My hands shook as I scrolled through the comments.
Bet he bakes victory cookies
Power bottom vibes for sure
Riley's only using him for stress relief
Each one was a new punch to the gut. They weren't strangers making jokes about my reality TV past or my rap disasters. They were talking about Evan, handling him as public property, fair game for speculation and humor because he'd had the misfortune of sharing an apartment with me.
I started typing a response to the original post, then deleted it. Started again. Deleted again. What could I say? That they'd gotten it wrong? That Evan deserved better than being reduced to a punchline? That some asshole in my locker room had violated our privacy for the sake of cheap laughs?
All true. None of it would matter. The internet didn't care about truth, only salacious stories.
I dug out Evan's contact and started typing.
They're talking about you online. It's bullshit. I'm going to find out who—
I deleted that and started over.
Evan, I'm so sorry. Some dickhead leaked—
Delete.
I lowered my head into my hands. I didn't want to type. I wanted to throw a punch.
Finally, I typed:
Jake:Ignore X tonight. Please.
I hit send before I could delete that, too.
Three dots appeared immediately. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Evan:What happened?
I stared at the message for a full minute. The truth would hurt him. Lying would hurt worse if he found out. I was drowning in the space between the two.
Jake:Just hockey bullshit. I'll explain tomorrow.
Evan:Jake.
One word. My name. I heard it in his voice—the tone he used when he knew I was deflecting.
Jake:Tomorrow. I promise.
The three dots appeared and disappeared twice more before I saw his reply.
Evan:Okay. Only because you said please.
I set the phone down and pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to push back the white-hot rage building inside.
neurotic cookie gay
It made Evan small. Anonymous. A type instead of a person.
I was ten hours away, powerless to do anything about it except watch the comments multiply and hope he'd listen when I told him to stay offline.
Tomorrow, I'd find out who did this.
