Page 29 of The Emerson Effect
It’s fine. That thought doesn’t bother me at all.
I’m fine with it. Everything isfine.
SIXTEEN
Emerson
Twila’s newest video istwo hours long. Okay, fine. It’s only about twenty seconds, but I’ve watched it about three-hundred-sixty times since she posted it this morning. Hence, the two hours.
Each of my roommates has asked me what I’m watching on my phone throughout the day, and, hiding the screen so they won’t see the truth, I just told them I was doing research for my next reaction video.
Yeah, I’m a dirty, dirty liaranda creepy stalker. This is my life, now.
But damn if I can help it.
Twila knew what she was doing when she posted that masterpiece. She tagged a swimwear company, so I can only assume they produced the bathing suit she’s wearing in the video. She’s trying to get their attention so they’ll offer her a deal.
And if the numbers are any indication, she gotallof BingBang’s attention. Plus, you know, three-hundred-sixty views from me. Make that three-hundred-sixty-one, because I’m watching it again.
Twila is stomping through ankle-deep water, her mouth open with joyous laughter as she looks at the camera. She kicks forward, spraying water in an upward arc before spinning and running back toward the sandy beach. She tumbles to the sand, stretching out on her back as the camera hovers over her, then she kisses her fingertips before waggling the Hawaiian sign for “hang loose.”
God damn.
For a while today, I considered heading down to the beach and filming a reaction video to make it look like I was there with her, but I decided against it. It’s obviously important to Twila to score a deal withBreezy Baywear,and I don’t want to interfere by making her video seem like a joke. And if I tried to do a serious duo or tack, well, viewers would see it as proof she’s my secret crush, and we’re not quite ready for that.
As I watch the video again––don’t judge me––I wonder not for the first time who is filming her. One of her friends? A boyfriend?
No. If Twila had a boyfriend, she would’ve mentioned it as a major roadblock when I first proposed this whole scheme. It must be one of her friends.
I close the app and set my phone on the couch beside me. I need to stop before karma spontaneously tattoos the word “creeper” on my forehead. I take a sip from my water bottle as Ritchie glides into the room.
As he heads for the kitchen, he asks, “Bruh, did you see Twila’s new video?”
I cough, but somehow manage not to spew water across the room. Once I swallow it down, I squeeze my eyes shut and answer Ritchie.
“Yeah. I saw it.”
“She ishot,” he says with a laugh as he leaves the kitchen with his own bottle of water and heads in my direction, plopping down on the couch beside me.
A wave of possessiveness so strong, I can barely contain it almost forces me to snap at him to keep his eyes to himself.
Woah, man. Rein it in. She’s not your girlfriend, and even if she was, that reaction is way over the top.
“Yeah, I think she’s trying to score a deal with the swimwear company,” I say, proud that I kept my voice even.
“They’d be smart to hire her,” he says.
“Yeah,” I say, but the word comes out breathy and slightly irritated.
“You okay, man?” Ritchie asks, and I blow out a long breath.
“Yeah, I’ve just got a lot going on,” I say, tapping a finger against my temple. “I need to come up with some new videos, and they can’tallbe about my secret crush.”
“Okay,” he says, then slaps the back of his hand against my thigh before standing. “Let me know if you need any help.”
“Thanks,” I say, and he nods before heading back upstairs to his room.
A few seconds later, I push myself to my feet. I need to get out of here for a while. The twins already left for their shift at the bar they both work for, and Ritchie will be heading there later. I’ll be staying home tonight, I think. I’m not feeling the bar scene, tonight, but I do need to get out of this house for a while.
