Page 16 of The Emerson Effect
Insane.
Swallowing thickly, I clench my molars together and tap the icon to initiate a video chat. It rings once, and suddenly, Emerson’s face fills my screen.
“Hey,” he says on a breath that almost sounds relieved. “Thanks for calling.”
“Hey,” I reply, trying to hold still even though my skin is prickling with nerves.
He smiles, and I try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. Why is this so awkward? I feel like I know him through his videos, but at the same time, do I? I know his persona. I knowThe Emerson Effect. Not Emerson, the man.
But he doesn’t really know me, either. We’re in the same boat, riding this wave together as we try to decide if his big idea is really doable.
“What’s your last name?” I blurt when the silence between us becomes unbearable.
One corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk as he says, “House. My real name is Emerson House.”
“My real name is actually Twila Greene,” I say, trying not to blurt my thoughts.
Our hyphenated name would be “Greene-House.”
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.
Emerson chuckles as if he’s read my thoughts, but doesn’t say anything about our ridiculous name compatibility. He just launches into his pitch.
“So, here’s what I was thinking. I’ll post a few more videos over the next couple of weeks or so hinting that I have a secret crush. I’ll add in Easter eggs like I did with the margarita––things that could possibly tie back to you but only if people put in the work to investigate. Most of it will be for hindsight when we finally confirm it’s you and me.”
“Like what? I ask, intrigued.
“I’m not exactly sure, yet, but I was thinking I could put a product you promote in the background. Or maybe I could wear a shirt that matches one you’ve worn. Use a sound you’ve used in one of our videos. Just little things like that.”
I nod slowly, and taking it as an agreement, he goes on.
“Eventually, you can duo or tack one of the videos. Or you can make your own, indicating that you accept my pursuit, and I can duo it. I’m not sure which will work best, but we can decide that when the time comes. Then we’ll take some time to flirt back and forth in videos before we eventually meet. By then, the viewers will be frothing at the mouth for content of us together.”
I nod again, almost convinced. He’s obviously put some thought into this plan, and it feels like it could work. It’s risky, sure, but viable.
But at the same time, we don’t really know each other. We could be completely incompatible and unable to make a relationship between us believable. We could come across as utterly cringeworthy.
At the same time, maybe we could pull it off. And if we do, the rewards would far outweigh the risks. It could change both our lives.
I just don’t know what to do.
TEN
Emerson
I have to fight to keep my knee from bouncing as I wait for Twila to respond. I’m nervous as hell that she’ll laugh in my face, reject the plan, and tell me to never contact her again. But she’s not laughing. She looks like she’s thinking really hard, and her eyebrows are twitching in the most endearing way.
I offer her an encouraging smile, but I don’t speak, giving her the time she needs to make this decision. I’m fighting the instinct to try to convince her because I’ve got a strong feeling that she’ll see any further effort as some sort of strong-arming.
I want this really badly, but I wantherto want it, too. To see what a great idea it is and go all in.
Finally, she takes a deep breath and nods slowly as she says, “It seems like a viable idea, but there’s one problem.”
“What is it?” I ask, ignoring the excitement coursing through me.
I’m getting through to her.
“What happens when and if people figure out we’re faking? Shit like this always seems to come out. Some thread of proof liars miss that ends up being their downfall. We’d be ruined, Emerson.”
