Page 22 of You, with a View

“Yeah, bye,” I mutter, taking one last look at his annoyingly beautiful ass. “Hopefully for good this time.”

Seven

Dude, you have to give the people what they want.”

I squint against the sunlight beaming behind Thomas’s head. “What are you talking about?”

On the other side of me, Sadie says, “Your TikTok is still going off. Thomas has been watching it obsessively.”

I sigh, turning my gaze back to the sky. Thomas and Sadie drove up to Glenlake for dinner, and we decided to take a walk while my parents cooked and danced around the kitchen like moony teenagers. We stopped at the neighborhood park, where we’re now stretched out on the grass side by side. Thomas is on his stomach, head propped on his arms, while Sadie’s on her back next to me, her fingers loosely twined with mine.

I’m grateful for their company. It’s been two days since my visit with Paul, and even after updating them on everything I’ve learned, my mind is still spinning.

“I had to turn my notifications off,” I admit. “My phone kept overheating.”

“People want an update,” Thomas says, laying his cheek on his forearm, his gaze sharp on me. “You need to tell them you found the guy and you know his grandson. Someone said, ‘if you don’t give us an update I will literally die.’ They’re gonnadie, Beans. Come on.”

“That’s not my fault!” I laugh as Sadie squeezes my hand, her shoulder shaking against mine.

He props up on his elbows. “You’re sitting on a gold mine. When people find out the grandson is your old nemesis, they’re going to lose their shit. Do you know how many fifteen-year-olds wish they had this clout? You can’t waste it.”

“TikTok was a onetime deal. I got what I needed out of it. There’s no reason to continue, even if someone’s threatening death by curiosity.” I pause. “Relatable, though.”

He’s quiet for all of three seconds. “Weren’t you using TikTok to show your photography?”

Immediately, I picture the videos I put together, little montages of shots I took on random weekends, set to some indie song. “Kind of, I guess. I mean, not in any serious way.”

Thomas snorts. “Yeah, that’s the theme there, huh?”

“Mas,” Sadie warns softly.

I whip my head toward him. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re afraid to fail at something you really love to do, so you’ve barely put any effort into it.”

“I don’t know if you remember this, but I did, in fact, already fail at something I love to do.”

“No,” he insists. “Enzo was a dick who was wrong about you, and you believed his bullshit. I’m telling you, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Maybe if you keep going, it’ll help you get more attention with your photography.”

I gnaw at my lip, my heart beating hopefully against my ribs. It doesn’t have the common sense my brain does, and pushing against it with my fingers isn’t slowing it down.

“If you’re going to keep seeing them, you should do it, Noelle,” Sadie says quietly. “It might be kind of cool to document this whole thing on video as you go. Since that’s how it started, you know?”

“Exactly,” Thomas says. “And listen, if it’ll give you confidence about your photography—whichisgreat, by the way—then even better.”

“All your compliments are freaking me out, please stop.”

He grins, hearing thethank youburied there.

Would people be into it? Would they care about what’s happened since that first video, follow me on whatever path this takes me down?

“Besides, what else do you have going on? You’re unemployed. You have all the time in the world to do this.”

“Back on familiar ground,” I mutter.

He marches on. “Honestly, what you really should do is go on Gram’s honeymoon trip and documentthat. People would lose it; you’d get some free promotion. Ride that viral wave.”

I blink over at him. The voice that whispered to me when I saw the map won’t quiet down, and now I wonder if Thomas heard it, too.

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