant connection.

Grabbing his phone, he dialed Oliver immediately.

"Dude, you will not believe this," Rowan said the moment Oliver picked up.

"If it's another weird space fact, I swear - " Oliver started.

"No, no! I just got contacted by another blog. They want to collab with me! This is huge!"

Oliver let out a low whistle. "Look at you, Mr. Internet Famous. Guess I should start being nicer to you before you forget the little people."

Rowan laughed. "Never gonna happen. But seriously, this could be big. It's the kind of exposure that might actually get my ideas out there."

Oliver grinned. "Then I guess we should celebrate. Burgers at the diner? First round's on me."

Rowan leaned back in his chair, staring at the email with a grin. "Deal."

The diner was buzzing with its usual small-town chatter, the scent of sizzling burgers and crispy fries filling the air as Rowan and Oliver slid into their usual booth. A neon sign flickered against the window, casting a soft glow over their table as they grabbed the menus - though neither of them actually needed to look.

"Alright, genius," Oliver said, flipping his menu over dramatically. "How does it feel to be a certified rising star of the internet? Are you gonna start wearing sunglasses indoors now? Maybe get an entourage?"

Rowan rolled his eyes, setting his menu aside. "Oh yeah, totally. I was thinking about hiring you as my personal assistant. You could carry my science notes around, make sure my coffee's at the perfect temperature."

Oliver gasped in mock horror. "First of all, I'd be the worst assistant ever. Secondly, I demand a cut of the blog profits if I'm going to be dealing with your ego."

Rowan smirked. "Fine. One percent."

Oliver huffed, crossing his arms. "You drive a hard bargain, but I'll take it."

The waitress arrived with their food, placing down two loaded burgers with sides of fries. Rowan grabbed a fry and pointed it at Oliver. "Honestly, though, thanks for being excited about this with me. I know it's just a blog, but - "

Oliver cut him off, stealing a fry from Rowan's plate. "Dude, this isn't 'just a blog.' It's huge. And I'm hyped for you. I mean, you actually found people who care about what you're doing. That's pretty awesome."

Rowan hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. It is."

Oliver smirked. "Plus, the more famous you get, the more chances I have to shamelessly mooch off you. Win-win."

Rowan laughed, shaking his head. "Of course. What was I thinking? This is all about you."

They clinked their glasses of soda together in a mock toast, the celebration small but meaningful. Between the laughter and shared fries, Rowan realized just how lucky he was to have a friend like Oliver - someone who made every victory, no matter how big or small, feel even better.