Not Your #Lovestory

by Sonia Hartl

  They looked at each other. The pleading in Jessica’s pouty lip met with Eric’s stubborn ego. I had her. Now I just needed to get him. “What are you going to do?” Eric asked me.

  “I’m going to delete your pictures, then I’m going to hop on Twitter and delete every thread and mention of Baseball Babe.”

  “We can do that ourselves,” Jessica said.

  “No.” I knew how deleting worked. How they’d be saved in the trash for thirty days. I wouldn’t be taking any chances with this. “I want to do it. I need to make sure they are really wiped clean.” I handed my phone to Paxton, who held it with a white-knuckle grip.

  “How do we know you won’t wipe away our photos, the only leverage we have, and then load that video anyway?” Eric asked.

  I tapped a finger to my lips. “I suppose you’ll just have to trust me.”

  And I hoped it haunted them. I hoped they’d wake up in the middle of the night, frantically scrolling through YouTube to see if I’d uploaded that video after all. I hoped they felt a fraction of the terror I’d gone through. But most of all, I hoped Jessica would learn how to keep her camera to herself from now on.

  Jessica handed me her phone first, grinding her jaw the entire time. “Just do it.”

  She nudged Eric, shooting daggers at him, until he finally relented and gave me his phone too. I deleted the pictures of me and Paxton first, in case they changed their minds and tried to snatch their phones back, then I went in and deleted the photos permanently from the trash, making sure they hadn’t downloaded from the Cloud yet. I even checked their emails and texts too. I deleted every tweet, every Instagram video, every YouTube video until every interaction, every mention of that day at the Royals game, disappeared. With every click, that black hole in my heart healed over. I couldn’t do anything about the hashtags or screenshots, but it was enough for me.

  Once I finished, I handed them their phones. “Change your Twitter handles, bios, and profile pictures. You’ll both be forgotten by the end of the week when someone new goes viral. And if you so much as think my name again, I’ll lawyer up.”

  I linked my arm through Paxton’s and we left them behind the game tents among the generators. Jessica and Eric, who had come into my life by chance, left again just as quickly. The damage Jessica had caused with those photos would linger in some ways for a long time, for all of us, but even if the Internet was forever, attention spans generally weren’t.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  AS SOON AS WE walked back to the midway, Paxton tugged me against him and kissed me deeply. The carnival worker at the milk jug toss game whistled and tried to encourage Paxton to win me a giant stuffed banana, but we ignored him.

  “You were brilliant.” He held my shoulders as he kissed my forehead. “Utterly.” He kissed my cheek. “Completely.” He kissed my other cheek. “Brilliant.” He kissed my lips again. “As soon as Eric showed those pictures, I thought it was all over for us. How did you know to record them?”

  “I’m a fast learner.” I pulled back and looked him over. “How did you find us?”

  He rubbed his jaw. “I followed you. I’m sorry it took me so long to really get there.”

  “You didn’t have to show up at all, you know. I had it handled.”

  “I know.” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry about being distant the past two days. It’s still a lot for me, and I kept my distance so I could get a grip on it all. But I’ll always stand by you.”

  “That’s why I love you.” I took his hand. We still had another hour before he had to get back to Matilda for her show. “Let’s go ride something that won’t kill us.”

  I texted Elise to meet us by the Tilt-A-Whirl. She was already there with Midnight by the time we got to the other side of the fair. Elise wore a pirate hat made out of balloons and looked deliriously happy about it, while Midnight stood beside her, glaring at the ride.

  I nudged Midnight. “You do know there are children here, Unholy Mistress. Maybe try not to look like you’ll eat their souls?”

  She turned her glare on me. “Who in their right mind would pay money to purposefully make themselves sick?”

  Elise cocked her head, and the balloon feather in her balloon pirate hat bounced with the movement. “Are you afraid of the Tilt-A-Whirl?”

  “No.” Midnight kicked at the ground. “Okay, maybe.”

  I couldn’t believe it. The girl who’d faced her demons by becoming one was afraid of the tamest ride outside the merry-go-round. Even I’d ride the Tilt-A-Whirl, and I was terrified of nearly every other ride at the fair.

  “We are definitely going on it now,” I said.

  “I will definitely puke on you,” Midnight shot back. “If you force me on that thing, I’m sitting with you.”

  “Okay, you win.” I held up my hands in surrender. “No rides. Promise.”

  “Did you find Jessica and Eric?” Elise asked.

  I took out my phone and showed her the video, just to give her the full effect. Midnight and Elise swore and cursed Eric and Jessica the whole time, and when they’d reached the point where I’d stopped recording, I filled them in on the rest.

  “My best friend.” Elise hugged me. “The badass.”

  I squeezed her tight. “Does this mean I get to be Batman now?”

  “Hell no.” Elise pulled back and shook her head. “You’re still Robin, but, like, a really buffed-up, cool version of Robin.”

  “I’ll take it, I guess.” I glanced at the time on my phone and turned to Paxton. “If you want to go get Matilda checked in, I’ll stop by the craft hall to see the Bees’ quilt and meet you over there in time for the judging.”

  “That works for me.” He kissed me again before disappearing into the crowds.

  “Did you two want to come with me?” I asked Elise and Midnight.

  They looked at each other. “Nah,” Elise said. “We’re going to go make out in my truck before the rabbit show. My girlfriend has a thing for pirates.”

  “Arrr,” Midnight said, her face turning the color of the red shells over the Tilt-A-Whirl.

  I waved them off and made my way over to the craft hall, which was really just a huge white barn that didn’t have any animals in it. Crowds and flies filtered in and out of the wide-open doors. Booths holding paintings, pottery, beadwork, photography, pies, cookies, and handwoven rugs filled the aisles. Anything considered an art or a hobby could be judged at the Shelby County Fair. Though nothing else created the same buzz as the quilts. They took up the entire back wall of the barn, all hung up on hooks to show their full detail.

  As soon as I spotted the Bees—minus Gigi, who was assisting Paxton—at their table, I looked up and put a hand over my chest. There on the wall, the Bees hadn’t just embroidered Defining Moments in Recent History, but Defining Moments in their histories.

  I recognized each square by their signature stitches. Peg’s depicted two women seated at a table with needle and thread. The first time she and Gram had sewn together, when Gram started the Bees and Peg became as much a part of my family as a certified Evans. Donna’s showed a woman with flowing blond hair, dancing in a field of flowers and surrounded by five boys. Gigi’s square took my breath away. A young boy, age nine if I had to guess, holding a rabbit in a yard bordered by daffodils. And Gram’s. She’d sewn a teenage girl and her mom, with both of their hands holding a heart over the pregnant belly of the girl.

  I approached the table and managed not to turn into a sobbing mess. “I think this is your best work yet.”

  “It certainly turned out well.” Gram rested her arm on my shoulder.

  The pride radiating off her was thicker than the flies hovering around the animal barns, but she kept it reined in. Like she did every year, knowing the quilt would go to beef. Not this year though. Not this quilt. Even if I had to dig into my savings, I’d make sure the Bees got to keep this one.

  “It’s nice and coherent, too.” Donna gave a nod to Peg.

  All war
s went into cease-fire mode during fair days.

  “Who are all those boys?” I asked Donna.

  “I had fun in the sixties.” She glanced up at her square. “I couldn’t remember which one I liked the most, so I went ahead and sewed them all up there.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  Strangers lingered at their table, drawn in by the lovely needlework. They’d take first place again this year for sure.

  “You just missed your momma and Roger,” Gram said.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, he’s just Roger now?”

  “He’s okay.” She huffed, as if it pained her to say so. “Still old.”

  That was damned near a seal of approval from Gram. “I have to get over to Matilda’s show, but I wanted to stop by and see what all the screaming and fights produced this year.”

  Gram patted my cheek and grinned. “Such a smart mouth on you.”

  It was true. I’d learned it from the best.

  Matilda was officially a blue-ribbon bunny. She’d posed like a pro, and Paxton had handled her with all the skill and grace of someone with his experience. He lifted her over his head and planted soft kisses on her nose, like that day I’d wandered into his backyard and changed everything between us. The Bees left the fair to have dinner. Their quilt would be judged tomorrow, but I had no doubt they’d win. Gigi packed up Matilda and took her home.

  I wrapped an arm around Paxton’s waist. “How does it feel to be a blue-ribbon owner?”

  “Pretty damn amazing.” He grinned at me. “Do you want to hang around here some more, or do you want to get out of here?”

  “Let’s go.”

  Midnight and Elise had left right after the rabbit show, with Elise still wearing her balloon pirate hat. We waved to Strawberry and Brady, who was carrying around a giant stuffed banana, and a few other people we knew from town. I wanted to come back later for the fireworks show, but that wouldn’t be for hours.

  I drove us back to town, parked beside the lake, and took a blanket out of my trunk. The park was closed, the lake and playground empty. Everyone in town was either at the fair or taking a break from the fair before they went back for the fireworks. Within minutes, Paxton had broken into the shed, and we were out on the water with another boat. This time while Paxton rowed, I let myself enjoy the view.

  Once he got to the center of the lake, he rested the oars in their metal holders. “Tell me something I don’t know about you, Macy Mae.”

  “That night when we first hung out alone, I wanted to kiss you. And I almost did.” I linked our fingers. “That’s why I flung myself into the water.”

  Amusement sparked in his hazel eyes. “I said tell me something I don’t know.”

  I shoved him, and the whole boat rocked.

  “Careful,” he said. “You know how easy it is to go overboard in one of these.”

  “All right. You want something you don’t know?” I leaned in closer, and whispered in his ear about that night when the house was quiet and I imagined his lips were my fingers.

  “That.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “That’s definitely something I didn’t know. Feel free to tell me about those things more often.”

  “I think you should tell me something I don’t know about you,” I said. “Why am I always the one revealing my secrets out here?”

  “Mine aren’t as fun as yours.” He took my hands, his expression going serious. “I want to learn how to drive, and I want you to be the one to teach me.”

  My breathing stilled. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “It’s time. I can’t keep relying on Gigi, and if I ever want to leave this town one day, it’s a thing I’ll need to know how to do.”

  “You want to leave Honeyfield too?” I’d always thought of Paxton as a permanent fixture in town, or maybe I hadn’t considered that he’d ever leave because of the driving thing. The old fear of being stuck here lessened even more.

  “I’ve been talking to Elise about maybe going in for half of the shop she wants to open in Chicago, and we can’t make anything of ourselves if we stay here. Teaching me won’t be easy.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ll be a terrible student, and I might freak out a few times, but I’m not comfortable dealing with that in front of anyone else but you.”

  I cupped his face and kissed him. “I’d be happy to teach you.”

  He rowed us to the other side of the lake, to a grassy bank surrounded by raspberry bushes. I spread out the blanket I’d brought and I laid my head in the crook of his arm while we watched Say Anything on his phone. His favorite movie and my favorite movie had unintentionally, or maybe intentionally, become our movie.

  As the credits rolled, I sat up. “I want you to film me.”

  His eyebrows practically touched his hairline.

  “Not like that.” I laughed. “I mean, I want to make one last YouTube video. A goodbye to my Misty Morning persona. It’ll be the only video left on my channel.”

  I wouldn’t be starting a new channel to continue the reviews. Jessica Banks had taken YouTube from me. Even if I eventually forgave her for everything else, that was one thing I would never forgive. Paxton took my phone and I showed him where to hold the camera. As soon as he gave me the thumbs-up, I let everything go.

  “Hi, all, my name is Macy, but you might also know me as Fly Ball Girl or Misty. I have a final video, a little different from my previous content. This one is for me.”

  I told the camera everything about what I’d gone through in the past few weeks. What it had been like to have my every move documented without my consent, what it did to my mental health to scroll through Twitter in the middle of the night, how being trampled on and slut-shamed by strangers made me feel. I didn’t reveal what Eric and I had done to play into that, since I intended to stay true to my word and not expose either of us to further harm, but I couldn’t go completely dark without having my say. It was one thing if Jessica learned her lesson, but regular people just trying to live got captioned or tweeted or turned into memes every day without anyone thinking about the consequences. If I could convince even one person with a phone to think twice before turning their camera on a stranger, it would be worth it.

  When I finished talking, I took my phone back and uploaded the video to YouTube, then deleted the app. Tomorrow, I’d start a new Instagram account. A private one, where only people I allowed could follow me and view my pictures. I’d still post movie reviews for my friends. I wouldn’t let Jessica take everything I loved.

  Paxton gathered the blanket, and as we rowed back across the lake, he asked me, “What are you going to do, now that you’re done with YouTube?”

  I tilted my head and let the last rays of the sinking sun warm my face. “Anything.”

  The idea of opening my own store had started to take root in me. Not right away. First I’d get a job at a media store, work my way up, and learn all the ropes of how to run that kind of a business. Then I’d strike out on my own. I didn’t need to check YouTube to see how many views I’d gotten. I didn’t need to depend on the approval of a fickle audience. I already had everything I wanted in the present.

  The future would be completely up to me.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’M SO THANKFUL FOR my readers, and I hope you enjoyed spending a little time with Macy.

  To my agent, Rebecca Podos, I’m eternally grateful for your wisdom and guidance over the years. You truly epitomize that agent meme with the drowning kid holding the rope, until the adult comes along and shows them that they can stand.

  To my editor, Ashley Hearn, working with you has been a dream come true. Your incredible insight into Macy and the people she loves and the world she lives in has been invaluable. Thank you for helping me dig deeper into the heart of this story.

  To my copy editor, Kaitlin Severini, I so appreciate how you never fail to catch my slip-ups, and do so with humor and fun.

  Huge thank you to my publicists Lizzy Mason (I’m so glad we got to ha
ng out!) and Lauren Cepero, editorial intern Hanna Mathews, editorial assistants Tamara Grasty and Franny Donington, managing editor Hayley Gundlach, production manager Meg Palmer, editorial director Marissa Giambelluca, designer Kylie Alexander for once again knocking it out of the park with a cover I love beyond words, publisher Will Kiester, and the wonderful sales team at Macmillan.

  Jen Hawkins, my literary soulmate, my ambassador to the TPF, I love you. I’m so grateful you’re in my life, my writing wouldn’t be the same without you.

  Kellye Garrett and Roselle Lim, we’re still dancing.

  Coven: Kelsey Rodkey, Annette Christie, Andrea Contos, Auriane Desombre, Rachel Lynn Solomon, Susan Lee, I don’t know where I’d be without all of you. Endless hugs and gratitude for your friendship, laughs, and giving me a reason to keep Twitter on my phone.

  Jenny Howe, Diana Urban, Laurie Dennison thank you so much for your incredible feedback and kind words. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.

  To my husband and my girls, every day with you is an adventure.

  About the Author

  SONIA HARTL IS THE author of Have a Little Faith in Me (Page Street), which received a starred review in BookPage and earned nominations for the Georgia Peach Book Award, YALSA’s Quick Picks for Reluctant Readers, and ALA’s Rise: A Feminist Book Project List. When she’s not writing or reading, she’s enjoying pub trivia, marathoning Disney movies, or taking a walk outside in the fall. She’s a member of SCBWI and the Managing Director for Pitch Wars 2020. She lives in Grand Rapids with her husband and two daughters. Follow her on Twitter @SoniaHartl1.

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