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“Are you watching it again?” I grumbled.
“Just one more time,” Annie said.
“Fine. One more time.”
Annie, Jennifer, Honey, and even Piper crowded in around Jennifer’s cell phone and pressed play on the viral video of me and Campbell. Which, at my last check, had twenty-seven and a half million views.
“You crossed thirty!” Honey squealed.
I couldn’t help it; I jumped to look at the screen. And, holy fucking shit, I was at thirty million views of this one video.
I’d stopped reading the comments after the first hour when it went past my followers to everyone else in the world. Honey had taken over from there. It was safer for my sanity. The first few comments—from those who were mad that I was in the video with Campbell or who thought it was a publicity stunt—were enough for me to quit reading for…pretty much ever.
“That’s nuts.”
“It’s incredible,” Piper said with a smile. “I love to see your success.”
I shrugged. “I mean, I posted a video. Campbell did all the rest.”
Annie exchanged a glance with Jennifer. “Campbell might have supplied the audience, but they’re sticking around because of you. For the content you already have in place. Now, they know who you are.”
“I guess.”
“It’s brilliant,” Honey said. She smiled at me with her wide brown eyes. She’d gotten her hair cut to have bangs yesterday, and I still wasn’t used to it. She kept brushing them out of her eyes, as if the fringe was bugging her. “We’ve had so many engagement requests for your work.”
“Yeah. Who cares how they got here?” Piper asked. “You should milk it for all it’s worth.”
She was right, of course. I’d always gotten exclusives and free clothes for my minor celebrity status, but everything had blown up in the last couple of days. Among the most exciting was a speaking tour for Blaire Blush, a potential book contract around my wellness initiative, and a spot on the Today show. I couldn’t freaking believe it. All because of one video with currently thirty million views and counting.
I didn’t know what I was going to do. Or if I was going to do any of it. I needed representation. I’d been overwhelmed before this video. Now, I needed someone in my corner to figure out which of these offers was real and how to capitalize on them. Which meant…I probably needed to talk to Campbell.
And I hadn’t talked to Campbell since I’d invited him to see the fireworks today. Which still made me blush. I’d asked it innocuously. His brother and sister were going to be here regardless. But it was me asking. I didn’t know what had come over me, but some barrier had been broken down between us after that video.
It was better that he wasn’t here though.
I bit my lip and looked down at the video that was playing again. We looked so real there. As if that were reality and this disconnect and anger between us were fake. It was better that I didn’t see him right now.
“Marie?” a voice called from a short distance away.
I grimaced and froze. I knew that voice. I purposely avoided that voice at all costs.
I turned around, and there she was. Almost five feet tall with a short blonde bob that was dyed that color every three weeks like clockwork. She wore a sensible red blouse tucked into mom jeans with sneakers that were two decades out of date. She was lucky that all her old clothes were coming back into fashion. She didn’t look quite as embarrassing as she had when I was in high school.
“Hello, Mother,” I said with a vengeance. If she wanted to call me Marie, then I’d be sure not to call her Pamela, like she’d asked me to call her since I was seven.
My friends glanced at each other in confusion. Yeah, I never mentioned that Blaire was my middle name. I’d never much felt like a Marie.
“I’ll meet up with y’all at the fireworks display. Same place as last year, right?”
“Definitely,” Annie said.
“Let us know if you need us,” Piper said warily.
Honey didn’t immediately follow the other girls. As if she thought she warranted an introduction to my mother. That was never happening.
“Honey, go with the others. I’ll see you later.”
She bit her lip with a sigh. “All right. See you, Blaire.”
When Honey was gone, I walked over to where my mom stood with my stepfather, Hal. Tall and spindly with beady black eyes and a receding hairline. We’d never gotten along. Not that he’d really tried to make my life better after the divorce.
During my freshman year of high school, Dad had moved away to Michigan to be with his boyfriend. I wanted to go with him. The courts thought Mom was a more suitable parent. She was a psychiatrist after all with a large following. And my dad was gay and moving out of state with someone half his age. He’d never stood a chance. He still made an effort, writing and sending gifts every holiday. But it wasn’t the same.
