Page 51 of Make Me Laugh

We sit in a comfortable silence I don’t feel the need to fill this time, the sound of a passing car and the rattle of its muffler fading as it speeds down the road.

When I leave here tomorrow, I have a new life to figure out. I officially become a jobless thirty-one-year-old who over ten-million people have witnessed getting doxxed as Hex, the internet’s favorite masked book influencer—their title, not mine.

I’ve been saying this since Friday night, but… just one more night. I can ignore my problems for one more night. “What’s your story, West?” I surprise myself by asking.

He turns his head, resting his chin on his shoulder. He stares off, like he’s thinking about what he’s going to say—for probably the first time in his entire life…

“I’m just the class clown from a small town in Michigan without a backup plan who got really fucking lucky to get a second chance.” He smirks, dragging his eyes to meet mine.

I search his face for the answers I need, knowing I won’t find them there. I want to ask him so many questions, dive underneath the surface and find out just how wrong I was about this guy… but instead, I ask, “can you send some of that luck my way? My backup plan was porn, but now people know who I really am, even behind a mask, so I guess it’s back to the drawing board.”

West seems to have a hard time swallowing, focusing on not choking on his tongue.

“You okay?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“Mhmm.” He doesn’t sound convincing. “I’m not picturing you naked as Hex right now. Why would you think that?”

“Now those are the pictures you want for your spank bank.” I stretch my legs out, and before I can do anything stupid, I hop up and reach my arms over my head.

“You mean you have them already or you’ll send me some when you get home tomorrow?” West stares up at me, headed in a direction that would end in explosions and fires, and all-around not good stuff.

There’s never been a reason to have nude Hex pictures, but suddenly I can imagine the look on West’s face when he’s the first to get one… The thought triggers the logical part of my brain back to life. I sigh. “I should go to bed.” The sunrise is a few hours away, and I have a train to catch at 10:00 a.m. “Don’t fall asleep out here. Those cougars from the club probably know how to sniff out a lonely cub.”

We need space between us, so I turn before he has time to reply.

I hear his shoes hit the parking lot’s asphalt. “Joey, wait.” He grabs me by the wrist, gently bringing me to a stop.

I turn to find him… nervous?

West flexes his free hand a couple times, taking a sharp inhale before he lets my hand go. “What if I can be your backup plan?”

My what?

Whatever look I make must give away the thoughts in my head, because West’s speaking again like I responded out loud.

“I mean, what if I pay you for the rest of the tour to run my social media?” He asks the question with such seriousness, I realize instantly he’s not kidding. “I started reading some of the comments tonight… People want to see us together.”

“I—”

“Can’t,” he finishes for me. “That’s what you were going to say, right? That you can’t?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “You can. You’ve shown me and everyone here this weekend that you can. You’re afraid, and that’s okay, but what do you have to lose?”

His words douse my fire with cold water, turning it into smoke and steam. I try to find the words… but I’m not even sure what to say—because he’s right.

I can do it, but I’m more than afraid. I’m fucking terrified.

There’s nothing I can lose from it. I have nothing to lose from it.

“It’s only two months. You can look for jobs in the meantime, line something up for when you get back to Boston.” He pushes the idea so smoothly. “They’re already calling us Mommy and Daddy, Joey. This doesn’t just go away when you get home tomorrow.”

I shake my head, not giving myself time to think about the truth behind his words. “It won’t work, West. You and I”—I motion between us—“barely made it forty-eight hours.”

He wags his finger. “No, no. We didn’t do anything. The contract said nothing about hugs.” He squints. “I don’t think…”

I can’t help my laugh. “Is that what that was? A hug?”

“A hug from a friend,” West says casually.

I stare at him, slightly annoyed at how goddamn handsome he is. Why would anyone want to be just friends with him? “Four adults in that tiny camper for two months is impossible.” I move on to my next excuse.