Girls ask if I’m “that girl from TikTok.”
Somebody gets a video of me skating and laughing, the lights glinting off the ice.
It’s harmless.
They’re kind.
But it jolts me back to reality.
This is my life now.
By the time we trek back to the house, cheeks flushed, boots dripping snow, my muscles ache in the best way.
Irene hands me my phone from the basket.
“Brace yourself, darling.”
I shouldn’t look in bed.
But of course I do.
I’ve been tagged in twenty videos.
Ice skating. Laughing. Smiling. Falling on my butt.
Caption after caption:
“Jade Bryan is actually the sweetest.”
“Look who we ran into on the Cape!”
“She looks so happy omg.”
“We love a resilient queen.”
#ThanksgivingVibes #CapeCod #JadeBryan
I groan into my pillow.
Fantastic.
Emerging celebrity status: confirmed.
But then—maybe stupidly—I open my front camera, prop the phone up on a pillow, and hit record.
“Hey guys… Jade here,” I say quietly. “No glam tonight. No edits. Just me.”
A breath.
“So, Thanksgiving. I’ve got my parents here, my aunt, my new friends. I went to therapy today—yeah, therapy. I'm not too cool to admit I'm in therapy. It helps. More than I thought it would.”
My gaze flickers off-screen.
“Tonight we unplugged. No phones. No scrolling. No doom spiraling. Just… people. And honestly? It felt amazing.”
I smile—small but real.
“So tomorrow… try it. Take a basket. Throw all your phones in it. Talk. Laugh. Burn something you meant to cook. I don’t know. Just connect with the people who care about you.”
