Page 56 of Famous for a Living

And even though I dropped the handle and the persona and even my name eventually, there are still Reddit threads and screenshots and whole articles and fan pages serving as daily reminders of my cringey mistakes years ago.

That’s the thing about the internet. Once it’s out there, it’s there forever.

And the higher you are, the farther the fall.

My cheeks blaze.

The reminder of my mistakes making me squirm all the way down to my toes.

Aside from Mina’s little confession, no one has made mention of my social media.

Any of it.

And so far, everyone has done such a good job acknowledging that I’m good at social media without acknowledging the why behind it that I had halfway started to believe it. Halfway started to believe the lie that nobody here looks at me in the mornings walking in with my Cozy Cup of coffee and thinks, There’s Cat Cranwell. I can scroll back and know everything about her, from the date she posted about her first period to the disaster of her last boyfriend. What a mess. That I really did have a clean slate. A chance to reveal to people whatever I want about my life, on my own time.

But of course not.

Of course.

“It’s Cat, Jax,” I say.

And for one long second as the group carries on, our eyes are locked. His goofy grin slips away.

He pauses.

Then he straightens.

In that moment I feel I get a glimpse of the man he will one day become. A good guy. A guy who may make some cringey mistakes, just like I did back then, but will come out just fine.

“Sure, Cat.” He dips his head slightly. “Sorry.”

He slips the T-shirt back on.

I give him a mild thanks of a smile, and he jumps back into the conversation going on around the group. It’s just a hunch, but I feel almost certain he won’t talk to anyone about whatever he’s unearthed.

“You okay?” Zaiah stands beside me, his voice low. And while everyone else is knee-deep in argument, Zaiah is the only one looking down at me. His face pensive. Brow furrowed.

So. He noticed.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly. I slip the camera into the pocket of my shorts.

“I’m up, boys!” Peggy cries, as the jumper ahead makes a mad dash past us, dripping wet. “Baby doll, grab your camera!”

I scramble to retrieve my phone and watch in silent wonder as she tosses her cane aside. She loops her arms around Jax and Zaiah.

She looks small and frail beside them, held steady by their strength.

Unbelievable. Zaiah really has managed to be thoroughly and truly attractive in these shirts.

Zaiah catches my eye, and suddenly I become very keen to discover the exact shade of the carpet I’m standing on.

The boys shuffle Peggy toward the edge of the ice like they’re ushers at a wedding.

Jax tries to keep his feet on the carpet leading to the open waters. Zaiah seems indifferent as he walks directly on ice. Peggy, with her dangling hot-pink flamingo earrings, Bermuda shorts, and shower cap, inches along the carpet.

When they get to the edge, two lifeguards hand Jax and Zaiah bright-orange buoys.

“Long live Kannery Park!” Peggy cries and, without even a beat of hesitation, throws herself into the water.