Page 356 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“The man in the photo is telling youI’m fine,” I lie. “Now, can you please send me Audrey’s number so I can text her these photos and make sure she approves?”
Joni’s eyebrows shoot up. “You already have it. It’s in the text message you sentme.”
Oh. Right.I scroll through the message thread between me and Joni. “Geez. We text a lot.”
“Your life needs a lot ofmanaging,” she says. “You do know if you text her, she’ll haveyournumber, right?”
“And I trust her with it. It’s fine. I told her I’d text her before I posted the pictures.”
I don’t fault Joni for being cautious. It’s her job to protect my privacy—to be wary of anyone who gets close to me. But I’m not worried about Audrey.
“Here, stop scrolling. I’ll just send it to you.” Joni pulls out her phone. Seconds later, mine vibrates with an incoming message sharing Audrey’s contact information. “Okay. Done.” She grabs her bag off the bar stool beside her. “Let me know if there’s anything Simon needs me to do once the pictures go live.” She moves toward the front door, and I follow her. “Have you talked to your family about this yet?”
Oof. My family.I knew there was something I was forgetting. I grimace. “Not yet. But I will.”
“Before you post the pictures, Flint. You know your mom follows your Instagram. She’ll lose her mind if she sees those pictures and you haven’t explained to her what’s really going on. She’ll be knitting new baby blankets before the end of the week.”
“I get it. I’ll call her.” She opens the front door, and I look past her into the fading evening light. “Where’s Nate? Is he really making you walk home by yourself?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s not even fully dark yet. And what’s going to get me? A white squirrel?”
“How about a bear?”
She pulls a can of bear spray out of her purse. “What do you take me for? It’s less than a hundred yards to my house, Flint. I’ll be fine.” She steps off the porch and starts down the driveway. “Call your mom!” she yells over her shoulder before she gets too far away. “I mean it, Flint.”
I give her one last wave before moving back into my very empty house. It’s not that my house in Malibu was any less empty. I lived alone there, too. But it’s hard to evertrulyfeel alone when you live in Southern California. A hundred steps outside my front door in any direction, and I could find people, whether I wanted to or not.
Solitude means something entirely different out here.
I use my phone to turn on some music then drop onto my living room sofa. I call my mom first and talk her through thesituation with Audrey, including all my reasons for deciding a charade is necessary in the first place.
Mom is, as I expected her to be, hesitant to think pretending is ever a good idea, but we still end the conversation on a good note. “I trust you, Flint,” she says. “If this is what you need to do, then do it. But be careful, all right? I don’t want either of you getting hurt. Though, I can’t say I’d mind if you happened to fall in love for real.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say. “I’ll keep you posted.”
I text Olivia and give her a quick update, then I pull up Audrey’s number and create a new message. Nerves jump in my gut as I scroll through the pictures, picking out the best ones. Actually, the best ones are the ones where I can see Audrey’s face, but I can’t post those, so those are just for me.
I finally decide on three, one of Audrey looking out at the mountains, and two more of the two of us together, including the one that Joni thought was such a big deal. If I’m going to really sell this, that picture is my best bet. I send them over, adding a message after all three photos go through.
Flint:What do you think? Are you okay with me posting these?
I tap my phone nervously against my palm, then send one more message.
Flint:Hope it’s okay that I’m texting instead of Joni.
Flint:I figured that would be easier considering all the time we’re about to spend together.
I sit and stare at my phone for what feels like an hour but probably isn’t more than a few minutes. Either way, Audrey doesn’t respond.
I double check the number, making sure I didn’t mess it up somehow when I saved it into my phone, but the numbers all match.
I’m being stupid. Just because she hasn’t responded doesn’t mean shewon’trespond. She could be away from her phone. On a walk. Taking a shower. Watching a movie with her sisters. Ornotwatching a movie—this is Audrey we’re talking about—but there are a hundred different reasons why she might not be available to respond immediately.
Also, when did I become so insecure about a woman texting me back?
What even is this?
Grumbling, I pull up the ongoing text thread I’ve shared with my brothers as long as we’ve all had cell phones. One of them is bound to respond right away and clearly, I could use the distraction.
