He laughed and then got a serious expression. “What is real, Eliza?”
“Don’t you use that creepy Morpheus voice on me,” she said, sending him a look of warning. She stood and tucked the card into her pocket, shaking her head. “This has been the weirdest day.”
He stood, too, arms crossed but an easy expression on his face. “Weird isn’t always bad, right?”
She looked up at him, a wash of gratitude moving through her. Beckham had no reason to help her, no reason to risk himself by getting that video taken down, no reason to offer her assistance with her analog project—but he had. She resisted hugging him again. “Weird isn’t always bad. Thanks for what you did with the video and for everything else. Honestly, I feel a hundred times better than I did an hour ago. I owe you.”
He tucked his hands in his back pockets. “You don’t owe me a thing. I wanted to do this. I’m still trying to talk myself out of sending that idiot a virus.”
She bit her lip, tempted all over again, and then shook her head. “Not worth it. I don’t want you to get in any trouble on my behalf.”
“As if I’d get caught.” He gave her a playfully devious look. “One penis enhancement email to his inbox, and I bet he’d click it in a heartbeat.”
“Ha. I have no doubt, but you’ve done more than enough.” She headed toward his door and he followed her. “I’ll be spending the rest of my day setting up my accounts with detox announcements and cleaning up any more collateral damage from the video. I at least like having a plan.”
He gave her a little mock salute when they reached the door. “Godspeed, my friend.”
Friend.She put her hand on the doorjamb, meeting his eyes. “I’m glad we get to be friends now.”
His gaze softened. “Me too, Eli.”
With that, she turned and went into her office, nervous but filled with purpose.
She hadn’t lied to Beckham when she told him she wasn’t going to document this experiment on a blog, but sheneededthis book. If she was going to last six months without social media, internet dating, and YouTube videos, she needed a project to focus on. She’d learned that having goals to be excited about was vital to her own mental health. A new project was the only thing that had gotten her out of bed again after losing her parents—launching her YouTube wellness channel. Plus, maybe the results of this new goal would eventually help other people, too. She wanted to put something good out into the world.
If Beckham thought that was some kind of performance, oh well. He didn’t have to know she was writing the book.
After she closed the door to her office, she found herself gravitating toward her computer. Instead of opening her social media accounts or looking for more comments about Ryan’s video, she opened up a blank Word document and began to type.
Untitled Book Because Titles Are Hard
By Eliza Catalano
Chapter 1
The Shame & Blame
Day 1: On Friday morning, I woke up with a hangover and more than a hundred notifications on my phone…