“Excuse me, Miss Patch?” says one of his younger goons in a voice so high it makes him sound like air escaping a balloon.
My chest begins to tighten. No. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Suddenly, my throat feels like sandpaper. There’s only one way someone would know to call me by that name.
Clem grips my wrist. “Come on. Let’s go. Ignore these guys.”
Another guy who I vaguely recognize pretends to vogue, but does an awful job of it as he sings a nonsensical, barely recognizable version of “Lady Marmalade.”
Around me, the entire hallway full of students is laughing.At me.They’re laughing at me.
I turn to Clem, unable to hide the betrayal I feel deep in my bones.
I tear my arm away from her and look up just in time to see Tucker Watson grimace at this whole disastrous situation and turn away.So glad I could disgust you, I nearly spit at him.
I could hide out in Ms. Laverne’s office, but that would require diving even deeper into the school. If Patrick Thomas has seen my audition video, everyone else has too, and if this is what I am greeted with after stepping five feet into the building, no thank you. Sorry, Mr. Higgins. I’m out of here.
I walk with purpose, my head held high and my shoulders squared, the whole way to my car as Clem chases after me.
I don’t know how the video got out, but I do know that I shared it with one person and one person only. Besides, it’s not like Clem was being so judicious in the first placeabout who she shared it with.
I get in the truck and Clem circles around to get into the passenger side, but I hit the lock button before she can open the door.
“Waylon Russell Brewer!” she says, shocked.
I shake my head and turn the radio on.
Clem comes over to my side and knocks on the window. “It’s not so bad,” she pleads. “Please let me in. We can handle this! We can do anything together! We’re the Brewer twins, damn it!”
And that’s it. That’s the final straw. I roll my window down and turn to her. “Together? Really? Just like how you were going to go to Georgia without me? Or were we supposed to do that together too?”
Her jaw drops, and it’s then that I know this is really happening. My twin sister, my best friend, is leaving me to go halfway across the country and she didn’t even have the courage to tell me. She’s not thinking about it or weighing her options. Clem’s mind is made up.
It takes her too long to form a thought, to grasp her words.
I’ve already rolled my window up and am blasting Gaga’s “Bad Romance.” I reverse out of the parking lot, leaving my sister there, her jaw still slack.
Eight
It only takes a few minutes of internet sleuthing to piece together how this happened, and it all starts with Kyle Meeks.
Of course, it does. I slam my phone down in the passenger seat and grip my steering wheel as I try to inhale the good vibes and exhale the toxic anger that makes me want to crush Kyle Meeks and everything he loves until all that’s left is ashes for me to sprinkle across a pit of rattlesnakes.
After a few moments, I pick my phone up again and begin to reread his text message.
Kyle: Waylon, I am so incredibly sorry! I shared the video to the Prism Club Facebook group. Or so I thought. I accidentally publicly posted it to my personal page. It was only up for 20 minutes. 30 tops.
I pull up Facebook and find his post in the Prism Club, where he’d originally intended to post it.
Kyle Meeks(Moderator) →Prism(Group, 36 Members)
I’m so thrilled to share this FIERCEST OF THEM ALL audition tape from our very own, Waylon Brewer. You go, Waylon! We’re rooting for you!
11
Below is the video in its full unedited glory.
He even tagged me. This is what I get for saying Facebook is beneath me. (Honestly though, any platform where my own mother is sharing memes is not a safe space.)
The comments are mostly gentle and encouraging, which honestly softens me a little, but it doesn’t matter because it’s everywhere. Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. There are even a few reaction videos on Snapchat, Twitter, and YouTube. And all it took was thirty minutes before Kyle realized what he’d done and deleted his public post.
