Page 57 of The Wild Card
But each of these examples is a situation or circumstance where I feelsafe.
Acting has never required bravery because I’m not beingmeup on a stage. I’m pretending to be someone else, which feels like wearing a layer of protective armor.
It’s similar with social media. Before I even shared my first post, I heard a podcast talking about creating your online persona—not a fake personality but just a sliver of who you are so you’re not putting your whole self or whole life out there. It’s an intentional choosing of what to share and what not to share. Best advice I ever got.
My posts are carefully curated and don’t stray outside the lines I drew for myself. People might think they know me, but they only know a tiny piece. They see the real Molly—but notallof Molly.
To put myself out there in a real, personal way makes me sweat. Literally. Armpits, the backs of my knees, my neck and lower back—everywhere. Chase says this sweating thing happens to him too, so maybe it’s genetic. For me to make myself vulnerable, I need a good reason.
Sheer desperation to avoid going home gave me the ammunition to approach Collin at the fair. But now, I have a different motivation—one having little to do with me and everything to do with Collin Graham.
I didnotmean to eavesdrop.
Not at first, anyway.
The guy behind the bar told me I could find Collin out back, giving me nothing more than a vague wave toward the outdoor patio. It's more on the side of the building and I didn’t see Collin, so I walked through the crowd drinking and eating, past the food trucks, until I got to what had to be the back of the building. The string of lights and potted plants were a dead giveaway.
But it was dark back there, and no one heard me approaching. I had every intention of announcing my presence before interrupting what sounded like a few people talking, but then Collin launched into what I’ll call the Tale of the Terrible Ex.
I was hooked. Frozen just out of sight, I could not resist listening. I didn’t mean to listen toallof it. But he just kept going. And going. This Liza person really did a number on Collin, and I totally matched Winnie’s angry energy when he was done.
Poor Collin.
The same man who stepped up when I needed a totally ridiculous favor even when he knew me and knewI’dforgottenhim. The man who carried me out of Wolf’s bar, tended to my feet, and made sure I didn’t wake up with a splitting headache.
He’s a good, decent guy. A handsome one. A funny one. From what I understand, also a wealthy one. Not that I care so much about that, other than the security attached to it.
My point is—this Liza person must be a real piece of work to ignore all that in order to treat Collin so very badly. Stealing from him? Slandering him on social media?
Call me president of the Liza Sucks Club. Or since I’d rather not even say her name, I’ll be the president of the Collin Graham Fan Club.
Who am I kidding—he probably already has one of those.
All I know for sure is that by the time I marched around those potted plants to interrupt the conversation, I came armed with a boldness stemming from an almost visceral desire to help the man who had already done so much for me.
Is there a tiny smidge of self-serving in there? Yes. Being the pretend girlfriend of Collin has so far proved to be really funandhelped me land a job. But I’m not doing this because of the job or because I really like being around Collin. Those are like bonuses.
They are the tiniest of pieces in a piemostlymade up of wanting to do something good for the man who did so much for me.
So, ignoring the uncomfortable sweating—is myscalpeven sweating?—I made my bold statement as soon as Winnie and James left. Well. As soon as James’s screams over the raccoons stopped.
And now I’m second-guessing the whole thing.
Because Collin hasn’t said a word in response. I know time can do funny things in significant moments. In one of my earlydrama classes, the teacher had us each stand up on stage and try to guess when two minutes was up. Though she obviously couldn’t track this, she told us we couldn’t silently count. Every single person called for time before even a minute had passed.
I’m sure this silence onlyfeelslong.
Interminable, really. I have half a mind to take my offer back, jump up, and run down the alley to team up with the trash pandas.
But I’ve already taken too many risks to back down from this one. Even if humiliation is growing like an ache in my belly. There’s a healthy dose of self-consciousness too because … am I really so bad that being my pretend boyfriend sounds like such an awful idea?
Finally, when I’m about two seconds shy of bolting, Collin clears his throat and shifts in his chair. His eyes, almost navy in the low light, meet mine briefly, then flit away.
“You think this is a good idea?” Collin’s tone is carefully neutral, making it impossible to know what he’s feeling.
I give a short laugh. “Good? No. That’s not the word I’d use.”
A tiny smile tugs at his lips. He appears to be fighting it. “Then how would you describe it, Molly-girl?”
