Page 36 of Texts From My Exes
“I think the news? Things must be slow if they’re here first thing in the morning and you must have goneviralviral if the news is here to interview you, creepy if you ask me.”
That had her jumping to her feet like the fires of hell were licking at her ankles. She padded into the living room, hair pointing in all directions, still wearing the t-shirt she’d slept in. One look at my face and her shoulders sagged. Was that relief or was it just in preparation to take on more stress?
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” she said.
I handed her my phone. She scrolled, her eyes widening as the sheer scale of the disaster lit up her screen.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “They hate me.”
“They don’t hate you,” I said, even though some of the comments definitely read like hate. “They’re… curious.” Lame, I could have come up with something better but I was internally losing my shit too. It was all over for me. My job would never be the same, protecting her would look different, her keeping her apartment was paramount as well now and it would all be in the public eye, if anyone said we weren’t dating or that I didn’t have some random nickname like Vex, she was done for. Nobody could find out it was staged or that I stepped in or that she made Vex up, that was the most important thing for now.
Her eyes snapped up to mine. “Curious aboutyou. I’m just the idiot who uploaded it.”
“You’re not an idiot.” I hesitated. “But we are going to have to get ahead of this somehow, you still have two dates left, I clearly spent the night last night meaning I think I won? Even though I didn’t really win if you get my meaning? Does that mean you already cheated on the other two guys? See, if I have questions, they’ll have questions.”
“Gahhhhh! Stop talking! And how do we even begin to do damage control here?”
I glanced toward the locked door, the muffled voices outside, the endless scroll of my tagged photos. “By making them continue to believe I’m Vex, and I stayed over, and I used to also be a famous YouTuber who went into hiding and used that name to,” I made a face. “Seduce you? I don’t know, you’re not very seducible and you’re used to me in glasses with a laptop in front of my face.”
Her brows drew together. “Cool story, bro.” She smacked me on the back of the head. “We need to come up with something better, for now, we just don’t talk.”
“We tell the semi truth.” I said. “That we’re dating. For real.” The words felt heavier once they were out in the air. I wishedit was the truth that we were confessing something we already knew.
Her eyes narrowed. “Really? So we say we’re dating and or seeing how things are going before my final two dates and then what? I mean how long do we go on with this ruse? A week? Two? What does the contract for inheriting the apartment even dictate again? The last thing we need is to be caught in a lie.” I leave out that my feelings aren’t a lie, that it wouldn’t be a lie for me.
I nodded like I had a plan. I didnothave a plan. My pulse was already pounding, and the knot in my chest hadn’t unclenched since I woke up. “I’ll look into it, all we have to worry about is just continuing doing what we’re doing, I mean the only outlier is, surprise, me? I guess?”
I hadn’t thought this through. Not the paparazzi. Not the internet. Not the way Harper was looking at me like she was deciding between agreeing or murdering me in my sleep. I truly didn’t think they’d notice but I figure reminding her of that again wasn’t the right thing to do or say.
My phone rang again, and I swore under my breath when I saw the name. It could be worse.
“Bro.” My brother’s voice came through loud and smug. “Is it eulogy time, or am I interrupting your romantic comedy subplot?”
“Not a great time,” I muttered, pacing toward the kitchen.
“Too bad. Why the hell did yourejuvenatea career you already killed before switching colleges? The boys think your ability to playTitanicon the piano is epic, by the way. And the fact that Celine Dionherselfcommented on it? Insane.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Not helping.”
“Oh, I’m not done,” he continued cheerfully. “My personal favorite was when you dressed up like a T-Rex and greeted thatfan at the airport. You never saw that punch coming. I betsheregrets it to this day. Shit on the internet never dies, bro.”
I leaned against the counter, staring at Harper’s silhouette in the other room. She was scrolling on her phone, like last night, her shoulders tight. The sight twisted something in me all over again.
“Say ‘hi’ to Harper for me,” my brother added. “The wife says her dress last night was killer. Also that you looked like you wanted to eat her out of it. Gross, honey?—”
A female voice in the background, muffled but laughing:Sorry! Hormones again!
I hung up before he could keep going.
When I looked back toward the living room, Harper was still staring at her phone like she was reading her own obituary. Was she even blinking?
“They’re tearing me apart,” she said quietly.
I crossed the room and took the phone from her, setting it down on the coffee table. “They don’t know you,” I said. “And you don’t owe them anything.”
She lifted her eyes to mine, searching my face. “So why do I feel like I’m about to owe themeverything?”
My chest tightened. I didn’t have an answer. Just the sudden, choking certainty that if she got burned in this, it was going to be my fault.
