Later that night, I was in bed, under the covers, a few minutes from sleep, when my phone rang.
“Hey, Nina,” I answered sleepily.
“Hey, so…”
Her serious tone forced my eyes all the way open and my mind to be alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Umm, I just came across something… alarming and mostly confusing, and I’m just a little perplexed.”
“About?”
“Did you create an anonymous social media page and announce yourself to be Hollywood Anderson’s girlfriend?”
My entire face contorted as I tried to make sense of what she’d said. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait… what?”
“Hollywood Anderson’s girlfriend,” she repeated.
I rolled onto my back and stared at my ceiling in confusion. “Well, first of all, I don’t call him ‘Hollywood.’ And second, you know I would never.”
“I didn’t think so, but I needed to confirm,” she said in a teasing tone. “So, I’m about to text you something. This post popped up, and I just…”
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it away from my face to see it.
The image was a plus-sized woman in a skintight bodysuit. Her back was to the camera, so she was showing off her curves, namely her ass. Her honey-blonde-tinted locs were pulled into a ponytail. You couldn’t see her face, but we were similarly shaped. I read the caption underneath the photo.
“‘All this talk about me being Hollywood’s girl, so why don’t I just speak for myself,’” I read aloud. My eyes got wide. “What the fuck is this?”
“Someone trying to capitalize off the attention you’ve been getting the last few days. And this lady, who has already gotten thousands of followers and has ‘Hollywood’s girl’ in her bio, is absolutely going to stir the pot. You need to do something.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Lamar’s the internet’s flavor of the week right now. If he remains unclaimed, people will try to claim him. Case in point, the lady pretending to be you.”
“So, I should do what? Tell him I want to make it official, let his decision to be with me ruin his career, and then watch him resent me for the rest of our lives?”
“Yes,” Nina replied plainly. “You’re not the problem here. So, if he resents you for anything, he’s not who you think he is. And—Russell Long! Thank you!” Nina squealed out of the blue. “I’m on the phone with Jazz. Give me one minute, and then I can thank you properly. Jazz, Russ says hi.”
“Tell Russ I said hi,” I told her. “Spend time with him. It’s past my bedtime anyway.”
“Okay, I’ve reported the page as fraud but just wanted you to be aware. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
We said good night, and I lay awake for thirty minutes going over that woman’s social media page. The first picture she posted was the cropped photo of me and Lamar. The second photo was the one of her from the back. The comments on the image of us ranged from complimentary to confused. The comments on the image of her were about her courageousness, but a surprising amount were downright derogatory. It was an odd sensation because even though they were speaking about her, they thought they were talking about me. So, the words were mean, but I almost felt disconnected.
At least no one knows it’s really me.
I was about to put my phone down when I saw a name that made my blood boil.
Olivia Chapman.
I’d blocked her and every other person in her group back in high school. Unless she’d created an account under a different name, there was no reason I should be seeing her content. But since her video came up as a related topic, I couldn’t resist clicking on the video.
“I went to high school with the woman in the photo. And I can guarantee you Lamar ‘Hollywood’ Anderson went to that event as a favor. He was doing charity work. He grew up in the town next to ours, and he’s a nice guy. We hung out a little bit over the summer, and if you want to know his type, it’s me.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered, rolling my eyes at her bold-faced lie.
I woke up late Tuesday morning, so I was rushing to work. I called to check on Aunt Addy as I was getting off the highway. Monica answered the phone on speakerphone.
“How are you, Aunt Addy?” I asked.
