Aiden flops down on the arm of the chair that Dad is sitting in. "Yeah, but God certainly gave her tons to make up for that. She's by far the smartest of the three of us."
I want to hug him.
This time Carolina looks up and then looks at me in disbelief. "What? Owen went to Yale."
"Yeah, but Ophelia has a higher IQ than either one of us. We were tested when we were kids. Mom has the reports, right, Mom?"
Wait, I'm smarter than my brothers? There's no way. They're put together and accomplished and …
Before I can process this Earth-shattering bit of news that will forever give me bragging rights over my brothers, it happens. If my life was a movie, it would happen in slow motion. Instead, everything comes rapid-fire and from all directions at once. "Jesus Christ, you're Xavier Henry." Dude Number One is apparently on his own internet deep dive.
"Who's that?" Owen asks.
"Him," Dude Number Two says, pointing at Xavier. "He's an actual soccer player."
"Duh." My witty retort is all I have time for before chaos ensues.
"You went viral because you didn't know your boyfriend was cheating on you."
"You asked ClikClak to set you up."
"You're married."
"He almost killed a woman drunk driving and left her to die."
"You're a prostitute."
It's a lot all at once, but the last statement is so random and outrageous that it's enough to spur me into a reaction. I wave my hands. "Whoa, that's enough. What did you say? Did you call me a prostitute?" I glance at Xavier. He didn't pay me to marry him—not really—and he certainly didn't pay me to climb him like a tree.
I did that all on my own, thank you very much.
"I'm sorry, do you prefer sex worker? Are you in film or an escort or what? It's fine. You do you." Makayla nods.
On the other hand, my mother does not have such a sex-positive view. "It's not fine. She can not do her. Nor anyone else, and definitely not for money! Ophelia June Finnegan, what are you thinking?"
"Actually," Owen adds dryly, not looking up from his own phone, "It is apparently Ophelia June Henry. They are married."
"Why would you marry a porn star?" Dude Number Two asks Xavier. "Don't you have to sign like morality or behavior clauses? You're just supposed to bang those chicks. Not marry them. That's the point. They'll do you anyway."
I think I'm going to vomit. This is about seven billion times worse than the bird revelation. I'd walk through an entire cage of birds if I didn't have to be a part of this barrage right now.
"Why on earth do you think I'm a prostitute?" I say at the same time my mother says, "Married? You're married? You can't be married."
Mom is growing a teensy bit hysterical. "There was no wedding. We've never met him before. Last we knew your boyfriend was Trent. You are not married."
Voices rise, trying to outdo each other. Mom is yelling. Owen is yelling. Carolina is yelling. Aiden's telling everyone to calm down. The client and his wife are looking around, clearly embarrassed at this fiasco. Makayla and Madyson are cackling and shrieking. The Dudes are still scrolling and calling out embarrassing things from my ClikClak, like the PenisGate date.
I'm pretty sure Dad is still watching football.
Xavier looks at me, his eyes growing wild. "What's happening?"
"Apparently I'm not the only one in my family with chaotic energy?" I offer, shrugging.
"Why is he saying you're a prostitute?" Xavier hisses at me in a loud whisper. Then he says, in a much louder voice, to Dude Number One, "Why do you keep calling her a prostitute?"
Dude Number Two chimes in, "It's right here. In her ClikClak." He waves his phone.
It is indeed my profile, a cute picture of Sundance and me. Under our photo, it says, "Book Lover, Cat Lover, Accountant. #XOXO."
