John at a gala in a sleek black suit, his bombshell fiancée on his arm.
John at a book signing, grinning at fans.
John in a still from an interview.
John at a whiteboard, mid-lecture, arm raised.
My stomach clenched. I recognized the crest of the university. The layout of the hall. I scrolled away quickly.
I found one photo of him with a fan who barely reached his biceps, and attempted to crop her out using my limited editing skills. Then I pasted in a picture of myself. Adjusted the saturation, the lighting. Added a bit of contrast.
The result?
Laughable. Even my mother would see through it in a second.
The back door opened and a gust of cold air rustled my notes. In came two red-nosed writers.
May wore a thick beanie; her purple hair poked out of the knit like baby bird feathers. Jeremy looked like he just stepped out of a British rom-com. They grinned at each other, clearly in on some private joke.
“You look cozy,” Jeremy said, unwrapping his scarf.
“And you two look like popsicles.”
May smiled. “We saw three squirrels. Love those little rascals.” She untied her boots and let out a satisfied sigh as the fire warmed her feet.
“What’s ‘squirrel’ in German?” Jeremy asked, already holding a mug of tea like some sort of wizard.
“Eichhörnchen,” I said, then laughed as he attempted to pronounce it.
“Interesting,” said a dark voice directly beside my ear.
I nearly jumped out of my seat.
John stood behind my chair, close, his face caught between surprise and amusement.
He wasn’t talking about the German language.
He was staring at my laptop.
Mortified, I slammed it shut.
Too late.
He’d seen the hideous, humiliating photo montage of me and him.
I wanted to vanish into the floor. I wanted to die. I wanted to leave earth right that second.
“If you want a picture of the two of us, you just have to ask,” he said.
Burning shame climbed up my neck. I opened my mouth, searching for a witty comeback—any comeback.
“Ooh, that’s a great idea,” May said cheerfully, catching only part of the conversation. “We should take a group photo when Elaine gets back.”
Salvation. Maybe.
I nodded, avoiding John’s gaze.
May perched on the arm of my chair and showed me a picture of a squirrel on her phone. I tried to look remotely interested while blood rushed hot in my ears.
