“Are your books popular? Do other people read them, I mean?” TJ’s question stirs me from my dark thoughts.
I think about the call I got from Cassie telling me my third book hit the best-seller list, and I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. People do, or at least they did.”
Confusion mars his features. “What does that mean? They don’t now?”
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to give my readers something new.” I shrug. “I’ve barely written anything since what happened at the People’s Picks.”
He frowns. “Why’s that?”
“Because I told everyone that being entertained was worthless, and here I am, making my living on books that literally entertain people. I feel like a fraud.”
TJ leans back, studying me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I chuckle, but it’s mirthless. “What else is there to say?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t really discussed it, you and me.”
“That’s because I’m ashamed.”
There’s an unreadable expression on his face. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asks after a moment.
I flick my wrist, gesturing for him to go ahead. I’m bracing for him to tell me I’m a huge jerk and that he can’t believe a person could be as condescending as I was up on that stage.
“I actually thought what you said was pretty great.”
Wait.I replay his words and suck in a breath. “You’re lying.”
“Nope. Cross my heart … again,” he adds.
I shake my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was entitled and belittling and the worst.” I could quote that comment section all day and all night.
He tips his head back and forth like he’s considering this. “But you were also overwhelmed and mortified at what was going on. I’m sure that impacted how things went down.”
I suck in a breath. How can he read meso well? “How do you know that?”
“I may have watched the video a couple of times since meeting you.” He looks sheepish.
My face flushes. “How many times is a couple?”
“A couple dozen.”
“TJ! I’m mortified.” I hide my face in a pillow.
“Don’t be! I’ve studied the film, as any good football player would. I’ve broken it down and assessed your posture and your expression and your words, and you know what I keep coming back to? Youdidsomething, Lu. You said something. You acted. Not many people can say they would have stood up and faced something head-on. But you did. You were in a public pressure cooker situation, so maybe you came off patronizing, but I don’t think what you said was all that off base.”
I gape at him. I haven’t talked out loud about this at all. I cried a lot to Cassie and Philly and Bex in the early days. I told them how sorry I was if I offended them, and they helped me sort through my life and figure out my next steps, but as far as getting into the nitty-gritty of what I said and what I meant? I haven’t really gone there … with anyone.
“The thing is,” I say, summoning my courage and hoping for the right words to say what I mean without sticking my foot in my mouth. “I do stand by what I said. Most of what I said,” I amend. “I definitely shouldn’t have told my sisters and everyone that they didn’t matter or called the masses stupid. That was wrong of me, and I fully own that. Everyone matters. But—I don’t know—people get so caught up in social media or entertainment or sports.” I wince. “Sorry.”
“No, keep talking.”
I take a deep breath. “Or books.” I point at myself, to show him I understand that I’m a part of this narrative, too. A big part. “Whatever the fixation, in our society of materialism and comfort and consumerism, what we’re fanatical over becomes our entire lives, but that’s not how it’s meant to be. That’s not what we’re put on this earth for.”
I close my eyes and blink them open, trying to gauge his reaction. TJ stares at me, but he doesn’t look offended or put off, just curious and attentive.
