Page 58 of Talk to Me

Pulling my coat on, I slipped out of the car and stretched. Snowflakes were falling lazily, yet steadily, and the icy breeze was whipping against my cheeks and nose. I jogged around the car, stretching my legs, glad that the ground was clear enough that slipping wasn’t a concern. By the time I’d made my way around the car a dozen times, my legs had their feeling back and I was cupping my hands in front of my face and blowing into them.

Iowa winters can get bitterly cold, but the coldest days usually weren’t until late December, January, and early February. Seeing the smattering of snow and feeling the icy wind on my flesh before Thanksgiving was a cause for concern. If we were going to have an atypical winter, I wasn’t prepared. Hot weather, unrelenting sunshine, and humidity aren’t my favorite thing, but neither is a winter so cold that my toes are always tingling.

I pulled out my phone and checked the weather app. To my relief, I saw that the winter storm we were experiencing was expected to be over soon. A light dusting of snow across the region was expected, and the temperatures were going to be low, but we weren’t in for a winter wonderland anytime soon. With a sigh of relief, I slid my phone back into my pocket and was opening my car door when Theo dashed back out of the gas station. Two bulging plastic grocery bags were in his hands, and he was grinning like a fool.

I smiled and ducked back into the car. Once the door was closed, I slipped my coat off my shoulders and waited for him. Theo finally made his way to the car and fell into the seat beside me, a gust of wintry air filling the car and making me shiver. He closed his door quickly and shivered, the two bags of treats on his lap. Turning the car on, I flipped the heat to full blast and looked at the bags in Theo’s lap.

“I got Red Bulls, some waters, chips, Twizzlers, M&Ms, Sour Patch Kids, and a few bacon, egg, and cheese croissants,” he said, his teeth chattering.

“No coffee?” I gasped.

“Their machine was down,” he said with a groan. “But I got two bottled Starbucks mocha things. It was the best I could do. Unless you want to find a coffee shop?”

“I suppose we can suffer,” I said, sighing dramatically.

We both laughed and ripped into the bags Theo had brought out of the store. Once everything was laid out, Theo brought his phone out and started taking pictures of the haul.

“Do you document everything for your online existence?” I laughed.

He shrugged and grinned awkwardly.

“My followers expect me to update them frequently on my life,” he said as he snagged a croissant and began to unwrap it. “If I don’t upload videos, I at least have to throw some pics onto Instagram or something.”

“That sounds…exhausting,” I said, turning in my seat to look at him.

I snagged a sandwich and a Red Bull, which I immediately cracked open and took a hearty first glug. I slipped the can into the drink holder and unwrapped my sandwich.

“Well,” Theo said, then bit into his sandwich, before continuing with a full mouth, “if you want to be an influencer, you gotta influence.”

“Okay,” I said. “Agreed. But in what way does this influence people?”

Waving my hand theatrically over the snacks stacked on the dashboard, the console, and our laps, I made Theo laugh. He shrugged and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

“I guess influence is kind of not the right word for the job, right?” he asked. “It’s more like curating an aesthetic, lifestyle, or experience to entertain others and to give them something to aspire to be.”

“You want to make people think eating gas station food in a car on a freezing morning in Iowa is a dream they should dream?”

“Well, no,” he said. “Well, maybe. Yeah. Maybe. Why not? We contain multitudes. Even someone who owns a private jet doesn’t eat their potato chips out of a crystal bowl, ya’ know? At least, not every time they eat chips.”

I laughed. “Fair. I’d hope. But anyone can go to Casey’s, get some slop, fling it around, and take pictures of it. What’s so special about you doing it?”

“Well,” Theo turned his nose up comically, “I was popular already.”

“Fair again,” I said. “But what keeps you popular? I mean, what is it you do that makes you one of the biggest accounts on Peepers?”

He thought about that for a second and shrugged, chewing his sandwich as he looked down at the snacks in his lap.

“Is it this punim?” I reached over and grabbed his chin, giving it a squeeze.

Theo pulled away with a laugh, crumbs spraying from his mouth.

“Are you saying people only follow me because I’m attractive?” he asked.

“I’m sure it doesn’t hurt,” I said with a shrug.

“So, you think I’m cute?” He leaned across the console and waggled his eyebrows at me.

I rolled my eyes and took a bite of my sandwich.