Page 55 of Just for the Cameras
She’s smiling brightly, her dimples on display while a faint spattering of freckles dot the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Despite her aversion for me, she is giving off the impression that she’s happy to be snuggled in next to me.
Snuggled in close…
Christ, don’t think about it like that. Do not even fucking go there.
I click on the picture she posted of us, and the caption says: “He’s teaching me football, I’m teaching him flamingos. Come along for the ride.” And then a bunch of hashtags. My name being one of them.
Holy shit!
Over three thousand likes? And three hundred comments?
I glance back up at the profile, and there are already over ten thousand followers.
What the hell did she do? I was certain she’d been lying when she said she was awesome at social media.And yet.
OC:From your silence, I’m guessing that maybe you didn’t know about this?
Bennett:Does Gretchen know?
Graydon:I did, and Gretchen approved, but I thought it would just be some stupid thing that didn’t gain any traction.
Bennett:Oh, it gained traction. People are already planning your wedding.
OC:Me being one of them. I’m thinking a summer soiree. By the way, you two make a good couple. Don’t you think, Bennett?
Bennett:I’m not answering that.
Graydon:WE ARE NOT A COUPLE.
OC:Are you shouting at us? Dude, this is a chill place.
Bennett:Why are you poking the bear? Didn’t he tell you not to call him dude?
Graydon:Why are you both even talking to me?
OC:We like you. We want to form a bond.
Bennett:Bored in a hotel room.
Graydon:Well, we are not hard-launching anything. There is no relationship. This was just a stupid PR ploy to get people to like the team.
Bennett:Seems like it’s working.
OC:Now you have to give the people what they want.
Graydon:And what would that be?
OC:A romance!
I lean against Gate B, arms crossed, murder on my mind.
When I checked the profile this morning, we already had over one hundred thousand followers—how?
Who cares that much about a zookeeper and a football player?
And the comments, likes, and shares? Astronomical. One picture—that’s all it was—and now I feel like I have all eyes on me…which is dramatic, but fuck.
The door to the building in front of me opens and Maple walks out…slowly.
