Page 114 of Need You to Choose Me

“She shit her brains out and stopped taking my food,” Berlin answers casually. “Easy peasy.”

Everybody is silent for a solid minute.

It’s Skylar who says, “Mental note. Never piss off Berlin.”

“Agreed.”

The girl in question laughs. “I’d never do that to you guys. She deserved it.”

“Anyway,” I butt back in, steering clear of Berlin’s shady history. “I appreciate you guys calling, but I’m fine.”

They’re quiet only for a second.

Berlin says, “I don’t buy it.”

I frown.

Skylar sighs softly. “You don’t always have to be okay, Olive. We’re here for you if you want to vent. Those people were mean for no reason.”

They were, but I can’t change it. “If I dwell on it…” What good will that do? “I can’t change people’s opinions of me. They can think whatever they want. And, inevitably, post about it. It’s freedom of speech.”

“But isn’t there such thing as defamation of character?” Berlin quips. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. You could sue.”

Sue who? The public? “I’m not suing anyone. And I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that anyway.”

“You’re not a cop. You don’t know the law,” Berlin argues.

It doesn’t make me think any differently. “I don’t like what they’re saying, but they’re going to say worse things if I fire back. Alex is taking care of it.”

He’d made a post online telling people to stop in much more colorful words that left little interpretation. I’m not sure what the results were because I refused to look.

“WhereisAlex?” Skylar asks.

“At a team meeting,” I say, curling deeper into the bed. The mattress called to me as soon as he left. He pressed a kiss against my temple and told me he’d be back in a few hours. I could have gone and explored the stadium or city, but I didn’t want to.

Everything feels heavy, making the only thing I want to do is sleep. And I would be by now if the girls hadn’t called me fromSkylar’s place since I ignored their slew of messages after social media deemed me some jersey chasing troll. I haven’t even called my mom back after seeing her missed call and voicemail.

“He left you alone?” Berlin demands.

“I wanted to be left alone,” I defend. “Look. I’m kind of tired. If it makes you feel any better, my mother left me a voicemail saying she’d “open a can of whoop ass” on the media. She was proud of herself.”

“As she should be,” Berlin muses.

Bentley wails, and Skylar’s comforting coos try to shush him. “We’ll let you go. But remember that it’s okay not to be okay. We’re human. Anybody in your shoes would be upset if they were being talked about like that. We both know that I didn’t take well to people making comments about me around campus.”

I felt so bad for her when her former roommate and so-called “friends” were spreading rumors about her our freshman year. It’d made her first year at Lindon hell. At least, it wasoneof the things that made it hell. I’m glad we found each other when we did. I’m not sure either of us would have survived this long otherwise.

“We love you,” Berlin adds, “and we want you to be happy.”

AmI happy? I’m with the boy I can’t stop thinking about, who’s willing to go to war for me over internet warriors. But there’s a piece of me that feels burdened by my brother’s cold shoulder since his call yesterday. I hurt him, and I feel guilty.

“I am,” I tell them anyway, hoping to believe it one day. “Maybe not this second, but I’m happy. And Iwillbe okay. I come home on Sunday.”

“Girls’ night?” Skylar suggests.

“Ooooh! I’ll bring wine!” Berlin squeals.

I want to tell them no.

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