Page 104 of Famous for a Living

“I would see her sitting in the corner by herself looking miserable, turn the camera around and smile like she was having the time of her life, and then go right back to being miserable as she stared at the screen, trying to pick one.”

Check. Of course.

“I tried to ignore it. I’m not immune to the way society works; I thought it was something I’d just have to get used to. And then, well. Then the accident happened.”

Up until the last bit, he was explaining my life.

His observations of Hannah could’ve easily been of me.

Or Serena.

Or quite frankly, the population of the United States.

Back in the city the use of social media was a given. Half of the jobs relied on it in some form or another. The things he was saying she did were now so commonplace, people didn’t even attempt to hide it. Answer your notifications? Sure. Scroll in the taxi? Of course. Take your phone to the bathroom and answer a few texts? Naturally. There are bathroom tissue holders that have resting spots for your phone.

His laugh is dark and deep. “You know what is so ironic about it all? She was posting a video about minimizing social media use to live without distraction. She was in the middle of writing those exact words when she hit Mark.”

“Oh, that’s awful.”

It made me want to scream.

Cry out about the injustice of undeserved, freak horror.

“And I saw all of it,” Zaiah says. “I watched her go from this happy, bright, intelligent woman who used to go cliff jumping off waterfalls for the thrill of it to someone who couldn’t pick up her fork without trying to take a picture of it. So yes, I am guilty. Not of everything, of course, but of my part in all this. I’m guilty for not trusting my instincts and saying something. And that’s why, long story short, I have a hard time going down to the Honeypot and looking Mark in the face.”

“Even Mark has asked you to move on. It’s clear he has.”

Zaiah looks into my eyes. There’s a subtle shake of his head as he tosses another twig in the fire.

I want to say that him carrying any guilt is crazy.

That she was responsible for her own choices.

But as easy as it would be to try to throw it all on her, this elusive woman I’ve never met, I can’t. Even if simply because I know he wouldn’t let me.

“She’s still in jail?”

“No. Hannah went for a year. When she got out, she wanted nothing to do with me. Or this town. Or anything to do with the life she once had. I don’t blame her.”

I rub my face, trying to wrap my mind around this.

Trying to decide what to ask next.

Zaiah was seriously dating another woman. Things were going well. What does that mean exactly? Had the accident not occurred, would she still be in the picture? He had said years. Years is a long time.

This woman, Hannah, seriously injured Mark and another person because she was on her phone. The incident turned her life, and Zaiah’s life, and Mark’s, upside-down and she went to jail. Mark lost the use of his legs permanently. Zaiah feels guilt despite Mark’s forgiveness and rather impressive ability to forgive and make the most of his life.

Zaiah is now single.

Zaiah is sharing all this with me.

Because, it would seem, he needs me to know. Why? Because it appears he’s interested in me.

Zaiah, who from the sound of it has not so much as looked at another woman in two years, is opening up at last to the possibility of something more . . . with me.

The girl who is about to leave the second she gets her life back.

The girl who, for that matter, can’t go one minute without her phone.