Page 114 of Deep In Love
My brain spins in disbelief at the gesture.
The time it must have taken to go through each one…there werethousands.
He flips his phone around and scrolls through his camera roll where he’s screenshotted each positive response and blacked out everything else. We make it through about ten—all comments about how interesting my research is, or how I’m a role model for young girls interested in science—before I begin to cry.
Fat tears stream down my cheeks as I read each one.
“I didn’t take the video down,” he says, “but I disabled the commenting on all of my posts and shared a video to let my viewers know how disappointed I am. I started my channel to have fun, not to tear down bright, hard-working women.”
I take the phone from his hand, scrolling through, when I pause on one full of vulgar language and threats.
“I hope you choke on your tiny penis.” I read it out loud and look at Jett, baffled how this is a kind comment.
First of all, they got my anatomy incorrect. Second, if I had a penis, it would not be small. It would be the biggest schlong the world has ever seen. I would win awards and sling it around.
“Oh, that’s Vivian. She responded to hundreds of comments before I told her to stop.”
A choked laugh escapes as I read her other responses.
Can you even legally drive, considering how blind you are?
^^^This translates to “I’m an asshole with nothing else to do than tear down incredible women who wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
If having a horrible personality was an Olympic sport, you would have a gold medal.
“This is…” Words fail me. “Thank you, Jett.”
The tears continue to roll as I read through each one, letting the words burrow into the marrow of my bones and heal a little of what’s been broken, the fissures slowly mending back together.
“You made her cryagain?” a shrill voice screams from the end of the hallway.
Vivian barrels into me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders in a brutal yet comforting hug. Sofía joins from the other side, and after a moment of confusion, Jett completes the sandwich hug.
“I didn’t make her cry. She did it on her own,” Jett grumbles.
“She didn’t spontaneously burst into tears,” Sofía counters. “What did you do?”
Jett releases me from the hug to stare down at Sofía. She folds her arms over her chest, half a foot shorter than him, but holds her ground as they participate in a charged face-off.
“Why do you always assume I’m the cause of the chaos?” Jett asks. She levels him with a look that screamsbe fucking for real. “I showed her all the kind comments on the video. Erasing the bad with good.”
“Oh.” Her brow furrows, and when she looks back at Jett, there’s something questioning in her gaze, like she’s surprised by the gesture.
“He also showed me Vivian’s responses,” I add.
“Herwhat?” Sofía asks, running to my side to see the phone.
“I also posted a very heated response video, but it only got sixty views,” Vivian says, leaning over my shoulder to read her replies. “Oh, that’s a good one.”
“We tried to come to your room yesterday,” Sofía whispers, low enough so Jett doesn’t hear, “after we heard about the video, but you were a bit…occupied.”
“You were gettingfucked,” Vivian amends.
It takes a few seconds for the words to settle, but when they do, my face flames to a million degrees and my hands fly to cover the mortification written on my face.
We couldn’t have been that loud, could we?
The looks on their faces tell me we accidentally put on a show for anyone who walked by in the hallway.
