25
Heart Emoji
When I got home, I strutted to my bedroom and hung the red mesh dress in the closet. It was a magnificent, wearable trophy of the day Zack Turner and I became a team. With a triumphant smile, I turned on my heel and grabbed some cleaning supplies. Something about the day had invigorated me. We were going to be sensational. I could feel it in my bones.
I cleaned the apartment and rearranged the lighting for future hangouts and filming. Everything was going to be perfect. My fingers itched to post our protein shake video. However, I’d promised Zack to soft launch his family into our relationship without the suggestion of PDA.
I propped my phone on my vanity and watched some reality shows while I washed up for my bedtime routine. Those people were effortless in front of the camera, dramatic and entertaining. Zack and I were fine in that capacity. It was the family-friendly content and his aversion to smiling at my phone that were holding us up. Maybe I could sneak in a candid. Something that said something about him and his personality.
High-school-Zack merged with adult-Zack in my brain, forming an imaginary reel of my ‘beefcake’ playing touch football in the park with his friends. He’d wear bright green shorts and a white tee with tasteful finger-printed dirt stains possibly caused by me.
Only he didn’t play anymore. Plus, there was still snow on the ground. Adult-Zack liked other stuff, I just had to play into that.
I texted my fake boyfriend.
That was too long to wait. We had to ride our New Year’s Eve video’s popularity, push the algorithms, and keep posting.
He didn’t respond right away, so I presumed he was checking his schedule.
I sat on my mattress and took a video of me putting lotion on my feet amid Egyptian cotton sheets with the caption, “Healing up fast thanks to all the love
Why was my ex messaging me at one o’clock in the morning?
Oh no.That kind of message meant he wanted to hook up or talk. He’d probably been emboldened by my blatant staring at the mall.
I groaned and silenced my phone. Theo had his Zeezy’s, and I had my…branding. We didn’t need to have a heart-to-heart in the middle of the night. Or ever. Part of me was tempted to ask him if Bigfoot had fallen asleep already.
I rolled over and grit my teeth. Two years. Now, we were nothing.
Or a potential booty call, apparently. I thought he’d at least be conscious of the fact that Zack could beat him up or prevent him from performing at that bar again. Not that I was rooting for him to enact my vengeance in that way. But if he did…
I sighed.
He probably wouldn’t. Zack was too much of a gentleman. He was too classy to do a lot of stuff, I imagined. He wouldn't cheat. Rubbing my feet together, I glanced at my phone. He probably wouldn’t date a girl like me. Except, for now, he was. Hypothetically. The next few months, we were committed to being happy, no matter how classy, funny, or embarrassing we were privately. Hopefully, he’d text me back.
I curled my hands into fists to staunch the adrenaline pounding in my veins, and eventually, I managed a restless sort of sleep.
By the time I trudged to the shoe desk the next day, Andre was pacing near the show window.
“Hey. You’re late,” he said.
By what, two minutes? I’d clocked in one minute past the hour, and part of that time was waiting for everyone else to scan in from lunch. “Traffic,” I said. I sipped from my thermos.
He wobbled his head with condescension. “You still had time to get coffee.”
