Page 363 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
An hour later, Summer bursts into my room holding her phone.
“He posted them! The photos are live!” She looks down at her phone. “Oh my gosh, Audrey. You look so gorgeous.”
“I do not,” I say even as I put down my book and scoot closer to the edge of my bed. “You can’t even see my face.”
“But look at your hair!” Summer says. “And your back looks amazing.”
I push up on my knees and look over her shoulder. “My back looks like a back. There’s nothing amazing about a back.”
“Sure there is. No weird rashes or bulges. You look good.”
“Let me see,” Lucy says, pushing into the room. “My phone just died so I can’t pull it up.” She pulls Summer’s phone out of her hands. “Ohhh, you do look good. And look! Already ten thousand likes.”
Ten thousand likes. He posted the picture minutes ago, and it already has ten thousand likes.
“What do the comments say?” Lucy says.
“No! Don’t read the comments. Flint says I shouldn’t.”
“I’ll only read the good ones out loud,” Summer says as she starts to scroll. I scoot back on my bed and lean against the headboard, pulling my pillow tightly to my chest. I watch as Summer’s eyes dart back and forth over the screen. I shouldn’t be curious. I know better than to be curious. But I can’t help it.
“Ohhh, listen to this one.” She clears her throat. “‘WHAT? Flint Hawthorne is off the market? Crying for the rest of my life.’”
“How about this one?” Lucy says. “‘Did Claire McKinsey dye her hair brown? Could they actually be back together? #clairandflint’”
“Umm, we hatethathashtag,” Summer says.
“Wait, they think I’m Claire?” Flint and I didn’t talk about that potential assumption, but it makes sense. You can’t see my face.If the woman in his pictures could be anyone, why not Claire McKinsey?
“He makes it clear in the caption he’s with someone from home,” Lucy says. “And there are already a billion replies to that one comment saying it’s absolutelynotClaire in the photo.”
Still, I feel like Flint needs to know evenoneperson is making the assumption. I grab my phone from where it’s charging on the nightstand and send him a quick text.
Audrey:So, I know you said not to read the comments, and I’m not. But my sisters are, and they say people are speculating about whether the woman in the photos is Claire. Is that a reason to worry?
His response comes through almost immediately.
Flint:People will speculate about everything. But we’ve added an element of doubt. That should be enough to keep the story under control.
Audrey:Okay. I won’t worry if you aren’t worried.
Flint:I’m not worried.
Flint:But Audrey? Don’t even let your sisters read the comments.
Audrey:Clearly, you don’t know my sisters.
Flint:Then don’t let them read any of them to you. Promise me?
I look up at my sisters who are both staring at Summer’s phone like vultures hovering over a dead raccoon on the highway.
“Okay,” I say. “Time for bed.” I stand up and usher them toward the door.
“No, no, wait, you need to hear this one!”
“I don’t need to hear anything,” I say. “I promised Flint I wouldn’t read them, and that means not letting you read them either. At least not to me.” Well, Iwillpromise Flint. Just as soon as my sisters have left me alone.
Summer clutches her phone to her chest. “He made you promise? That’s so sweet.”
