I couldn’t agree more. “It was pretty amazing.” At least I didn’t have to fake that.
“I texted Jenessa like immediately. She told me to get that video up ASAP because, seriously, you two are going to go so viral over this whole AI-to-real-boyfriend thing. You’ll probably get sponsors.”
“Sponsors? Sponsors for what?”
“For your social media, silly. Your accounts have over 100K followers now. Haven’t you checked your inbox? You probably already have offers from companies wanting to give you free stuff.”
I was afraid to look.
Claire kept prattling on, and I let her. It was easier to listen as we found seats on the bleachers. A few parents were there to watch. Some stragglers from school who didn’t really care about baseball, let alone tryouts, but were bored, and then, of course, all the guys who were trying out for the team.
“My older sister was able to get her accounts over 40K, and she had companies sending her cool stuff like water bottles, sportswear, and one company even offered to give her a horse—like a real horse. My parents told her no, but I mean—what if you get offered a horse?”
After a moment of silence, I realized Claire was waiting for an answer. “I don’t want a horse.”
“Well, I do!” She giggled. “Just give it to me then, and we’ll tell my parents after it’s done.” Claire kept watching me until I raised my eyebrows in question.
“What?” Iasked.
“Have you?”
“Have I what?”
“Checked your inbox?” Claire asked. Then, without warning, she snatched my phone from me and punched in my lock code. (I never should have given it to her that day at Show Choir). She thumbed through my apps and then to my inbox, and then, “Holy cow! You’ve got a gazillion messages, girl!”
Yay.
I was trying to keep an eye out for Brooks and Reece. I mean, tryouts aren’t particularly exciting, but I still wanted to see how they did.
“EEEEEEEEEE!” Claire clutched at my arm, and my phone almost went flying from her hand as she shoved it toward me. “You got a message fromBroody Moody!”
I knew exactly which company that was. “No.” I shook my head. Nope. I wasn’t going to wear sweatshirts adorned with the faces of hot teenage guys with hearts around their heads. I was not a model; the whole concept was creepy, and I was not doing it.
“But these sweatshirts cost at least seventy-five bucks a pop!”
“And they have fake faces on them! I’d be a walking romance novel cover—or horror. No way.”
“Fake faces! That’s exactly why they’re reaching out to you. Brooks was fake until he wasn’t. If you wear their shirts, you’re giving girls all over the world hope that their dream boyfriend is out there somewhere.” Claire ended her sales pitch with a pretty pout.
I stared at her. “You’re crazy.”
She frowned. “You’rethe one who’s crazy. All this opportunity and you’re ignoring it. Why?” Claire eyed me with suspicion. “Why are you ignoring it?”
“I’ve never liked attention. It’s why I tried to get you all off my back about a boyfriend in the first place.”
“But now you have Brooks, and everything has worked outmorethan okay! Embrace it, Bri.Ownit. You’re the most popular couple to hit Driftwood since forever. Brooks shows up in class with flowers? Heck, every girl in school would give their right arm, leg, and probably shave their heads to be in your shoes.”
“Brooks wouldn’t date a girl with a shaved head,” I retorted.
“Fine. Wigs it is. My point is, Brielle Walters,youare way too relaxed about this whole thing.”
I was anything but relaxed.
In fact, I was growing more and more stressed by the minute.
Claire was beginning to questionmyauthenticity. Brooks had stepped it up today big time—though he could’ve warned me—and now here I was, trying not to literally fall in love with him, and Claire thought I wasrelaxed?
She had no clue.
