When her song became popular, it wasn’t because she was good. No, the ridiculous lyrics and the auto-tuning kept listeners coming back. They weren’t fans. They were bullies.
She did not know when she wrote a song about cheese and plucked it out on her guitar that it would become an iconic cult video. Of course, ten-year-old Sami held onto the certainty this would be a number one hit. So she posted it online.
When it wasn’t a hit, she forgot about it.
Until years later, some guy found it, posted it on his socials, made it into a joke and suddenly Sami Jo was a hot commodity… as comedy. Not even a good joke. A crusty, smelly joke that the internet trolls took hold of and didn’t let go. They attacked everything about her like she was truly an enemy.
The urgency of the consistent mean messaging was more than disturbing. How did they cancel a ten-year-old for writing a song about cheese? And why would they?
She’d never know because when she got the opportunity to drop out of sight, she did.
This started a years long person-of-interest hunt by the public, so she ran. She ran, and she worked where the people did not care or know anything about Sami Jo. People who didn’t look for Sami Jo sightings. Sightings that were never her.
And when she’d taken herself away? Well, that made the demand for her even stronger.
“It sucks that my best friend is an urban legend who attracts sexy drummers—”
“Singular,” Sam corrected. “Only the one drummer.”
“So far.” Ashley rolled onto her back, draping her arm dramatically across her eyes. “As I was saying—it sucks that I can’t tell anyone about it! About how awesome you are! About how I know where Sami Jo is!”
Sam shook her head. “You don’t know where she is. Sami Jo doesn’t exist anymore.”
And she never would. Sam tucked her away where she belonged—in the past.
She wanted that. But the heated bile of fear inched up into her esophagus. “What if everyone knows who I am. They figure it out. And then what?”
“And then they know,” Ashley said. “That’s it. Then they know. Period.”
Sam shook her head. If she ever dated with the intention of a long-term relationship, she would date no one with a fan base. No! Because someone would start looking at her, recognize her, figure out where Sami Jo disappeared to—hiding out by working in retirement homes because the residents didn’t care about a girl with a song from the early 2000s. The song they made up to the tune ofhersong still hurt.
Where the hellhas Sami Jo gone?
Probably somewhere as a pawn.
Maybe she went off to Cancun,
To hang out with auto-tune.
Ugh.It wasn’t even good!
“I want to meet this guy,” Ashley said. “Can you introduce me? I seriously love Dimefront.”
“You just want to meet him ’cause he’s hot.” Sam strummed a few chords on the guitar from a song she’d written that wouldn’t leave her alone. A song about hiding. And then being found.
This was nonsense that a little trickle of unease made her want to hide away. She didn’t want Tanner to fall in love with Ashley, instead of taking a shot with her. But he couldn’t exactly fall for Sam, so maybe she should introduce them. That would be the nice thing to do.
“I see the little wheels in your head.” Ashley made a wheel motion with her index finger. “I do not want to date this guy. No, I want to meet him because he’s with Dimefront. He’s hot. Yes, that’s why I want him to ask you out again. I’m a little annoyed that you told me he was boy band pretty.” She held up another photo in the blue paint series. “This is not boy band pretty.”
The boy band-esque aesthetic had turned out to be a decoy. Because there was nothing boy band about Dimefront music or Tanner in those photos. He was 100 percent hot adult male in every single image.
And he’d asked her on a date. Then did a puppet show with her. And then had the audacity to be so kind that he assisted her escape. And then she made sure he left before coming back out, proving that she was awful. A questionable person who made bad choices even when she tried to make good ones.
“What do I even do about him?” Sam asked, actually opening her mind to the possibility that maybe she should give it a shot.
Gah. No.
A shot was possible when he was only Tanner the hunky puppeteer. She could’ve gotten over this massive hurdle and actually convinced herself to do it. Convince herself that maybe—only maybe—she could consider putting down some roots here in Denver.
