I open a single eye to find Hollis staring down into it.
“Don’t worry about Yeva,” he says. “This has nothing to do with her.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better about cutting in line.”
“Cutting in line?”
“Yeah. If you were a roller coaster—”
Hollis cuts me off with a grumbled “For god’s sake.” His hands come to my face before his lips press against mine with enough pressure to communicate that this is mostly about getting me toshut up and stop spiraling. But soon the kiss shifts to a leisurely, soft exploration of mouths. And whoops, we’re making out in the middle of Main Street, surrounded by dozens of people.
A wolf whistle from someone in the crowd brings us back to reality some indeterminate amount of time later. I try to jump back from Hollis, to put space between us as if it will make any difference now. But he holds me against him, and says softly into my ear, “Guess we’ll find out if you’re right about not being famous enough for anyone to care.”
•••
I’m not famous enough for anyone to care. Or rather, I wouldn’t be. Except it turns out that when someone takes a video of two people sharing a passionate kiss at the end of a parade route, and one of them is the parade’s grand marshal who is wearing a flower crown that includes raw broccoli florets, it gets a bit of traction online. Because apparently, even though Hollis and I are not a couple, we are somehow stillhashtag couple goalsandso obviously in love. The slack-jawed freckled kid in the background who drops his ice cream cone when Hollis squeezes my butt cheek only added to the speed with which the thing went viral.
A half hour after the original post on Twitter, the grand marshal thing got lost in the absurd game of telephone that is the internet. So thanks to the crown on my head, I’ve been dubbed the Broccoli Princess (although one retweet called me the Green Goddess, which I thought was inspired). Anyway, someone finally put two and two together and figured out Broccoli Princess equaled Millicent Watts-Cohen. So now social media is filled withPenelope to the Pasthot takes and stills of my awkward teenaged body in the infamous yellow bikini.
“Stop looking at it,” Hollis says for the third time from the driver’s seat of Ryan’s lime-green Kia Soul. “You’re just going to get upset or skeeved out.”
I go deeper down the rabbit hole of retweets and quote tweets and—oh geez, there’s already a parody of it with two guys who have a comedy podcast or something. The bearded one is playing me and their dog is the kid in the background. It’s actually pretty hilarious.
“How did you wind up using my phone for this anyway?” Hollis mumbles.
“You have the app. It’s easier to use.”
“You can get it on your phone too, you know.”
“Then I’d need to make an account. No thanks, I’ll just keep using yours,” I say.
No one’s figured out Hollis’s identity yet, as far as I can tell. I hope that means Yeva won’t see the video. Hollis may have told me not to worry about her, but I can’t help wondering if my horniness is going to cause her distress. I’m about to bring it up again, to ask if Hollis is sure Yeva won’t be upset, if their arrangement explicitly accommodates this sort of thing, when Hollis’s phone buzzes in my hand.
Please don’t be Yeva again. Please don’t be—
Well, it’s not Yeva. But someone’s figured out the man in the video is Hollis Hollenbeck.
JOSH YAEGER:What the hell do you think you’re doing, Hollenbeck?
Seeing my ex’s name makes my stomach dip. “Uh. Hollis. You have a text from...”
JOSH YAEGER:I know you want to be me and have whatever I have but this is taking it too far.
“From...?” Hollis coaxes.
“Josh.”
“Oh.” He huff-laughs. “What does that asshole want?”
I watch the phone’s screen, my hand trembling as I wait to see if another message will come through. “He must’ve seen the video. I think he’s pretty upset.”
“Good.”
JOSH YAEGER:If you want to stick your dick in crazy, be my guest. She’s a terrible lay anyway.
The words shoot fury into my chest at the same time they make my self-assurance feel like peeling wallpaper that could come down with one good tug. I’ve already become so used to the way Hollis makes me lean into the strongest parts of myself that I forgot how easy it is to be stripped down to something faded and fragile.
JOSH YAEGER:You should know she’s only using you to get back at me. Must’ve heard that’s all you’re good for.
